The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1893-11-02


down the porch like white rat, and his
nightgown glimmered moment on the
graveled walk ere he was lost to sight in
the darkness of the shrubbery. A brief
interval of silence ensued, broken suddenly
by sound of scuffle and then shrill,
long drawn squeal as of metallic surfaces
in friction. Our scout had fallen into the
hands of the enemyl
Incidence alone had made us devolve the
task of investigation on our younger broth
er. Now that danger had declared itself
there was no hesitation. In a second we
were down the side of the porch and crawl
ing Cherokee wise through the laurels tc
the back of the gaE1en seat. Piteous was
the sight that greeted u.s. Aunt Maria was
on the seat, in white evening frock, look.
ing-for an aunt-really quite nice. On the
lawn stood an incensed curate, grasping
our small brother by large ear, which
Judging from the row he was making
seemed on the point of parting company
with the head it adorned. The grewsome
noise he was emitting did not really affect
us otherwise than esthetically. TO one
who has tried both, the wall of genuine
physical anguish is easily distinguishable
from the pumped up ad miscriordiam blub-
Der. Harold's could clearly be recognized
as belonging to the latter class. "Now,
you young''- (whelp. think it was, but
Edward stoutly maintains it was devil
said the curate sternly, tell us what you
mean by itr
well, leggo of my ear, then" shrilled
Harold, land I'll tell you the solemn
truth"
Every WE'LL" agreed the curate, releasing
him; now go ahead and don't lie more
than you can help"
We abode the promised disclosure with
out the least misgiving, but even we had
hardly given Harold due credit for his fer
tility of resource and powers of imagina-
ton.
81 had just finished saying my prayers"
began that young gentleman slowly, when
happened to look out of the window, and
on the lawn l saw sight which froze tho
marrow in my veinsl A burglar was ap-
preaching the house with snakelike tread
He had scowl and dark lantern, and he
was armed to the teethln
We listened with interest The style,
though unlike Harold's native notes,
seemed strangely familiar.
go on" said the curate grimly.
"Pausing in his stealthy career" con
tinued Harold, ''he gave low whistle. In,
stantly the whistle was responded to, and
from the adjacent shadows two more fig.
ures glided forth. The miscreants were
both armed to the teeth"
Excellent" said the curate. Proceed"
1.-THE robber chief" pursued Harold,
warming to his work, Joined his nefarious
comrades and conversed with them in silent
tones. His expression was truly ferocious,
and 1 ought to have said that he was armed
to the IT,
There, never mind his teeth" inter
rupted the curate rudely; there's too much
jaw about you altogether. Hurry up and
have done"
II was in frightful funk" continued
the narrator, warily guarding his ear with
his hand, but just then the drawing room
window opened and you and Aunt Maria
came out-I mean emerged. The burglars
vanished silently into the laurels with hor
rid implicationsp
The curate looked slightly puzzled. The
tale was well sustained and certainly circum-
stantial. After all, the boy might have really
seen something. How was the poor man tc
know-though the chaste and lofty diction
might have supplied hint-that the whole
yarn was free adaptation from the last
penny dreadful lent us by the knife and
boot boy? "Why did you not alarm the
house?" he asked.
II was afraid" said Harold sweetly.
"that they would not believe mel"
But how did you get down here, you
naughty little boy2" put in Aunt Maria
Harold was hard preased-by his own
flesh and blood tool At that moment Ed
ward touched me on the shoulder and
glided off through the laurels. When some
10 yards away, he gave low whistle. re-
piled by another. The effect was magical.
Aunt Maria started up with shrek.
Harold gave one startled glance around
and then fed like hare, made straight for
the back door, burst in upon the servants
at supper and buried himself in the broad
bosom of the cook, his special ally. The
curate faced the laurels hesitatingly. But
Aunt MSsia flung herself on him. "Oh,
Mr.. Hodgitts," heard her cry, you are
brave-for my sake do not be rashl' He
was not rash When peeped out second
later, the coast was entirely clear.
By this time there were sounds of a
household timidly emerging, and Edward
remarked to me that perhaps we had bet
ter be off. Retreat was an easy matter. A
stunted laurel gave a leg up onto the gar
den wall, which led in its turn to the roof
of an clubhouse. up which, at a dubious
angle, we could crawl to the window of
the bedroom. This overland route had
been revealed to us one day by the domes-
tic cat when hard pressed in the course of
an otter hunt in which the cat-somewhat
unwillingly-was filling the title role, and
it had proved distinctly useful on occasions
like the present. We were snug in bed
minus some cuticle from knees and elbows
and Harold, sleeRily chewing something
sticky, had been carried up in the arms of
the friendly cook ere the clamor of the
burglar hunters had died away.
The curate's undaunted demeanor, as re-
ported by Aunt Maria, was generally sup
posed to have terrified the burglars into
fight, and much kudos accrued to him
thereby Some days later, however, when
he had dropped into afternoon tea and was
making mild curatorial joke about the
moral courage required for taking the last
piece of bread and butter, l felt constrained
to remark dreamily and, as it were, to the
universe at large, mr. Hodgitts, you are
brave-for my sake do not be rashl"
Fortunately for me, the vicar was also a
caller on that day, and it was always a
comparatively easy matter to dodge my
long coated friend in the open.-Kenneth
Grahame in National Observer.
Tipping the Hat TO Ladies'.
1t is believed that the custom Of raising
the hat in saluting ladies is derived from
the DAYS Of ciiyalrv when the kniorhta m