The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1893-02-08

you spring from""
From that roali!"
This Information somewhat startled
Scott as he looked at the huge boyldsr
at least twenty feet high
"Oh, not from the top, Scott" she
said, with laugh. Then added: dot
has just gone up to the hotel--Oh,
Scott, let me whisper something to
yen
SCOTS cars were made happy ry iust
six little words that rushed I'D into his
brain like some strange, Intoxicating
melody:
dot is dying for you, Scott"
"llow do you know, Chiclliew hug
ging her close in his gladness.
Can't l see? But you mustn't let her
know you're hcre-not all ut once
Dots SO weall'
us she, indeed? l am very sorry
Al ask my sister to come with me
when You have told hcr-she'u like
Dot"
Then the child began plotting TO get
them togcthcr-for Barbara, young as
she was, felt that Dot would never vol
UNFAIRLY see Scott again.
That afternoon when all the world ut
the hotel was taking its siesta, Dot and
barbara lay talking. the latter rafting
on and keeping wonderfully away from
the subject at heart, the former reply
ing ut intervals and not hearing the
clattcr at all.
Suddenly barbara sprang up from
Dots side, seized her pen and paper,
and scratch, scratch, scratch filed the
room for fully ten minutes.
"Oh, Dot, get up, please; l can't copy
this at all-won't you just write the
name of this song for mc?"
Poor Dot wrote neatly and prcttily
in her fine, Italian hand in the center
OF crcam-tintcd sheet of note paper
these words:
Come to me, darling, or die!"
What sentimental song" said I'M
suspecting Dot.
Yes, it ISL
barbara clutchcd the paper and lay
down by Dot until she was sure her
sister was lost in slumbcr; then the
small oppossum was up and off like a
flash to Scott
And he? lie took the written words
as condemned man might take n mes
sage straight from Hcaven-he kissed
barbara and the letter by turn, and the
tears of JOY he could not restrain fell
indiscriminatcly upon the note and the
yellow bangs.
DOT IS asleep now. You wait until
just before supper, and I'll sec that Dot
Is ready for you-and you promise
never to go OF again or slam the
door"
That evening the sunset was glori-
Gus; like jewels from the orient hcaped
in golden platter, the little cloudlcts
blushed and famed, yellow and Grim
son, and ruby red.
Dot, dressed like the wrath of some
fashionable Undine, came out upon the
balcony to enjoy it all-that is, to en-
JOY it as well as she could without her
lost debrandt. She looked until
her eyes could no longer bear the
splcndor, then turned her gaze away.
Suddenly she deserted a figure that
seemed strangely, sweetly familiar, de-
spite the blur the sun had made before
her eyes. The figure came nearer. the
mists cleared from before her longing
eyes, and Dot could not tell for one in
toXicating instant whether or not she
was in Heaven when she saw Scott.
radiant faced, smiling up into her very
eyes.
lie stood beneath her balcony ut last.
Groups of people were standing by,
and Tor this reason he did not follow
the impulse that made him wish to
shout aloud his great love for her and
his joy at seeing her again. When she
could no longer gaze, like n veritable
Juliet, down into his very eyes, and
read the unuttcrable tenderness that
filed their depths, when her Romeo
vanished from her sight and disap-
pearcd within the door, she dragged
herself back into her room and fell in
a white heap on the floor.
When consciousness came back she
lay limp and passive in SCOTS strong
arms, heard Barbara's triumphant CRY:
"Oh, Dot! Oh, Scott! Aren't YOU
happy now?"
Papa was standing over her, with
his handkerchief suspiciously near his
eyes, although he kept blowing his
nose with great zeal.
"And my note never reached you, nv
poor, broken lily?"
Never, Scottn'
And for the first time Barbara had
an inkling of the mischief she had I'M
Willingly done, but she was very quiet
about 1T and only confessed after many
months.
And the roses rushed back pell-mell
into Dots checks, the sea grew green
err and lovelier, the sand was shining
gold, and clouds were roly-poly cupids
chasing each other over the wide fields
of azure, and Scott was her own for
evermore. -Waverly Magazine.
Judge WaXen's Proverbs.
Polliticks is the same all the wear