The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1895-06-30

seur in blue china / was asked the other
day. promptly replied in the affirmative.
But I thought he was an engineer" the
questioner objected; land haven't engin-
GERS got their heads cram full OF wheels
AMI steam engines and that sort of thing?''
This one seems TO have a little spare
room in his skull. You see there have been
such things as people who can paint pic
lures and are yet not deaf to music. or who
are able to appreciate statues in spite OF
their usual occupation being that of writ
ing books
How strange! So there actually seems
TO be some truth in the story. The idea
of having ones fate decided by a bit OF
blue china!"
1t was an idea which. despite the digni-
fed silence in which l let pass Mrs. Fuller's
last remark did not leave my fancy I'M
touched. Nor was it hard TO fix upon the
particular bit of blue china which must
have formed the pivot wherein the wheel
of romance could in this case scarcely
have escaped turning.
Indeed. Mrs Fuller had still been talk
ing when already there had risen before
my minds eye the vision of a certain blue.
ure and with a distinct squint in the ex-
preston Of its Clipped spout, not by any
means imposing to look upon, and yet
for ever occupying an unmistakable place
of honor. viz, a corner bracket on the din
ing-rOom wall, which in my personal eX-
perience had twice been freshly recovered
with ruby-red plush. More than once had
it been on the tip of my tongue to inquire,
almost a trihe scornfully, how that little
cracked blue teapot had come TO deserve
the gorgeousness of it's surroundings; but
the question had never actually been put,
and but for Mrs. Fullers aforementioned
remarks might possibly have remained I'M
uttered.
Something that answered to a halo Of
sanctity. or. at the very least, to a haze
of mystery, had always appeared to me
10 hover about that red plush corner, and
now that the shadow of a clew seemed
TO have fallen into my hand, 1 felt no
inclination to let it slip.
1t was with quite a new interest that
contemplated the corner bracket while
dining with my old school-fellow that
evening. Since my talk with Mrs. Fuller
my imagination always unpleasantly wide
awake, had taken the bit between its
teeth.
DO what would. my eyes were forever
wandering over my friends head back
to that dim corner. from out of whose
ruby-colored gloom the problematical tea
pot seemed to be winking at me with an
inexhaustible variety of expression. From
soup to dessert my Interchangeable fancy
forced me TO weave romances which show
ed an inclination to grow more prepos-
ferrous with every glass of my friend 5
excellent wine which 1 swallowed
"Can it have been an heirloOm% I re-
flected abstractedly; zone of those heather
relics on whose preservation the luck OF
a dozen generations depends? or else Sim
nart's great-grandfather poisoned some-
body else's great-grandfather with tea
made in that teapot-though, 10 be sure,
that would scarcely be a reason for place
ing II on pedestal-or else can it be"
7t'Theres something on your mind, my
dear fellow" Sinnart's voice interposed.
1--WE asked you twice to pass the wal
nuts"
/ became aware that the decanters were
on the table, and simultaneously felt that
the limits of my endurance were reached.
Yes i blurted out, there is some
thing on my mind, and If you want to
know the truth. it's that COMPOUNDED tea
pot of yours. I've always felt as though
it had a story to tell, but now I'm sure
of it. Why, the wretched thing has been
making faces at me behind your back
ever since we sat down to dinner"
Sinnart's lips twitched ever so lightly
and his eyes left my face in order to seek
those of Mrs. Sinnart opposite. AT the same
moment my hostess rose from her chair
with cheeks as pink as though she had been
fifteen instead of five and thirty.
Il think it is time to leave you to your
wine were her words, with a some
what Hurried little nod she glided from
the room, leaving me TO stare after her in
CONSERVATION, while a quite new, though
ehapeless vista of possibilities opened be-
fore my minds eye.
When the door had closed behind his
wife Sinnart's eyes came back to my face.
80 the teapot puzzles you, does it, old
fellow?'
81 only meant that I'm blest if know
why you take such lot of care of it," 1
replied feeling all at once shamefully in
discreet.
''such a lot of care of it? Nothing to what
It deserves. Don't you know that it's an
unique specimen of its kind?''
"And what may it, kind be-" 1 inquired
a trihe superciliously. 1T isn't Dresden,
Is it,"
No"
''Nor Sevres?"
Certainly not
Does it belong to any particular
school,"
"UndOubtedlytit does. To the school of
matchmakers.
1 suppose my gaze must have tickled his
fancy, for he burst into the same laugh
which l had heard when he was ten years
old.
you've never met matchmaking tea
pot before have you? Well take a good
look at this one. In spite of its innocently
blue and white face l tell you it's the most
hardened old plotter that has ever come
my way
Before had time to reply his face had
grown grave again.
You're right, old fellow he said, as he
meditatively reflled the two glasses.
THAT tea pot has got story to tell, and
I don't suppose Ada would have any OBJ
lection to your hearing it. 1t isn't long
tale either, this decanter will almost see
1t out, 1 imagine; so open your ears, and l
promise to make clean breast of it"
Having wheeled his chair round so as
more conveniently to face the mysterious
corner, Sinnart began within the same
breath.
"Well, Frank, my boy, you know that
am pretty near the top of the tree now, but
you know also that once upon a time
was at the bottom of it, and deucedly hard
climbing it has proved to be, as ! think
you are aware of too, though we didn't
see much of each other in the days when
1 lived in fragment of a London fiat, and
dined in a suburban pot-house.
Life was pretty grey at that time, but
no life is ever quite grey, and, sure enough,
l.,