St. Paul daily globe., 1893-06-21
HIS Sis TER.

l3lu; Out is Ill inc CITY. SptHullS Ills va
cation with his parents. Following IS
the story:
HIS SIS TER.
Jared Townsend's mood depended
largely on the weather.
That afternoon the weather. as is fire.
quent in Cambridge, was dark and sui
len. Townsend had tried to study, but
the light was poor and it was too ab-
surdly early for the lamps. He had cut
the leaves of new book and had
drummed for time on his piano, and
finally had found himself standing with
his back to the splutterlng coal fire
looking. with an expression OF resigned
sadness, at photograh in his hand. 1t
was the likeness of young girl, and Oh
the back Of the card was written In
small, sharp letters. For j. l.. l. from
his devoted sister, Ii. Il. r." He stared
at it il long time, then walked across the
room, tossed it into all empty little
drawer in his desk and returned to the
fire. The mechanical way in which he
did this. and the fact that he dld not
allow his thoughts to dwell on the pho
tograph when he could no longer see 1t,
suggested that the performance was OF
frequent occurrence.
1t was strange, he reflected, that after
more than year of Cambridge these
dreary New England days should have
an effect on him, but they always did
unless he had some amusing to talk to,
which was decidedly not the case how.
That was another bore OF living In
rooms, however nice, in house Oh
Kirkland street, instead OF in one of
congeniality among the men in that
house. What interest. for example,
could he take in the three law men. who
talked of nothing but "rorts" and de
murrers'' and "quasi-cOntracts, or the
eccentric millionaire Oh the second floor,
or the freshman in the other entry,
whom, by the way, he mad never taken
the trouble to call on. This was rather
rude, come to think of it. The fresh
man had been there since college
opened-almosJ two months noW-and
Townsend hardly knew what he looked
like. Why not drop in Oh him today?
In moment this idle thought seemed
like positive inspiration, and without
giving his impulse time TO subside-al-
WayS,dangerouS course for him to follow
-Townsed strobe outsof the room and
went laundering down three flights Of
stairs, through the cellar, and up again
into the other part OF the house.
The card on the door of room number
six read "Mr. Austin Page" Town
send pauesd, before knocking to take
breath and wait for some one inside
vino was playing the violin with remark
ably sweet. sympathetic.tOuch, to. finish.
"Come in." ~
People did not often have time to bid
one enter in the amiable, musical drawl
with which TOwnsend's knock was an
swered. lie hoped that the violin and
the voice might belong to the same man,
and he was not disappointed, for when
he opened the door the freshman
came across the room with his violin in
one hand and said, Ppm very glad to
see you," III the same voice.
Eyes, my name is Page" the fresh
man was saying, land these-these
fragments on the sofa are my cousin,
Mr.. Hammond"
"I've been playing football" said the
patched and bandaged giant indicated,
elevating long arm. "Excuse my left
hand, and please don't ask me what
class Pm in-everyb0dy does-because
I'm not in any,"
IL wouldn't for worlds" answered
Townsend, good-humoredly, wondering
dS ut SllOOh udiluS WHY illo SLOClilR ldu
not struck him as abominably "freSh. J"
Townsend's visit i'll no way reSembled
his preconceiged ideas of what it would
be like. On the several occasions that
he meditated going to see Page, he had
invariably pictured himself finding a
lonely boy surrounded by great deal of
uncomfortably new oak furniture that
smelt of the carpenter shop. Instead of
this he was in room that did not hurt
his feelings as most college studies did.
aud instead OF the anticipated varnish,
he was conscious every now and then of
deliciouSly elusive odor of vlOlets. He
was being entertained in an amiable,
self-assured sort of a way by delicate
looking fellow with clear-cut features
and tired brown eyes.
The clash between the presentiment
and the reality had left Townsend rather
conversationleSS at first, but realizing
suddenly that, after all, he was Sopho-
more, ne talked more than either of the
others.
Suddenly, during pause, after a
long and somewhat persistent discus
sion on football. he broke out in his i'm
pulsive way with:
''Do tell me where those violets are?
I've been getting most heavenly WhiffS
from them ever since sat down, and
don't see them anywhere"
Neither do l." said Page, laughing
and looking puzzled.
Are you sure you don't mean
arnica?" asked Hammond from the
sofa, lifting his arm with considerable
effort.
mo, really" answered Townsend.
getting up and strutting about the room
like dog in granary. Il don't see
how you can help smelling them."
''Oh. / do now," exclaimed Page, who
had also risen and was wandering round
with his nose haughtily in the air. "It's
strongest just here where you are
sittlng."
Say. old man, throw me over my
coat, will you, please" said Hammond,
lmpatiently. Its on the back OF that
chair-the one Mr.. Townsend was in. l
mustn't get cold in this internal arm"
Page took the coat and was about to
spread 1t over Hammond's arm and
shoulder, when he stopped short with
a quick movement of comprehension,
ard raised is slowly to his face:
'Here are the vihlets," he said, press
ing his nose against the lapel, 'or rath-
er,. here it where they were not SO very
/ long ago.
"Whata dead give away" laughed
Townsend, as he leaned over and in
hailed deeply. II feel just Ike the man
| in the play who detects The wicked
countess by the perfume sne uses. Now
! the proper thing for you to do is to tell