Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1892-02-13
IA QUAKER LADY.
A STORY OF TO-DAY.
CHAPTER I.

1'a &1F' ~
suit, six afternoon toilets, two for even
ing, and a travelling costume. all new.
Surely 10 young lady needs a more am
pie wardrobe for n four weeks ~sojourn
in the mountains! / do not think Cousin
Charles and his wife will have occasion
to feel ashamed of their Quaker village
maids habiliments, whatever they may
be Of her personal appearance"
The girl carefully tucked in the white
towel that covered the upper tray, and
gave il an approving pat as she ended
her little solilOquy.
School was out, and it was the begin
ming of holiday time. To a WORKOUT
weary girl. who has for the scholastic
year faithfully taught, or essayed TO teach
the dull. stupid. coarse ideas of fifty pub
lic-school boys how to shoot, holiday
time means a great deal. The sudden
change from q glare of hot sunlight on
binding blackboard. to cool shade and
green fields; from the foul odors of the
sewers, mingled with frowzy, perspiring
heads and damp sponge, to sweet new
mown hay and pond-lilies, ard that
sweet, indetinable aroma which accom-
panies the ffou frou Of delicate silks and
dainty laces. which the Italians can
'L'odor femmininO," all these were
meant by holiday time, this summer, to
Phebe Flower.
BY invitation of her cousins, DIR. and
Mrs. Charles Murry, she was going to
spend her vacation up in the mountains
with them. OF Ms. Charles she knew
very little, as the lady had but recently
become a cousin by marriage; but she had
met her when the bridal pair passed
through the city on their wedding jour
ney, and, Notwithstanding Miss Flower
had been prepared to be somewhat awed
by cousin Charles rich and elegant
young wife" she really found her to be a
very warm-hearted, simple, loving little
woman The we had taken to one an
other, TO his ''entire and surprised salts
faction" as Cousin Charles himself de-
lightedly expressed it; and therefore, af-
ter a further acquaintance, by letter al
together, however, Miss Flower had de-
cided TO accept her cousins kind invita-
ton to spend her holiday with them at
La Mer, up in the mountains.
She was going as DIR. Murry's cousin,
Miss Flower" too; her title Of school
snarm" To be forgotten for the nonce.
She quite reveled in the thought that, for
a month at least, she should be done with
all association with maps" and gram
mar" and grades" and averages
everything educational" in fact. Not
by that should il he inferred, however,
that Miss Flower disliked her profession;
for a more enthusiastic, conscientious,
and dutiful soldier in the ranks could not
be found; she was simply tired and worn
out from the tread-mill drag Of the pub
lic-scAool system. and longed for her re-
cess, a period of the relaxation Of private
life.
Miss Flower was quite alone in the
world; save her cousin, DIR. Charles Muir
~, she could not count another relative.
Hosts of friends she had, 10 be sure, and
n pleasant, happy home with two Of
them: but since the death of her mother,
now some five years past, her lot had been
a lonely one. 1t was for this reason,
therefore. that her profession was really
more To her than it is TO most girls in her
position. She devoted her whole heart
and life TO il: the boys were her boys, for
there is something material in every true
woman's breast, and if she have not her
own, she will mother" some n else's
children. Putting so much of her best
into her pr~ofession-and there is M surer
way to success-Miss Flower, although
one of the younger, was one of the most
desirable and honored of the teachers in
her district.
One couldn't quite say that Phebe
Flower wa pretty, although her boys
declared she was "a stunnin' beauty
when they met her ON the street in her
Sunday attire, and she bowed and smiled
sweetly upon them. IL was well worth
seeing, the Difference and eagerness,
mingled with awkwardness, with which
some of the older and rougher boys WED
with one another in doffing their tattered
hats and caps politely when she smiled
and bowed. She had Just turned that
first sharp corner in a girls life when the
hateful sobriquet ''old maid can be APP
plied-and cannot be denied; but one
would never think of giving that name
to Miss Flower, for she had neither the
appearance nor an usually associ.
ated with that order of unmarried girls.
She was neither tall, angular, nor hard.
featured; on the contrary, she was petite,
plump, and pleasing, fair, with dark,
earnest gray eyes, and a wealth of wavy
golden hair, which she wore massed in
the approved fashion of the day. Her
manner was charmingly artless and ma.
tural, albeit a trife dignifed, sometimes
ever severe, toward those of whose &C.
tions she might disapproye. There was
considerable of the old Quaker blood still
pulsating in her veins, in spite of a cen.
tury's a~dulteration, and some of the old
friends at Quarterly" when they passed
her after meeting, would stop and say,
MY! child, how thee favors thy grand.
mother
As the stage ratified up the hilly road
leading TO the hotel. the evening of her
arrival, and Miss Flower saw the long
piazza filled with a fashionably attired
crowd of guests awaiting its approach,
the femininely nervous, and very pardon.
ably natural, thought of her own appear
ance rose to her mind, and there was a
certain satisfaction in the knowledge
that her travelling costume was new and
pretty, her hat becoming, and her hair
of natures own wave and curl, not
friIhtfully ''out.' Whatever they
thought of her personal appearance, her
cousins welcome of herself was warm
and hearty; and Phebe soon found her
self surrounded by a host of their friends,
all eager and happy to make the &C
q~uaintance of DIR. Murry's cousin, Miss
Flower"
La Mer was a lovely spot. High up,
hundreds of feet above tide-water, the
sparkling lake lay in a green-rimmed
| basin of low hills, and upon the highest
of these hills was situated the Hotel. A
green lawn with su~mmer-houses and q
| grove of trees lay in front, and paths led
down to the waters edge, where boats
might be secured for a row or fishing, al
any hour, upon the lake.
Although many miles distant from any
city, town, or village, the hotel was
neither dull nor quiet. 1t seemed to have
climbed and become rs one Of the noun
tains, and said to the cities far distant,
.You shall be Mohammedans, and come
| Ia me- and SO from every direction the
wealth and fashion of the great cities ly-
ing beyond sent their representatives, and
for q few months in the year the peaceful
country quiet of the sequestered hills and
dales rang with the echoes Of the cities
"maudlng crowd n Hotel was q lit
tie world in itself, where not even the
most fastidious man about town need
sigh for his accustomed amusements; for
there were to be found his three big
Bs"-Billiards, Bowling, and the Rar--
and besides, the music was unsurpassed,
and dancing in the brilliantly lighted
prlors every night gave the place any
thing but a dreary aspect.
Miss Flower looked in ut the CAV dam