Passaic City record., 1891-07-25
ON THE TRAIN.
BY EMMA A. oPPER.

BY EMMA A. OPPER.
1t was going to be dull railroad jour-
ney, that was certain. Dizziness per-
meated the dusty and cindery atmos-
phere.
Kitty Brooks had book, but she did
not feel like reading. She might have
looked out, but the telegraph poles dis
turbed her, and not much was to be seen
at any rate.
Three men were asleep. A woman
across the aisle was eating out of lunch
basket something of distinctly oniony
odor-onions or garlic. 1t had afflicted
Kitty from the first, and now she felt
that fresh air was absolutely necessary.
The cinders could not be much worse
than they already were. She relinquished
book and purse and umbrella and tried
to raise the window.
1t stuck, of course. And equally of
course man rose up from the seat be-
hind her, touched his hat, and said :
"Allow mel" in polite accents.
Had Kitty been more travelled, less
unsophisticated, she would have been
able to forecast that occurrence with
reasonable certainty.
As it was, she raised startled eyes and
made stammering reply. What she saw
was a young fellow of attractive ex-
terror, if not precisely handsome, bend
ing forward with courteous spile.
What the young man saw was one of
the sweetest faces imaginable, blue-eyed
and tender-mouthed, under hat not
quite of the newest style; a slender,
girlish form, clad in dress which was
not exactly "the thing" and a look of
tremulous uncertainty.
"I'll put it up" he said, hastily, and
rather stiffiy.
What in the name of sense was the
girl afraid off,
He showed it up with strong push
and sat down.
But now that he had seen her face-
such an astonishingly charming face!-
the back view of her faxen head and un-
worldly little hat was simply tantaliz-
ing.
He kept an admiring, fascinated gaze
upon them. And when she turned, the
next moment, timid flush rising in her
cheek, George Floyd's heart actually
beat faster.
81 didn't mean to be so impolite as not
to say thank you," Kitty said, bravely
as she could. "Thank youp
''You are more than welcome" he an
swered. But the response sounded
jerky-or he persuaded himself that it
did. 81 fancy" he said, smiling, 'that
you were getting tired of the picked
onions of our hungry neighbor2"
"Was it picked onionsa" Kitty
smiled, too. "Yes; / couldn't stand it. :"
''Most of us seem obhvious, though"
he said, glancing around. ~ think you
and are the only wide awake people in
the car"
ssYes. / am sure one of those men will
lose his hat off in the aisle if he doesn't
wake up" said Kitty.
But in the words were an effort-he
knew that. She looked shy, shrinking.
The ancient simile of wild-rose oc-
CURED to George Floyd's intent mind.
To nobody could the phrase have been
more fitly applied. Her sweetly pretty
face was flower like, and she bore the
marks of a half-rusticity, which added
ten-fold to her charm.
1t vexed and distressed him that she
should seem to distrust him; as though
he would be guilty of breath of disre-
specific, and to her!
"Warm weather isn't conducive to en-
thusiasm among railroad travellers. And
possibly 1 shouldn't say it-but the
scenery along this road clear to Wynds
ham, where my experience of it ends, is.
worse than ordinary; it's bad. You ge::
tired of brickyards and spindling
woods"
He spoke in studiously matter-of.
fact way, hardly looking at her even.
She should be made to see that he was
a gentleman, at least-little wood-pigeon
that she was.
s Kitty gave him her first full look.
'sWyndhami" she said.
seYas. l live there" said George
Floyd, an odd little hope stirring with
in him. ''You- are you"
II am going to Wyndham," said
Kitty.
Taen she turned pink again and
dropped her eyes, aud was silent.
The train ratified on with an exasper-
ating chug-chug. And George Floyd,
amused end exasperated, almost ground
his teeth.
ssl am glad you are going to Wynd-
ham, he said, quietly. 81 think you'll
like it. / live there. But | don't see
why--I don't, traiy--@hy that or any
thing else should make you feel afraid
Of me2''