The Mena weekly star., 1896-09-09

used to say, that could not do anything but stare at him. And when Fred Carey came in was positively provoked. But, then, never saw Fred quite so stupid and uninteresting.
 Not very long after that another very remarkable thing happened. The first wonderful thing, by the way, began to happen pretty frequently after awhile. l think have little knack of rhym- ing, and one day magazine-a real magazine took one of my pieces. Such thing had never happened before and | has never happened since. It was a sen timental little effusion, which was not about anything nor anybody in partic- ular, but it seemed to me to be pretty. and it sounded as if it meant good deal
 was standing on the porch when I opened the letter which the postman had just handed me. I remember it was beautiful spring morning, when my cup of happiness was running over anyway, and this last drop was almost | too much. l was about to fly into the house as fast as my disabled ankle would allow, when heard the click of | the gate. 1 waved my letter to Dr. Griffin as he came up the walk. and he smiled at my absurdly radiant face. 1t was almost worth while to be so grim looking, to be so transformed by a smile, I thought to myself I did not wait for greetings or questions.
 T have got piece accepted by the
 - magazinel" I said, eagerly.
 "Ah, that's good!" he replied. And what are you scribbling about?"
 "Oh, it's just lovely!" I said. Don't you want me to say it to you?'- l ''Go ahead, and don't tumble it." he replied. dropping down upon one of the seats on the porch.
 l I clasped my hands behind me and rattled off my piece, flushing little as l did it from suppressed laughter at my own audacity. And then I looked at him for applause. There was a blank silence, and my eyes sank, and my cheeks grew hot with modification. "Humph!" he said at last, getting up from his seat. Well how is that ankle | of yours?"
 It seemed my fate always to be seen 1 by Dr. Griffin at disadvantage-fro the time when he just saved me from murdering papa with the wrong medi- cine, on through various misadventures almost to the present day, and I have hated him afresh every time, as if it were all his fault. Some people al- ways see one at her best-he appeared on the scene invariably when one was least desirous of spectators.
 l 1 started out with rather a sinking heart not long after the adventure of the poem-which incident, by the way, had ranked not little in my mind--to hunt up Sunday school pupil who had | dropped off, after an attendance of a Sunday or two upon my class. He was said to live on small street which had never heard of, in q remote and not especially genteel part of the city which had never explored, and foresaw that I should get lost. l stopped on my way at the house of another pupil of mine, | whom I knew to be ill, and whom l had been visiting for some time.
 l His mother received me in a cold, stuffy little parlor, and entertained me while Johnnie was being made ready for company. listened sympathetical- | ly to long narrative of the heartless | treatment she had received from her i! physician, who really did seem to have neglected his poor little patient, and to have been rude and overbearing beside. I had passed him once as I went in. and had noticed how red and bloated his face was, and had thought then that be drank. He was a physician, suppose, of no standing. l had never before heard his name.
 And then" she concluded. ''I just | 'phoned for Dr. Griffin. My husband said: Don't you be bothering Dr. Griffin; he's got more'n he can do tend ing to the rich people, But he's got time to tend to poor people, too, as well I knew. And I 'phoned, and he came. An, he's an angel in sicltroom!"
 The comparison struck me as so ludi- crous that a smile rose to my face be fore I could check i,.
 "If was Queen Victoria and Johnnie was the queens sen he couldn't be no kinder. Now, you can just walk right in and see how peart Johnnie's gettin. 7
 After leaving there | walked on. and on, and on, as the story books say, and it really did seem that I had embarked upon one of the vague, nightmareish quests of the Morse tales. The end of
 my journey seemed always just at hand
 and still it heightened, heightened ill
 could fancy that I was lovelorn princess looking for the castle of the