The Madison daily leader. [volume] (Madison, S.D.) 1890-current, 1894-04-17
TT WAS A DREAM.

Mrs. Warrenton sat in her little blue
and white parlor in o beruffied white
muslin, her blond hair in a classic knot,
her blue eyes filed with we'll bred ennui
and her feet in coquettish blue and
white canvas slippers idly prodding the
lazy old Maltese tabby lying Just out of
range Of the rocker.
Mrs. Warrenton sighed deeply and
looked at her guest sideways
GOOD gracious, Bob, you are enough
to provoke a saint" she broke out. with
sudden petulance.
IF You were anything but the great
dull boy that you are" continued his
hostess aggrievedly, "you would see
that I am dying of stagnation. You're
the only interesting person know, and
now you come here and talk about the
hot weather and look out of the window
and don't offer an original suggestion or
a new idea when I'm fairly verging ON
intellectual starvation. Do something,
say S0AAACt1AaAS IN 81 AOAAAGA #s @-
1.-THE weather il too warm for much
mental energy, but I think IL you famed
me for five minutes / might evolve q
thought I'd go home only it's shut up
for the summer, and I'm sick of the
club, and you are the only available
amusement"
Mrs. Warrenton arose majestically,
possessed herself Of q large palm leaf fan
and began tanning the thinker.
You're sure you're thinking? Don't
dare to go to sleep!'' she exclaimed as
the brows unlimited into peaceful Sc
renity. Times upF'
Mr.. Vinton Enclosed his eyes and sat
bolt upright
"You look" said he ir~relevantly,
like a Dresden china shepherdess In all
those white rufles and pink ribbon Put
on the big hat with pink roses, and Jon
can play Phyllis"
ITS that all you've thought out?''
mo-" continued Bob radiantly.
1--WE thought further. You play Phyl-
lis, and I'll be Strephon, and well so
to Arcadia"
Suppose, Bob, you should tip me
over
"~Strephon, remember, Strephonl'
prompted Bob as he padded out slowly
into the stream in the red glow Of the
sunset skies.
"Well, Strephon, thenl', and Mrs
Warrenton dabbled her finger tips in
the water and forgot torepeat her ques-
ton. ST didn't know the Charles was
so beautiful. What's all that green bank
and bridges and shady nookery up
there?'
Arcadia said Bob sententiously.
Mrs. Warrenton leaned back, nestled
her pretty head against the shawls and
looked picturesque.
MI. Vinton padded industriously and
gazed straight ahead toward his destina-
ton.
lyon look ever SO handsome in your
shirt sleeves. / always like men better
i'm their shirt sleeves-they' re so much
more picturesque. Why don't you paint
your next hero in shirt sleeves, pad
ding o canoe with a pretty girl-that's
T. of course, !" looking sentiment at him.
Look sentiment at me, Phyllis, and
I will, /" said Bob lightly.
All right, Strephon, bnt what shall
we talk about?"
do you remember, Phyllis, the att
ernoon I taught you to skate out on the
marshes? And going home in the early
dark winter afternoon you slipped ON
the ice and hurt your ankle and cried
you were only q girl of 10 then-what
apretty girl thoughl-and / put my arm
around you and helped you home and
kissed you q sweetheart kiss in the base
ment vestibule. That was o good many
years ago, Phyllis"
HYou were a nice boy, Strephon, bat
you were always bold. said Mrs. War
renton. And then she added, with q
touch Of coquetry, Would you believe
it, I've the valentine you sent me--the
one in q box with pink roses and Cupid?y
II used to think you'd settle down TO
marrying me when you tired OF flirting
with Jack Warrenton. That's why 4
didn't shoot him before he ever married
you, Nell''-
Phyllis Phyllis, " she interrupted,
smiling. But he did not smile.
Phyllis I mean-but my going on
to Rome that summer was a &c Of pique.
You said you didn't care, and when /
came back yon were married, and I'm
sure I've acted like an angel ever since
i wonder III ron ever did carer
Il wonderi'' murmured Mrs. Warren
ton dreamily. And now, " she contin-
ned. you're going 70 marry that nice
Little girlof yours down DC Newporf and
be . steadygoing Benedict and never
amy more spend afternoons in Arcadia
with Phyllis.
.sFactl'' returned Bob : little bitter
u, and Is . streak Of dying sunlight
| struck acwoes his fazA fhrouCh fhe