Idaho semi-weekly world. [volume] (Idaho City, Idaho Territory) 1875-1908, 1893-09-15
NORWEGIAN COURTSHIP

IKE series OF Dauly connected angles,
and whose STOPPING 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, 80 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 a Norwegian, named Eta,
and lived in our family as cook for near
ly 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 cold, dismal
rain.
Up to this time Eta had never re-
ceived letter or any communication
from the ontside 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 Eta was discovered holding
an open letter tightly grasped in one
hand. But when she found herself re-
garded, it was hastily thrust into a
yoluminous 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
tilne-but l am wandering far away
from the letter and its consequences.
The mysterious epistle was seen sew.
eral times again, and these glimpses
showed it to be worn and rumpled with
much reading. No doubt it would have
been read and reread out of existence
had not another, fresh and clean, re-
placed the first.
This took from the postman, and SC
had chance to see the uneven, char
acterless writing, the Christiania post
mark and Norwegian stamp. 1t was
followed week later by another, then
another.
became interested, for I felt was on
the track of a real, live romance.
r
brighter in those days, and for the first
time Eta 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.
Goes and prints were made and laid
aside. For some reason or other Eta
was replenishing her clean but scant and
somewhat dilapidated wardrobe.
Another link in the chain! thought l,
and began to imagine the arrival of a
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
Eta grew correspondingly brighter and
cheerier-she even seemed to try to hold
herself more erectly, for often the bent
shoulders were suddenly Strengthened as
she went about her work. Her voice,
formerly so tired and hopeless, took on Il
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 sc
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 l mentioned my ro-
mantle notions to my mother, but she
only laughed, being entirely unable to
connect Etta's sad appearance with a
lover, Norwegian or of any other land
She called me romancer, but still fell
sure 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 on toward the house
at rafting pace, gayly swinging huge
cane and putting vigorously at nam.
moth cigar. At distance it was i'm
possible to tell whether he was boy OF
man, such comical, little figure he was,
dressed in a snuff colored suit, with a
rose in his buttonhole and the tiniest
derby imaginable tilted over one ear.
Gazing laughingly at him, was just
telling my mother TO look at that absurd
little creature, when what was our sur
prise to see Eta, the staid, the quiet,
dash wildly across the lawn, rush down
to the gate, and throwing her arms
about the little fellows neck kiss MIN
first ON one cheek and then ON the other.
The man, after a few quiet but ear
nest struggles, managed to free himself
from her long, thin arms, and looked up
into her face, so high above him, with
pleasure surely, but without trace of
loverlike ardor.
On closer inspection it proved to be
such funny, rosy, childish face that it
was impossible to look at it without
laughing. Eta seemed to find it so, for.
smiling happily, she escorted him back
to the house, her long arm linked in his
short one, almost lifting him from the
ground at every step, and presently we
heard the low monotone of their voices
in the kitchen below.