Arizona republican., 1892-01-03
NORWEGIAN COURTSHIP.

Tall? Yes, very. She stood head above the average man.
 Slight: No. That is too poetical word to be in any way applied to the heroine of this little tale, whose lean, scrawny figure looked for all the world like a series of badly connected angles, and whose stepping shoulders and mar row chest were clad in a faded black jacket.
 This garment, with its rusty surface and pulled seams, suited well the sad looking woman into whose dreary life came one little bit of color, which shall try to describe.
 Her face corresponded well with the rest of her appearance, for it was faded and worn, and surrounded by fringe of straight, dusty brown hair, pulled tight ly back from the sallow, weary face, whose one redeeming feature was the eyes-dark gray, and oh, so sad!
 She had that expression of wistful waiting sometimes seen in the eyes of a faithful dog who has lost his master, and seems ever to wait, always patiently, and to watch ever expectantly for the beloved face.
 She was Norwegian, named Etta, and lived in our family as cook for near ly a year.
 Weeks passed by and early autumn, which had brought her to us, shed leafy tears, and departed suddenly, leaving us all unprepared for winters advent, which announced itself in a cold, dismal rain.
 Up to this time Etta had never re- ceived a letter or any communication from the outside world. She never left the house, and scorned the idea of an afternoon out. However, on this drizzly day, there was a surprise, great sur prise, for Etta was discovered holding an open letter tightly grasped in one hand. But when she found herself re- garded, it was hastily thrust into a vOluminous pocket in her skirt.
 Now this pocket was marvel in it. self, as it could hold myriads of things. Why, one day saw her produce pill low case, a workbox, scissors and brass thimble at one fell swoop; at another tine-but l am wandering far away from the letter and its consequences.
 The mysterious epistle was seen sev- eral times again, and these glimpses showed it to be worn and rumpled with much reading. No doubt it would have beea read and reread out of existence had not another, fresh and clean, re- placed the first.
 This took from the postman, and so had a chance to see the uneven, char acterisss writing, the Christiania post mark and Norwegian stamp. It was followed week later by another, then another
 became interested, for felt was on the track of real, live romance.
 The pale, tired face seemed to grow brighter i'll those days, and for the first time Etta made frequent trips to the city, returning laden with bundles of every size and description. All her spare time was now employed in sewing. Cali coos and prints were made and laid aside. For some reason or other Etta was replenishrig her clean but scant and somewhat dilapidated wardrobe.
 Another link in the chain! thought l, and began to imagine the arrival of stalwart Norwegian lover left in Nor way two years before, when she had come to try her fortune in America.
 Letters came more frequently, and Etta grew corrcspondingly brighter and cheerier-she even seemed to try to hold herself more erectly, for often tke bent shoulders were suddenly strengthened as she went about her work. Her voice, formerly so tired and hopeless, took on more cheerful tone.
 Not the least remarkable of Etta's peculiarities was her manner of speak ing; slowly and lispingly came the broken English, which was at first so hard to understand. Such sad mix ture of her mother tongue and this new, strange language, such verbal combina- tions and misplaced plurals were never heard before.
 About this time 1 mentioned my TO- mantle notions to my mother, but shs only laughed, being entirely unable to connect Ettas sad appearance with a lover, Norwegian or of any other land. She called me romancer, but l still felt sure l was right.
 Sooner than expected came the chance to vindicate myself, for the next day as l sat idly by the window, watching the passers by, my attention was attracted by queer little figure way down the street, which came or toward the house at a rattling pace, gayly swinging huge cane and puffing vigorously at a man. moth cigar. At a distance it was i'm possible to tell whether he was boy or man, such a comical, little figure he was, dressed in snuff colored suit, with rose in his buttonhole and the tniest derby imaginable tilted over one ear.
 Gazing laughingly at him. l was just telling my mother to look at that absurd little creature, when what was our sur prise to see Etta, the staid. the quiet, dash wildly across the lawn, rush down to the gate, and throwing her arms about the little fellows neck kiss him first on one cheek and then on the other.