Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1892-07-21
ON THE SNAGS.

ou tne Hdru country ROAD, ana tnOuBn
she we'll knew whose step 1t was, and her
heart throbbed and her breath came
quicker, she only turned her head nom
chalantly and said fiippantly:
"Oh! 1t is your
Eyes, it is me. You knew it was me.
Are you going to throw me over2" and
the big fellows voice shook and his fair
face flushed with pain.
"Throw you over! Gentlemen never
use slang-to ladies'"
"You know what l mean. Jean, are
you aware that you refused to dance
every dance with me today2"
81 really forget; my memory, you
know
"One moment, If you please, and then
have done. Is it yes or nor
'Hunt, don't be stupid. You know
hate to be remarked on"
"And so do l, and will not again be
subjected to the remarks heard today.
Once more, is it yes or nor"
well, no. then. if you press the
point"
"Be 1t so." And, with a grave bow,
Hunt Ashly turned and was gone.
Pretty Jean Inslow was stunned for o
moment, then swallowed gulp in her
throat as pride battled to the front.
"Let him go. If a man is such fool
that he can't see-pshaw! nobody
cares"
And then, to prove that nobody did
care, she sat down and cried until her
pretty eyes looked like stewed ferreS's
and her pretty little nose had the ap-
pearance of an apoplectic lobster.
"Theres one thing morally certain"
she continued-"of all things in the
wide world there's nothing hate like
men,"
This last remark was made out loud,
and intended for the benefit of the trees
and the wide eyed purple violets: but,
alasl it reached the ears of tall fellow,
with blond hair, who stood just on the
other side of the blossoming hedge.
He gave a slight whistle and COM
pressed his lips little firmer as he
strobe off under the low, dropping trees,
without once looking behind.
"Well, have done it now. I'm glad
he heard me say hated him. Nobody
cares. I'll go to the dance tonight with
Phil, and firt too"
And Jean, with her head very high in
the air, tried to persuade herself that
she really didn't care.
Hunt Ashly went on down the road
through the shaded village street and
stopped at the gate of vine wreathed
cottage. A black eyed, pleasant faced
girl was tying up some Of the vines on
t. ellises.
"Bess," he said, helping her twine up
golden Tipped jasmine, twill you 60 to
the dance with me tonight"
"What? Where's Jean?"
"Quarreled."
"Ah! see. I'm invited for cats paw,
eh?"
mo. 1 asked you because did not
wish to go alone"
"Well, all right, I'll go. The fact is,
I've quarreled with Phil, and-and I'd
rather go with you than not"
Jean and Bess were the two prettiest
girls in the village, and the two best
dancers besides, and that night when
Jean and Phil appeared Bess and Hunt
had just finished the first set.
Each took In the situation at glance.
Bess and Jean called each other hard
names under their breath and hated
each other in small minded, womanly
way intensely. The men stood and eyed
each other fiercely and pulled their
mustaches, and looked as if 1t would
give them the most exquisite pleasure
to annihilate each other.
"Phil," said Jean, "come out on the
piazza with me-"
"The piazza2 Oh, certainly But
where are they going?"
Following us, it seems"
Close as their own shadows Hunt and
Bess stuck to them, and, though there
were great many tender things uttered
on both sides, there was certainly not
very much scope for SO called Irritation.
"Bess," presently called Jean, "are
you going boating tomorrow"
eyes, perhaps"
'Miss Bess is going in my boat. Whose
boat do you grace, Miss Jean? Con
found that gibbering idiotD"
"Oh, Phil's, of course" leaning ten
derly toward him. ("I hate Bess Millerl
His boat, indeedrD
And the next morning the gayly
painted boats rocked over the heart of
the pulsing river as the stalwart arms
Of the oarsmen rowed against the CUR
Cling ripples; then, throwing down their
oars, they lazily drifted back with the
current.
But the two boats Jean and Bess were
in still shot up the stream.
"Hunt let US go back. Well be on
the snags presently"
And Bess' face was ashen pale.
"Call Phil back; he must be mad!"
And Jean, in the other boat, was say
ing:
"Phil, drive on the snags. You don't
care, and don't. Hunt knows the dan
ger. He'll stop In time"
1t was dangerous place, where the
drifted logs from the mountain torrents
lay imbedded in the mud and reared