Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1895-04-19

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At last the girl said: "You were
angry at me yesterday"
mo, i wasn't"
"Yes, you were, too. You wouldnr
look at me once all day."
mo, | wasn't angry. l was only put.
ting on" 4.
Though she had, of course, known It.
this confession seemed to make her very
angry. She flashed a resentfl glance
at him. "Oh, were you, indced!" she
said, with great air.
For few minutes she was so naughty
with him that he loved her to madness.
And directly this great poem which
stuck at his lips came forth lamely in
fragments.
When they walked back toward the
other girl and saw the patience of her
attitude, their hearts swelled in a pat
ronizing and secondary tenderness for
her
They were very happy. If they had
been miserable they would have
charged this fairy scene of the night
with a criminal heartlessnes, but as
they were joyous, they vaguely Won
dered how the purple sea, the yellow
stars, the changing crowd under the
electric lights could DO so phlegmatic
and stolfd.
They walked home by the lakeside
way and out upon the water, those gay
paper lanterns, flashing, leeting and
careering, sang to them, sang a chorus
of red and violet and green and gold,
a song Of mystic lands of the future.
One day when business paused dur
ing the dull, sultry afternoon, Stimson
went up town. Upon his return he
found that the popcorn man from his
stand over in n corner was keeping an
eye upon the cashiers cage, and that
nobody at all was attending to the
wooden arm and the iron rings.
He strodc forward like sergeant OF
grenadiers. where in thunder is Liz
zic?" he demanded, a storm of rage in
his eyes.
The popcorn man, although long as
ISOLATED with Stimson, had never got
over being dazed. hey've-they've-
gone round to th'-th' house." he said,
with difficulty, as if he had just been
stunned.
"Whose house?" snapped Stimson.
"Your-your house, l spose," said
the popcorn man.
Stimson marched round to his home.
Imperial denunciations surged, al
ready formulated, to the tip Of his
tongue, and he bided the moment when
his anger could fall upon the heads Of
that pair of children.
He found his wife convulsive and in
tears.
"Where's Lizzie?"
And then she burst forth: ooh
John-John-they've run away-I know
they have. They drove by here not
three minutes ago. They must have
done it on purpose to bid me good-by,
for Lizzie waved her hand sad-like, and
then, before l could get out to ask
where they were going or what, Frank
whipped up the horse and they were
gone"
Stimson gave vent to dreadful roar.
Get my revolver-get a hacli-get my
revolver, d, do you hear-what the
dcvil"-his voice became incoherent in
a chaotic rage.
He had always ordered his wife about
as if she We're battalion of infantry,
and despite her misery, the training of
years caused her to spring mechanic
ally to obey, but suddenly she turned
to him shrill appeal.
"Oh, John-not-the revolver"
"Confound it, let go of me-" he roared
again and shook her from him.
He ran hatless upon the street. There
was multitude Of hacks at the sum-
mer resort, but it was ages to him be-
fore he could find one. Then he charged
it like bull. Sup town" he yelled, as
he tumbled into the rear scat. The
hacllman thought of severed arteries
and broken bones. His galloping horse
distanced large number of citizens
who had been running to find what
caused such contortions by the little
hatless man.
vent along near the Lake. Stisr .or
sazca across the calm. grly .exps.ase
nd recognized q color in bonlet and
spoise 81 6 bead. a buggy was t.av-
sling along o highway that led TO Scr.
'ingt1n. stimsen beloved: There
aars--tac''c thcgase--in that buggy
The liae's,-las becatac Inspired with
sne AL i.nowlci!ge Of tie ai.-a.ioa
e straa's his ho-1c ds..irio-s blo..
III The whip. lis noatii expanded.
a Gril Of cxsiteracat ecl ioy. /;
aine 10 PISS that this cid vehicle. with
s.roggi? heise and is dg:sty eyed IN,
rsnqaii driger. seemed ell Suddenly t,
s.a':en, 20 become animated and lcet
re horse ceased to ruEl:na;c on his
nc, his air Of reflection sani.hcd. lie