The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1892-04-16

though, from the dalrymaldS talk, they
are common enough to the faithful
lover. Little of that for me-" he sighed
grimly, but what superstition shall fit
to them.
across the stile with violets white,
Your love shall pass that way ere night
I'll pave the way for some loyal swain
Here goes.
He smiled dreamily, the poets reverie
in his fine eyes, as he bound the two
pretty flowers with a thread of grass
and caught the brittle stems against a
splinter in the slanting rail. Then,
more serious, as some duty of labor was
suggested to his mind by observing the
Workmen idling about a haymow, he
crossed the field.
Half way thither, turning he saw Ruth
Elliott passing the spot he had just left,
a book in her hand, her steps directed
/ toward the grove.
A faint glow came into his cheeks.
Perhal he thought of the violets, and
the superstition his ready mind had as
ISOLATED with them. At all events, he
thought of the pretty, wild-rose face,
and the trim, dainty form, for his eyes
grew somber, and he directed the men
at their work in preoccupied, mechan
zeal way.
Some fascination of destiny came into
his cherries life as, at liberty again, he
wendell his way toward the grove where
Ruth had disappeared.
His heart gave quicker bound as he
caught sight of her pretty blue dress
through the shrubbery.
Then a frown darkened his brow, bit
ter and distrustful, as he observed that
she had Il COMPANION
That idier, Ralph Prescott" he muir
INJURED. What does Mr.. Elliott keep
that man about here for?"
An unwelcome companion was the
favorite of old Godfrey Forsythe just
then to the dainty Ruth, however. Paul
Dalton knew that moment later.
For, as he was about to retrace his
steps, futtering, indignant cutlery
reached his ears.
How dare you, sir"
Ruth's mellow tones, robbed of their
usual gentleness, spoke. The reply
grated harshly.
Dare? That's good, Ruth! Give me
the books, l say! | saw; | was watch
ing. You've got them between the
leave. You won't take keepsake from
me. | amt handsome enough for that,
but some other fellow will have
them"
You cowardIy spy" gasped pretty
Ruth. "Oh, | hate you! l hate you!
Help! You shall not have the book"
Il will"
In half a dozen sturdy strides, Paul
Dalton reached the spot where the alter
cation was going on.
An exciting scene greeted his vision.
The great rough Ralph had just torn a
book from Ruth's hands and she was
striving TO recover it.
Give it to mel she cried, her eyes
flashing, her face atiame. "Oh, if |
We're only mani"
Miss Ruth, here is your book"
Quick as a flash, Paul Dalton had acted
How it was ever done the confused Ruth
could not tell, but the next moment his
athletic form had sprung through the
shrubbery, the book was snatched from
the astounded Ralph Prescott's hands,
was rendered to its owner, and Ralph
himself lay PROSTATE, ten feet away,
seeing stars.
With a growl Of rage and muttered
threats he limped out of reach of his in
dignant adversary moment later.
What was it," querried Paul, solicit
ously; you will pardon me, but that
=
Trembling all over Ruth Elliott con
fusedly turned over the leaves of the
book.
II had something; it is lost" and
then she burst into inexplicable woman
ly tears.
Was it something of value?" asked
Paul, gently. Perhaps can help you
find it.
NO, | have found it.
Paul Dalton started as from shock
A tell-tale blush on her face, hastily,
guiltily. pretty Ruth Elliott had picked
up at her feet the object missing from
her book, the cause of all the exciting
episode of the moment.
Two white violets bound with thread
of grass.
Comprehendingly, quiyering with
nameless emotion, Paul Dalton recog-
nized them, and as she, shame-faced,
tiuttering, dropped the flowers again, he
regained them and rendered them to her
with earnest, searching, hopeful glance.
Their hands touched as she took them
and she trembled!
Their eyes met as he realized that
they We're precious to her-and he
thrilled,