The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1894-10-13

| Il will tell you what seems TO me alb
solutely the best method of making love.
ON one condition.
What is the condition
why, that both of us-as soon as
have enlightened you-keep absolutely 81
lent until Tommy boat is finished You
promised to have it ready for him by IL,
and it is now a quarter past TO-
Agreed your condition is harsh, but
practical said Walton. applying him
self with fresh energy to his task of rigging
a mainmast for the said vessel.
well, got my ideal of love-making
through Mrs Simpson.
WHO is MIS-
Hush you are not to speak, remem-
Der Mrs Simpson is the grocer's wife
down in the village; she used TO be our
nurse years ago before dear mamma died,
and she and | have always been great
friends One day in frolicsome mood |
inquired if Mr. Simpson was very. very
nervous when he asked her to marry him
he is a dreadfully timid man. may say
She laughed and said:
q L don't think he ever did ask Inc to
marry him. Miss Marina 1t isn't our
way He used to tease me and | used to
tease him for long time when he came to
the parsonage for orders Then one morn
ing he said quite serious like 'Will you
walk out with me, miss?' it was Polly
at other times. | said | didn mind; so
We walked out together for nearly twelve
month, and then began to talk about fur
nishing.
= But surprising in the meantime You
had changed your minds ?
We'll, we should have had a tiff most
likely, and shouldn't have walked ont to-
gether any more, that all
Now | think, continued Miss Null
grove, that the unsentimental courtship
of people like Mr.. and Mrs. Simpson. who
are thoroughly happy pair, is vastly
superior to the article supplied by the nov
elist People in their station don't COM
NIT themselves too deeply before they are
married, and they are generally happier
afterwards. >
There was slight tremor in her voice
as she concluded. Walton. for his part,
looked grave He had bound himself not
to speak, but he was evidently dissatisfied.
1t was relief to both of them when, at
the end of half an hour, bright, fair
haired boy of about 8 years came leaping
down the steps of the terrace, under the
shelter of which they were sitting. This
lad was Tommy Mulgrove, commonly called
by his sister Marina, that precious mite
dome yet?' cried he, making a tenn
pestuous rush at his sister and planting
himself unceremoniously at her side.
Nearly. And what about the verb 2
Eo, is, it, linus, tits, cunt, sang out
the youngster in a confident tone. clasping
Marina $ arm and swingingi it to the rythm
of his recital
fiush-h-hr'
Then Tommy rave his attention to the
ship building. The schooner rugged
craft which was soon to be all his own was
now completed save in one respect-a name.
The outline of this Lieutenant Walton was
at that moment carving. As he finished.
he said:
That must do for today, Thomas Let
tiers of gold tomorrow, after the trial trip.
''0h, but | say, that isn't fair ex-
claimed the lad, in a disappointed tone, as
he spelt out the name that had been
carved. Look, sis! Fancy calling my
yacht Miss Mulgrove l thought it
was going to be Richard and Marina,
for you We both helped to make it for me,
haven you now p
The situation was trying one for the
young people. On the previous day Tommy
had, in the emphatic style of small boys,
declared that the yacht, then only just be-
gun, must be called Richard and Mari
ma, and no objection was raised at the
time Since, however, there had been
indications that Richard contemplated sug-
costing much more important combina-
ton of the two Names 1t was to prevent
his designs from reaching practical shape
in plain words, to avoid proposaEthat
Marina had started that conversation about
love and marriage, with which the reader
is already familiar. Her free d-easy
treatment of the subject made an earnest
appeal such as he had determined upon
quite impossible. And her last little
speech contained, as he understood it, a.
very Significant hint OF her reply should he
persist in disregarding the warnings of her
previous remarks.
1t is easy enough to say faint heart
never won fair lady. For all that, be-
lieve Richard Walton was acting under an
impulse of manly courage in accepting his
fate. He loved truly enough to see her
duties as she saw them. She had the care
of four motherless children, besides those
numberless responsibilities of parish work
which had fallen on her shoulders when
the mother died eight years ago. And her
father had never been himself since the
shock of that dread parting. Realizing all
this, the young officer had, with somewhat