The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1893-09-20


Istness fashion as she sat on THE Tav-
ern" porch. The glory Of an early June
day was about her. Cedar. sugar pine
and dOgwood cleaned fresh in their diff
ferent shades of green from the shower
of the day before. Shasta lilies, wild
roses. yellow violets and myriads of
other flowers. clustering in close brother
hood with the timothy grass in the
meadow beyond, filled the air with pen
etrating fragrance. The meadow-lark
trilIed in the tall pines and a small boy
reported the finding of a flock Of young
grouse in the cornfield. The trout were
beginning to jump in the Sacramento
and the early anglers were gathered IN
small groups little distance from her
discussing with deep intentness the re-
spective merits of brown hackel versus
royal coachman-
Mary Fenton loathed the tone Of the
place. 1t reeked of fish; fish that had
been caught or hooked and fish to be
landed. The atmosphere was monoto-
nously fishy. 1t generally is on the Sac
ramento. where the trout are wary and
men are loyal to flies.
A case of nervous prostration was the
ostensibIe cause of Miss Fenton's re-
moval to the bracing mountain air; II
the family GaIen had but known it she
was more truly suffering from severe
attack Of INDIGESTION of mind. Richard
Drake was the subject of this wavering.
whereby her cheeks were paled and her
nights made sleepless.
The hum of the refrain. when 1 was
on the McCIoud in 70, Dolly Warden
weighing ten pounds" sounded to her
ear like gibberish, as she laid her book
down in her lap and fell to thinking
and arguing with herself, the same old
story. Mary Fenton had not been OF the
toilers Of this life, nor did she aspire to
that honor She had been bred in a
selfsh sort Of way, with the deepest re-
gard for the great ego. Happiness
meant 10 her smooth sailing; ripple on
the stream. unpleasantness and un-
observation-disclosures
In her trim tailor-made gown she
formed a natty picture as she rocked
slowly to and fro in low chair, under
the shadow of the hop vines that clam
bered I'D the pillars of the piazza. Even
the fishermen gave her a little Of their
admiration. together with the speckled
beauties-and the fishermen were not
young. The pucker Of thought on her
brow was rather becoming. In her I'M
conscious pose she presented picture
of the best notwithstanding cultiva-
ton.
The world was very serene to her
when Richard Drake drifted into her
life She liked him. He was well intro
duced, belonged to the brakes Of Bos-
ton, was handsome, triie unconVen-
tional which she rather censured, and
lastly. was bank clerk with no fortune
and cared little for amassing one, a lack
of ambition that she could not quite
comprehend
At first he startled her in her quiet,
measured existence. then amused, then
interested. and finally was the cause Of
the nervous prostration and mountain
trip out Of the season.
The Fentons had only fair supply Of
this worlds goods. Young sisters were
growing up. and with marriage Mary
knew that she had her own way TO
make Richard Drake grew more fas-
cfnatinE but she could not yet decide
whether life was worth living with pow
erty constantly in the foreground:
whether things she priced dearest could
be given up for one mans sake. This
was the problem that troubled her as
she sat in deep reflection until she heard
some one address her timidly:
Would you like some flowers,
ma'an? o.
young girl, with hands extended full
of the wonderful pitcher plant that
grows in abundance up the slope Of
Castle Crags-
Where did you get them?"
Bout five miles from here"
did you 90 yourself?"
Miss Fenton looked curiousIy at the
young girl who flushed slightly as she
replied:
"'Course. I thought may be you
ladies at the hotel might like to buy
Iome, as the walks too rough for you
IT will take them" she said.
The girl was a picturesque figure, tall
and slender, with a crop Of short, red
dish curls clustering around her head
and traggling over the brim of an old
cigarette hat. which was faded into a
dull blush gray, and set well back on
her head, leaving the sun a good
chance TO tings her face with the rich
brown color Of health.
She wore an old navy-blue blouse
with collar turned low at the throat.
showing a superb curve. Her short
calico skirt was drenched from scTarn-
bling through underbrush, and chung
close to her figure. Her old canvas
shoes were a trifie large for her, and
seemed relics together with the hat.
Mary Fenton's face lighted up with
new interest as she looked at the 1.-THE,
well-poised young figure.
why, you've been ten miles this
morning, and II is so wet, and they say
there are rattlesnakes on Castle Crags.''
The girl laughed. "RattlesnakesP' she
exclaimed scornfully Her large gray
eyes looked at the speaker in indignant
protest. You don't suppose I'm such
O baby TO be skeered of a RATHER. I've
killed many OF 'em round our cabin
door in Oregon I've got twelve ratties
aid a button down at the camp III
fetch up to show you, II you like, some
day"
The fresh voice and honest soul look
ing out from her great earnest eyes
fascinated Mary Fenton, as she drew
out her purse to pay for the orchids,
and she tried to keep her for a while.
Enthusiasm was not good form in Miss
Fenton's world. but IL might be per-
Inftted to another class, and the noun
tains, rivers. and fishermen were so full
OF ennui TO her just then.
What is your manner" she asked.
''Kit-Kit JONES'" she replied, moving
away.
do you live I'm the camp across the
road, with the campers who came last
week?' Miss Fenton asked with interest
yes" she answered in a lower tone
pf voice. There's only me, mother and
Bill. / must go now. I'm the head OF
the shebanE Bill is sick" a shade
passed over her merry, childish face.
May / come over and see the rattles
some day, and will you bring me some
Shasta hlies?"
The white kind that smells?" Kit
questioned. "Bill likes them best. Yes
I know the best place for them, up the
ridge"
She started away on a quick little
run. then looked back, shouting: You