Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1891-06-18

told to make himself agreeable to a pretty
girl. There, go now, do! Have you brought
your own racket with your
I left it at home" says Mr.. Ryde. Fact
is" affectedly, Il didn't think tennis was
known over here. Didn't fancy you had
court in the land"
This speech fires the blood of the O'Tooles'
last descendant.
Madame O'Connor uprears a naughty
crest, and fixes the luckless lieutenant with
an eagle eye, beneath which he quails.
''There is no doubt we lack much" she
says, taking his measure with lofty scorn;
''but we have at least our manners.
With this she turns her back upon him,
| commences a most affable discussion with
Miss Penelope, leaving her victim speech
| less with fright.
Have a brandy-and-soda, Ryder says
Mr.. Kelly, who is always everywhere, re-
garding the wretched marine through his
| eye-glass with a gaze OF inetfaole sadness.
Nothing like it. after an engagement Of
this sort"
81 thought Ireland was the land for
| Jokes" says the injured Ryde, Indignantly,
-"stock-in-trade sort of thing over here;
and yet when / give 'em one of mine they
| turn upon me as if was the worst in the
world. 1 don't believe any one understands
= EN- over mere.
| You see, your jokes are too fine for u.s."
says Mr.. Kelly, mournfully. I'VE miss the
point of them"
| You are all the most uncomfortable peo-
| pie l ever met" says the wrathful marine.
1--WE are, we are" acquiesces Kelly. I'VE
| are really a very stupid people. Anything
| delicate or refined is lost upon us, or is met
in an unfriendly spirit. give you my word,
| have known fellows head smashed for
!, less than half what you said to Madame
O'ConnOI just now. Prejudice runs high in
this land. You have, perhaps" in friend
| ly tone, heard of shillalah?'
mo, haven't" sulkily.
mo? really? It is quite an institution
here. It's sort of big stick, a very I'M
pleasant stick, and is used freely upon the
smallest difference of opinion. You'll meet
them round every corner when you get more
! used to us; you'd like to see them, wouldn't
you?"
mo, shouldn't" still more sulkily.
''Oh, but you ought, you know. If you are
going to live for any time in country, you
should study its Institutions The best way
to see this one is to make cutting remarks
about Ireland in a loud voice when two or
three of the peasants are near you. They
don't like cutting remarks, they are so stupid,
Iy. Still, you mustn't mind that; you must
smother your natural kindness of DISPOSE
ton and annoy them, if you want to see the
| shillalah.''
81 said nothing to annoy Mrs. OConnor,
at any rate" says Mr.. Ryde. ''She needn't
have taken simple word or two like that"
You see, we are all so terribly thin-Skin-
ned" says Mr.. Kelly regretfully, Il quite
blush for my country-people. Of course
there are noble exceptions to every rule. I
am the noble exception here. don't feel
in the least annoyed with you. Now do try
some brandy, my dear fellow; it will do you
all the good in the world"
Il don't know this moment whether you
are laughing at me or not" says the marine,
eying him dOubtfully.
81 never laugh" says Mr.. Kelly reproach-
fully. Il thought eUen you could see that.
| Well, will you have that B. and S.?'
But Mars is huffed, and declines to accept
consolation in any shape. He strolls away
with an injured air to where his brother
| officer, Captain Cobbett is standing near the
hall door, and pours his griefs, into his ears.
| Captain Cobbett being very spare little
man with half-starved appearance and a
dismal expression, it is doubtful whether
| poor Ryde receives from him the amount Of
| sympathy required.
MAY [ see you to your carriage, Miss
! Blake?" says Desmond, finding she and Mss
! Penelope are bent On going; and Aunt Prls-
! ella, who has taken quite fancy to this
strange young man, gives her gracious per-
mission that he shall accompany them to the
| fOSsiZied chariot awaiting them.
| 'Who is he, my dear Priscilla?" asks Miss
Penelope, in stage whisper, as they go.
Don't know, my dear, but a vastly agree
able man, very superior to those of his own
! age of the present day. He is marvelOuSy
| polite and has, I think, quite superior
| air."
Quite" says Penelope, and a very sweet
| expression besides, so open, SO ingenious.
| wish all were like him." This with sigh,
Terence having proved himself open to sus-
picion with regard to plain dealing the past
few days.
Now, it so happens that at this instant
they turn corner leading from the shrub
! berry walk on the gravel sweep before the
hall door; as they turn this corner, so does
some one elSe only he is coming from the
! gravel sweep to the walk, so that cOnse-
| quently he is face to face with the Misses
! Blake, without hope of retreat.
The walk is narrow at the entrance to it,
and as this newcomer essays to pass hur-
riedly by Miss Priscilla he finds himself
| fatally entangled with her, she having gone
| to the right as he went to the left, and after
ward having gone to the left as he went to
the right, and so on.
Finally a passage is cleared, and the
stranger-who is an amazingly ugly old
man, with a rather benign though chOleric
countenance-speeds past the Misses Blake
like flash of lightning, and with a haste
! creditable to his years, but suggestive rather
Of fear than elasticity.
My unclep' says Brian Desmond, in an
awe-struck tone, to Monica, who literally
goes down before this terrible annunciation,
and trembles viSibly.
1t is a re-encOunter fraught with mortal
horror to the Misses Blake. For years they
have not so much as looked upon theic
enemy's face, and now their skirts have
actually brushed him as he passed.
Come, come quickly, Monica" says Miss
Penelope, on this occasion being the one to
take the initiative. do not linger, child.
| Did you not see? 1t was our enemy that
passed by"
If she had said ''it was the arch-fend,"
| her voice could not have been more tragic
i am coming, Aunt Penny" says Mont
ca, nervOusly.
Now it is at this inauspicious moment that
Mr.. Kelly (who, as L have said before, is al
| ways everywhere chooses to rush up to
| Brian Desmond and address him in loud
| tone.
My dear boy, you are not going yet, are
you?' he says, reproachfully. 81 say, Des-
mond, you can't, you know, because Miss
Fitzgerald says you promised to play in the
next match with her"
The fatal name has been uttered clearly
and distinctly. As though petrified, the two
old ladies stand quite still and stare as
IL H. L, -4a4 rfx