The Austin weekly statesman. (Austin, Tex.) 1883-1898, 1893-11-02
WHO THE STRANGE LADY WAS.
A Jolt of the Street Car Clears Up the Mys-
terry for Near-Sighted Housewife.


terry for a Near-sighted Housewife.
She was young and pretty, and had
evidently not been married long. She
got into street car with friend and
settled herself comfortably in corner;
when the conductor came around there
was an admirable squabble over who
should pay the fares, which ended in
two dimes being simultaneously offered
to him. After he had passed on she
leaned forward and said in an impress
sive tone to her companion:
"You know how awfully near-sighted
1 am; 1 go on doing the most awful
things because of it; why, once l intro.
duced man to his fiancee, MISLEADING
him for someone else. and once in the
dusk mistook papa in the hall for a
burglar and fled screaming down.
stairs"
"1t must be very inconvenient to be
so near-sighted, her friend replied.
Indeed it is. Now there is lady
at the other end of the car who seems
very familiar to me. No, don't look,
she will know we are talking. about
her. But 1 must know her and she Is
evidently waiting for me to speak.
Every time I glance that way she is
looking straight at me and then she
turns hastily away. o, 1 suppose she
is one of Henry's friends. You know
so many of them have called upon me-"
perhaps she mistakes you for some
one else" suggested her friend, sooth-
ingly. 'By the way, how is your new
cook getting on?"
80, she is really treasure, so neat
and respectful, and such a good cook.
Henry says 1 am splendid house
keeper, but the truth is l hardly ever
know what is to be on the table until
/ sit down to it."
81 hope You don't tell him that"
"Mercy, no. do wish / knew who
that lady isl believe 1 will bow to
her; no, she has turned away. She
seems to have on lovely bonnet, too.
BY the way, you should see my new
bonnet; it is perfect dream. Henry
gave it to me after our first quarrel,
and 1 intend to keep it always.
wanted awfully to wear it this after
noon, but it looked too much like rain"
80 it does. By the way, Dora lives
in the next square; let us step in and
see her. She will be sure to know it if
there is any truth in that report that
the Brieays intend to separate. don't
approve of gossip. Still, if there is
anything wrong on one may as well
know it."
o"Very true; suppose we do stop.
Henry will not be home until dinner
time, and the cook will have every
thing ready. What comfort she is!
To be sure, Henry says that two
people ought not to drink TWEEN
ty-eight pounds of coffee month
and that twelve dollars worth
Of meat week is too much.
Still, we must eat it, for the cook says
she is strict vegetarian, and that the |
doctor does not allow her to taste cof- |
fee. Well, here is Dora's street; let us
get out. do wish, though, had on
my new bonnet. Dora has such lovely |
taste, and she could never afford to get |
one like it."
AS they started out the strange lady
modestly turned her head away.
SO, must bow to her as we pass" |
she whispered. 81 am sure she is one |
of Henry's swell friends"
As they passed the unknown the car !
gave a sudden lurch and threw the |
near-sighted lady against the object of
her scrutiny. There were two starts,
two ordinations, one of alarm and
one of horror. A moment later the
bride and her friend stood on the street
corner gazing at each other.
81 should say do know her." she
painted. "Why, it was the cook, and
she was wearing my new bonnetr-
Chicago Tribune.