Blackfoot news. (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1891-1902, 1895-05-11

/ tial as possible on this special occasion.
Yes" said Glare, nodding her head
| so that certain spirals of golden brown
hair which always hung over her fore
head danced coquettishly up and down,
Il am pretty. And then that $1,000 a
| year that Uncle Bruce's will secured to
me isn't altogether a disagreeable pill
| for some of my lovers to swallow. l
| don't think was made for an heiress.
| I've always had an idea that 1 should
make splendid poor mans wife.
| She took from her belt a withered
rose and bunch of faded violets as she
| spoke, and arched her pretty eyebrows
\ over them in a puzzled fashion.
Harvey Gehette gave me the rose, ="
| she soliloquized. He's very hand
| some, and 1 always did have a weak
ness for handsome people and he's a
rising young man in his profession
people say. like talented people, too.
| III keep the rose just little while. ="
/ And she laid II away in a certain satin
1 lined box where she was wont to treas
ure souvenirs of these. her girlish days
And Frank Hoods violets-poor Frank
I Hood! He's so silent and so awkward,
and yet there's something about him
| that won't let you despise him. Well,
not just yet"
And Glare went composedly to bed.
For why should she lie awake and
lose the roses of her complexion and
dim the sparkle of those glorious velvet
| eyes, thinking about the respective
| claims of the various lovers who how
| cred. mother-like, about the torchlight
| Of her charms? There was time enough
to make up her mind-quite time
| enough.
So. in the very middle of the sea-
son, when balls. operas and dejeunes
dancantes were at their height. and
when old Aunt Dalmayne wrote a pitt
eous letter up to her brother in town,
setting forth that she had the rheuma-
tiz dreadful bad, and that there wasn't
no reliable help to be had, and she was
that lonesome that she couldn't stand
it any longer and wouldn't one Of her
three nieces come down and stay with
her spell?'' Glare astonished the fam
lily circle by volunteering to go.
MY dear" said Mrs Wintringham,
you don't know what you are under
| taking. 1t is a common farmhouse, not
even painted, among the hills"
And Alantha Ann is as full of whims
as an egg can be OF meat" said Papa
Wintringham. rubbing his nose. But
suppose she is lonesome"
Well" said Glare. "Miriam's busy
with her conservatory lessons and her
German class and Laura belongs to
those sociables. and l seem to be the
only one disengaged. Besides. 1 am
getting tired of balls and dances and
suppers. l should like to try the other
extreme just for fun"
a
tiful to Clare Nottingham that frosty
! December night, as the jolting old wa
gon. with a buffalo robe spread over
the seat, and a sleepy old horse trot-
ting in front, turned into the valley
road. and she could see the ancient
farmhouse. steep-roofed and brown
with half a century Of suns and rains.
with the maple boughs wrestling over
head in the gale. and the wooded hills
rising UP on every side, while one ruddy
beam Of light glowed from the tiny
window under the caves, casting, as it
might be, a jayelin Of brightness ath-
wart the road in front Of the door
Il guess she's expectin' Of you" said
the rough character who had been sent
to the depot to meet Mrs. Dalmayne's
city niece, but I'm afraid you'll find
it desput lonesome"
And she entered the low-ceiled kitch-
en-, all aglow with the roaring fire Of
pine logs on the hearth. Aunt Dalmayne
had evidently bestirred herself, for the
table was spread, and the old lady her
self hobbled forward on a crutch to well
come her niece
Well, my dear" cried Aunt Dali
mayne, stepping back to take a second
survey. you're as pretty as a picture"
Am II" said Glare. laughing. But.
aunty, what a glorious fire you've got.
and what a darling old urn. and how
good that tea does smell!'
And before Glare slept that night
she had taken Mrs. Dalmayne's heart
fairly by storm.
She had been an inmate Of the farm
house for about a week. when one Of
those grand ante-Christmas snow
storms came on which veil the whole.
country in spotless white and hang the
woods in royal robes Of ermine. Aunt
Dalmayne's rheumatism grew worse
and she kept her room, but Clare went
about as light-hearted as ever, doing
the whole work Of the house. with such
assistance as Moses Peckham, the hired
man, was able to render.
The snow had fallen steadily all day
blown into drifts by the wind that
howled Iugubriously through the gor-
ges OF the hills, and at last the twilight
deepened over the stormy earth. Glare
was sitting thOughtfully before the
freight. peeling apples for pudding.
which was dear to Aunt Dalmayne's
soul, when Moses came In.
Miss Clare" said he, there's two
gentlemen got storm bound outside. and
their horse Is clean tired out, and thew
wanted to know If we'd give 'em a
nights shelter. I told 'em Mrs. DaI-
mayne was sick. and ! wasn't boss, but
I'd ask the young woman that does the
work"
Glare winched a little and then
laughed outright at Moses unpublished
language.
"Of course they may come in" she |
said. 81 wouldn't turn even a dog from
the door on such night as this"
And she threw fresh log on the fire
What was her amazement, on turning
to welcome the strangers, to behold IN
them no strangers at all, but Harvey
Gillette and his friend, Frank Hood!
poWdered IfbaraIIv t1yItb