Walker Lake bulletin. (Hawthorne, Nev.) 1883-1926, 1893-12-27
HER LITTLE JOKE.


dow. 1t is drenching day, and there is
nothing to be seen but the garden, with its
heavy headed roses dropping under the
downpour, and the village street beyond,
now fast becoming rapid water course.
81 call this the dullest place in exist
ence," says Miss Jocelyn half aloud, 1.-THE
very dullest."
She does not finish her sentence, but
the reflection of herself-a handsome girl
in a smart frock. After one glance she
turns back to the window with sigh.
whats the use9 One might as well
wear sackcloth trimmed with ashes in this
place for all the people there are to see
ones gowns. 1t was much more fun at
school after all.
"Why'-suddenly craning forward-''if
that isn't that frumpy little Miss Blake
with Mr.. Stanford, and he is holding his
umbrella over her. She has got his arm
too. / wonder how he likes it. Poor man
i wonder if he ever notices whether
woman is old and plain or young and
pretty!
Nov he's gone splash into puddle,
and she is actually looking up at him and
blushing and laughing. Oh, what joke
forty if she's day-quite forty. And
those little curls bobbing about as she
goes!
81 wonder if her sister makes her wear
her hair like that. I wonder if she is in
love with him? Poor old soulr'
Mr.. Sanford is curate, but he is a man
first and afterward cleric. Strong, manly,
gentle, he plays cricket with the village
hoe Co. g.,
with the old CATERS, is q member of the
debating society as well as of the rowing
club.
But Miss Jocelyn is young, and is not
yet able to grasp more than the fact that
she is better looking and better dressed
than most of the girls whom she knows.
So to her Ruth Blake is ridiculous
sight, and Mr.. Stanford's quiet courtesy,
which he would extend just as readily and
pleasantly to his washerwoman, is good
joke"
She watches them part at the Misses
Blakes' little green gate, and thinks she
can see Miss Ruth's upward glance and
smile at the fine face above her before Mr..
Stanford turns and comes striding and
splashing back through the puddles.
Then, having nothing else to do, Miss
Jocelyn plans pretty little piece of mis-
chief, which she promptly sets about carry
ing out. She has one gift, this handsome
Miss Jocelyn; she is very skillful with her
pen, and, after a little practice, can initiate
almost any handwriting.
And now she remembers that there is in
the study letter of Mr.. Stanford's to
her father, and her eyes sparkle with de-
light.
boff ,,, 10 IL ID Ill
a love letter. Perhaps she has never had
one. It will be kindness, positively!
How she will blush and simper-silly old
thingl Well, serves her right When there
are so few young men in a place, what
business have old maids strolling about
with them under umbrellas?"
miss Cornelia's a-lying down, Miss
Ruth. She have one of her bad headaches,
and she says as how no one is to disturb
her. And your tea is ready and waiting,
miss"
Ruth Blake turns into the prim little
dining room, seats herself upon one of the
straight backed chairs and begins to draw
off her brown cotton gloves.
She is an odd little figure, small and
slim, and dressed in hideous, antiuuated
plaid, with shades of glaring blue and
green; yet her fair hair-which the wind
and rain have ruffled and made to look like
a halo about her meek, small face-the pa
tieut curve Of her lips and her slightly
flushed cheeks, render her appearance not
altogether unpleasing.
She eats her simple tea quickly, glancing
from time to time at book which she has
propped up against the milk Ng-a book
Mr.. Stanford mentioned incid yntally one
day, and which she had obtaintd from the
village library.
The next morning Miss Ruth gets a let
ter. She knows the handwriting on the
envelope before she opens it.
Parish matters, of course" she saws to
herself. Perhaps it's about the school
treat"
She opens the envelope, unfolds the note
within and is reading it slowly, when sud
denly she utters low cry, her breath comes
fast and the familiar world about her
grows in moment strange and unreal
For it is a love letter. She is thirty-three
and this is her very first.
And from such MANTLE man whom
she has looked up to and reverenced and
followed so humbly and modestly ever
since she first saw himl She goes down to
breakfast with flushed face, uuiyering
lips and radiant eyes.
Miss Cornelia's just on the ramp this
morning, miss" says the little maid warn
ingly as she meets Ruth in the narrow
passage that does duty for hall
Miss Ruth NOD. I'd smiles as if this were
the pleasantest intelligence possible Cor
nelia's diatribes this morning fall upon
needless ears.
Ruth answers at intervals, "Yes, dear"
and "No, dear" and 81 will see to it. sis
ter" as in duty bound; but her heart and
oul are filled with one thought-that won
derful letter
After breakfast Miss Cornelia goes out
to visit her district Then Miss Ruth takes
up her pen and writes tremblingly out of
the fullness of her heart:
DEAR MIR. STANFoRD-Your letter has sur
prised me very much. l scarcely know what
to say, except that am most grateful to YOU
1t is so good of you to love me us you say you
do. and love has always seemed such beauti-
full thing to me, though never thought that
1t was likely to come to either my sister or me-
put I ole IN hax hol