The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1896-04-23
DIANA AND THE SPIDER.
Mrs. Jacks Tale of How She Met
Defeat on the Big Muddy.

The Band, Gusset and Seam" is a
society recruited from an exclusive cir
Gle of Mob Hills young matrons. L.
meets through the winter, with aggra-
waited activity during Lent, at houses
of the members; its motto, First fan
nels to the indigent;" its symbol, IL
thimble or, crossed by pair of scis'
sors argent, on a background of fan
lei gules, surmounted by a spool of
thread couchant.
The demure maid who serves bouillon,
tea and chocolate to the society's fair
Decreases, hears tales from every quar-
ter of the globe, of life in the summer
colonies along the New England coast,
of yachting cruises through Norwegian
fords in the yellow wake of the mid
night sun, of walking tours in the
Landes, and camping trips in the north
woods. She knows her planet better
than many whose orbits are less crcun-
scribed, and can safely be relied upon
for information regarding elk in Ore
gon or salmon in the Columbia, the
proper time to hunt the grizzly in AS
s.niboia, and the relative merits of the
Andalusian donkey and his twin broth
81, the Rocky mountain burro.
After serving the Bradamante of the
society with a cup of tea and a caviare
sandwich, she retires to a dusky cor
ner of the room, retills the lamps under
the brazen kettle, and rearranges the
Dresden cups and saucers and the
jewel-mounted spoons upon the teak
wood table.
When the f1uffy-haired Mrs. Jack
the society's president and the hostess
of the occasion, begins her story, there
is a lull in the talk, which the wind fills
in with neatly-executed arpeggio.
Mrs. Jacks mouth droops in wistful
curves, and beside her eyes an infants
would seem sophisticated.
Jack says L must go with him to
Africa, but l shall never dare to look a
tiger in the face, after my experience
on the Big Muddy"
Mrs. Jacks adventures have familiar
lied the society with Tin Cup, Big Bug,
Bundle Bee and Medicine Hat. But
tIlt JDIS Olltl hOllS nv VI iiNi''9
for speculation, for it has not yet found
place on any map and its only high
roads are the half-obliterated trails left
by the Utes when they unwillingly de-
parted for new hunting-grounds.
"You remember the LSg horn | shot
after Jack and the guides had tracked
him for ten days over the Rattlesnake
range in Wyoming?" Mrs. Jack contin-
ues, plaintively.
The society remembers the big horn,
as well as the giant shark in the MeXi-
can gulf; the mountain lion and the
cinnamon bear with amber eyes picked
off by Mrs. Jacks rifle in the San Fran
cisquito mountains. The idea of her
not daring to look tiger in the face
under any circumstances taxes the
creduIity of the society. Has she ever
known fear, ever quailed before beast,
bird or fish-this modern Artemis?
When she accompanies her husband
on his hunting expeditions she wears
the woods autumn livery-leaf-brow
and scarlet-an abbreviated skirt and
leggings of brown corduroy, a scarlet
iedtneT SHII WIFI tlhS leeIn lor JUL
tons, hat festooned with trout and
salmon flies and shining leaders. A car
fridge belt girdles her slender waist,
with its depending revolver and hunt
ing knife.
1t is remarkable that Mrs. Jack has
escaped the cinnamon bears embrace,
and Bruin might well be pardoned such
an indiscretion.
Jack has always said that my phys
ical courage first attracted him. But
l had never confessed to him that there
was one big test to which | should be