The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1895-07-13


NEN "of course l know
her name," said he;
LM W land a very pretty
ono it is. Perry
w Miss Perry"
"But who is it you are talking
sbout?" said pretty Joyce, who had
been preparing mustard paste for her
brothers chest.
Capt. Renwick answered promptly:
my sweetheart
Kenneth. don't be ridiculous!" said
his mother, somewhat tartly.
''The sweetest, prettiest blossom in
all the Adirondack wilderness!' pur-
sued Kenneth. 1.-The fairest of-Cat-
NIP tea! l declare, Joyce, won't drink
1t. What do you take me for?"
''It's the best thing in the world for
a cold on the chest" said Mrs. Rem
wick "Oh, if You had only kept away
from that camping party!"
II mistook her for the boatman's
daughter the first time," said Capt.
Renwick. ''She-"
Kenneth, don't talk-please don't
talkr' urged his mother. Its the
worst thing you could possibly do, with
your lungs all congested, and"
"But must talkr' said the captain.
Consider, mother, Joyce hasn't heard
word about it. She only came last
night. Fancy, Joyce, my being fool
enough to mistake her for boatman's
daughter!''
"Why, aren't boatmen's daughters as
nice and ladylike as anyone?" said
Joyce, readjusting her apron ribbons.
'Oh, but this boatman lives In a per-
petual state of shirt sleeves!" said Rem
wick; land he is a living fountain of
tobacco juice and talks abomina BILE
grammar through his nose. And his
wife is low class Of Meg Merrilies,
who takes too much bad whisky when
ever she has an opportunity. How
ever made such bluider can't imag-
inc. But Jenkins sent me up to the
lake head to hire boat, and when
saw her sitting there among the water
lilies, jumped at once to the conclu-
sion that this was the boat to hire.
My good girl says I-fancy my idiocy!
If you will just row me up to Needle
point, and call for me again In the
evening, I'll give yon q dollar"
"And she?" said Joyce
"Rowed me up, of course. wish
You could have seen the way in which
she handled the oars. But it was
Dolph, the tobacco-soaked old boat
man. who called for me at sunset.
why didn't you send your daughter?'
says 1. 1t wasn't my darter, says he;
it was Miss Perry Well, then, met
her at the picnic. We talked together
half the evening. She is as beautiful
as she is graceful, and as intelligent as
she is beautiful"
Ibid you apologize" asked Joyce.
'sOf course apologized," said Capt.
Kenneth. "And we had good laugh
over it. She had been after water
lilies, she said. She paints EN- in
water colors. am to have one when
they are finished. Joyce, you must
know her: She is beauty. And she
dances like sylph, and sings like
Patti, and"
''Nonsense!' said Joyce. "a farm
er's daughter, seen through the big
end of the opera glass! You were al
ways victim to delusions, Kenneth"
''My dear Joyce, assure YOU
Children, children!' demonstrated
Mrs Renwick, piteously, do have
little common sense. Kenneth, you
know you ought not to talk. Joyce,
don't you hear how hoarse your broth
err is? If pneumonia should set in after
this exposure"
Capt. Reuwiclk made an expressive
grirnace. Joyce looked little appre-
hensive.
Mamma" said she, you always
were a pessimist. It's only cold that
ails Kenneth"
"But it is settling on his lungs, my
DEAR" said Mrs. Renwick, plaintively
And out here in the wilderness there
isn't even a drug store short of fifteen
miles. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! why did /
ever allow myself to be persuaded to
come to the Adirondaclss?"
1.-The scenery, mammal" said Joyce,
soothingly.
"But one can't eat and drink scenery.
And this woman knows absolutely
nothing about omeiettes and French
coffee, and she never broiled a beef
steak in her life until showed her
how. As for her soups, they are simply
uueatable. And the beds are as hard
as the neither milestone, and the
mosquitoes are unendurablew
"All these are trivial annoyances,"
said Capt. Kenwick, skillfully contriv-
ing to tip over the catnip tea ITO me,
the Adirondacks are the garden of the
worldl l shall never be willing to go
anywhere else in the summer. And
she says Il is even finer here in the
winter, with the trifiing exception Of a
little solitude"
Kenneth" cried his mother, in
agonized accents, you must not talk!"
MY dearest mother, am all right if
You only won't freti" declared the
nro<1iCal son