Blackfoot news. (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1891-1902, 1895-07-13
THE WIT OF MAN.

met her at garden party, not a
joyous gathering of tennis players and
girls laughing TO the sun. but the
gloomy affair of the morbidly select.
In bright red she blossomed with all
the sweets of woman majestically
feminine. Her crisp. black hair seemed
ready to fly out against conventionali-
ties, against hats particularly, and her
brown eyes were golden with the joy
OF life; wit had chiseled her features,
so excellently irregular in the round
ness Of their curves, to pointed nose
and chin. l could not but enjoy, as a
relief from all the elaborate angles Of
her stih surroundings, the rapid I'M
| dulations Of her 1.-the figure. her ex-
pressive arms, dancing little feet, as
she sat there, a wild gypsy, fashion
able and polished, but stin untamed
by society. Pouting like some playful
child over lessons, her mouth rigidly
set against the Pickering dimples Of
irresistible laughter, she listened to
the pompous old Due de Retz, or an
swered his wise sentences at random,
with wave of her hand.
Who is she?' l inquired Of NJ. PIN
odan de st. 0uen, a walking edition
Of lie Tout Paris" tightly bound in a
frock coat.
Why, that is la belle Comtesse de
Crequi de Canaples; a widow, mon
cher. young, rich. If you admire her,
| here's your chance. The duke is dying
to talk politics with the Dowager de
BaudricOurt. Forward. to the rescuet
And NJ. Pimodan emitted that short,
dry cough which serves him as laugh
or cough, while I stepped up to NJ. de
| Retz, who gratefully introduced me.
Dear cousin. Mr.. Castlehigh-Com-
tesse de Canaples."
| And he retired as Nine. de Canaples
smiled up at me with her humorous
eyes. Her voice was fiuently musical
as she gaily said, I'VE are not quite
| strangers, for have met your charm
| ing sister at the Piot-Chandieus." Be
fore l could frame compliment, she
suddenly added, do you love herT'
"WhoY
Your sister, of course. like every
man to love his sister"
| "Ehf hOpt uO.
You only hope! Are you an Eng
lishmanY'
More or less"
Less, decidedly less. An English
man with blue eyes like yours should
not only be honest and brave, but
sure, sure of everything. Don't you
see? Don't you understand what
strength, what manliness there is I'm
] hningr a hlnlufnIN ar
quite wrong? 1t is healthy; every
thing strong and absolute is healthy.
What are you, then?'
well, cosmopolitan"
''Ah! bah" she exclaimed, with a
toss of her diminutive head. as she
surveyed me gOod-humoredly. "And
that means that you are not interest
ed in anything but the surface Of
things; that your Aspirations go no
higher than life will carry you; that
your feelings, philosophy, love, lounge
in mental Hotel Metropole and
never work at home. Have you no
preference for any countryT
81 think prefer France"
For shame! you a Castlehigh; you
whose very name seems rooted in
Saxon soil! All" she added, with an
other of her kindly smiles, II see 1t
| all; you think to flatter. But why
should you not speak tile truth?
adore the truth! You cannot possibly
love anything better than your birth
place, your family, your homew
| / laughed, saying: "You see, my
mother was French"
! She seized my hand and shook It
| frankly, as she exclaimed: "Then you
really did love your mother? You love
| her country? 'Tis well. All human
| greatness of man is in his devotion to
| his mother. France then seems to en-
fold you in her arms; the very air
caresses, soothes and nurses you! But
nevertheless, you are an Englishman.
| This mixture of races and names
| breaks traditions Of hereditary faith.
Man must be steadfast. Only a woman
may capriciously adopt and passion
ately her love across the seas; may
be irresponsible, except to God. her
self and her husband Man must be
the rock to which we cling. He is
our country, our name, our heart.
Remember that song Of your people:
I'm spite Of all temptations
TO belong to other nations,
he remains an Englishman."
How nice of him! You know there
are temptations, for England means
duty-but l am preaching; excuse me.
You have such a real honest British
/ face, that | cannot help feeling dis
appointed at finding you a mere cos
mopolitan. Go back to England:
there Is the place for the clever and
the brave
you tiatterw
'Neverw
"But feel fiattered"
you should feel ashamed, then, as
fiattery commences where truth ceases.
Are you not clever; are you not
brave? Well, at any rate you have
enough false modesty to please most
people Of the world"
/ blushed.
Have | hurt your feelings" she
said, with her hand on my arm, in
u