Hot Springs weekly star. (Hot Springs, S.D.) 1892-1917, 1894-06-22

ted the word with q | the strength in
my power, so as to enforce my remark.
"You can't expect every one" [ added,
"'to have lived at Highfield.'"
u bog your pardon" the young man
said, leaning across toward me with a
smile, and speaking in that absurdly
suave, bland voice Of his, but l think
you misunderstood. The village of
'Ighteld---"
"Excuse me-" l said, somewhat curt
ly; but for your own sake. if you will
allow me to say so, l think we had bet
ter not continue this discussion any
aud unpleasant for you. | tell you the
truth, Mr."
l paused. with burning cheeks, for
in the heat OF my indignation I'd for
gotten the fellows re ,pected name,
even.
My name is 'Ampton, The said. look
ing towards me with grave p%oliteness.
This was really more than human
endurance could stand. Ny checks
burned like fire, my ears tingled.
10 tell you the truth, Mr.. Hamp-
ton," l said, in a low a voice as l could
compass. so as not to put him to need
less shame before the whole society,
"['m u .tickler fer the purity of our
mother tongue, and when any man
ventures"
Mr.. Hampton's face was rather red
now, though | saw q sort of suppressed
amusement in it at the same time,
which was positively indecent.
Excuse me-" he began once more,
still bland, but peremptoly, "you mis-.
take me entirely. l said ;Ampton."
Human nature is frail. It's the last
straw that breaks the cancels back. I
lost my temper.
Yes, l know you said 'Ampton," 1
answered with warmth. You must for
give MT If I have to set you right at
u pubic table on so delicate a subject:
but u man who doesn't know how to
pronounce his own name without q
hideous vulgarism of the most disgust
ing sort. is, in my opinion, unfit"
But before / could finish my sentence
by adding for the society of gentle
men," Silvia had seized my arm nerv.
ously.
Papa dear" she whispered, BLUSH
ing down to her very neck, and looking
handsomer than ever, do allow me to
explain fsMp The fact is his name real
Sylvia, my child" said I decisively,
for l won't be interfeled with by my
own daughter, will you allow me to
manage my conversation myself? Mr..
Hampton and 1 can get on very we'll in
decdwithout you. When l need your as
sistance, l won't forget to ask you for
it. Meanwhile, have the goodness to
plss the wine card, will you::"
Sylvia blushed crimson, which, Of
course, was very proper. and Mr..
Hampton turned round with a painfully
led face to his neighb5 r., who happened
to be q French woman, and began ex-
planning something volubly to her in
her W language. l don't deny he
seemed to talk it like a rStive. He had
all the foreign airs and graces, that
young man had: but, as | limited be-
fore, I regard al ability to speak the
languages of foreigners as dust in the
graceful pronunciation OF our own be-
loved and beautiful mother tongue.
After dinner I lounged awhile in the
smoking room, enjoying. my cigar, and
st airing blankly across the floor ut Mr..
Hampton, who was quite u~ndi=concert-
ed in the opposite orner Two or
three of his friends sat giggling around
him. He was telling them the story
of q mounted paper-chase, or hare .and
hounds. in which he had evidently
taken part at Cannes that morning
and to my intense disgust he remarked
over and over again that the ARE did
this, or the are did that, till, in a
fever of disgust, I could stand it no
longer. I rose and vent into the salon
to look for Maria and Sylvia. To my
surprise they weren't there. I re-.
turned through tho smoking room to
go up to our own salon, and as 1 passed,
that man Hampton assaulted my carr
once more with another Of his hideous
vulgarisms. They live in Ugh street,
PHILADELPHIA" he was remarking to 4
friend; ... ! + shud .an So. and pa's TS. on .
creature like that should venture t.
aspire To my beautiful Sylvia! An a.
pirant without an aspirate! Il dl!ed
me with Indignation.
ITO N oon4uusni