Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1896-10-10
TOO RIDICULOUS.
By s. Barring GOULD.
Copyright. 1851

Copyright, 1851
''It was clean too ridiculous" as the
Scotchman said when his wife died aft
er he had lost five children in rapid sue,
cession through scarlet fever.
But it was clean too ridiculous on
quite another count. You shall hear my
story, which is fact, and "clean too
ridiculous" to be other than fact. I can
tell it of myself and laugh over it be-
cause it has all turned out so we'll If
it had turned out clean contrary, you
would have heard nothing about it. So
now, without further preface, to my
story.
It all took place before railway ran
to Suuabham. It was in the time when
the terminus was at Stoke, just 10
miles off, and the arterial blood of traf-
fic in the country flowed through
coaches.
As constituents Of that rich arterial
tide, one day I sat on the top Of the
coach, not in the box seat, but just be-
hind the driver, and near me sat very
charming young lady.
I believe that lived before my time.
Imean to say that I had tastes for those
things which have since come into fash.
ion, but which were then looked down
on. For instance, had great predi-
lection for red hair. At that epoch in
modern history Of which I write red
hair provoked contemptuous comment
Of carrots. Since preraphaelite art has
come in the popular taste has changed,
and red hair is admired. Those ladies
who have parsnip hair will lavish pounds
in hair dye and wash and powder to
transform the parsnip crop on their
heads into field Of carrots. In the mid
die ages great deal of money was
wasted by alchemists in attempting to
transmute metals. They could never
succeed in converting lead into silver
or copper into gold, but our modern hair
dressers can permeate women 's-aye,
and men's-heads into what they like.
They can dye as the ravens plume,
bronze, gold, copper, silver, as you like,
and change metals as often as you like.
Now, the dear, sweet creature who
sat by me had the most gorgeous auburn
hair conceivable; the sun-and the
evening SUN gilded the coach as we rolled
over the downs-shone on her, and it
literally blazed in this girls hair. The
modern halfpenny postage stamp Was
nothing to it. We talked And as we
talked I looked at her lovely complex
ion. What compilations those redheaded
sirens havel She had blue eyes, was
animated and very agreeable. She sat
between me and the outside bar. I was
sandwiched between ladies-on my left
sat another girl, with brown hair and
hazel eyes. Usually in such thing as
Banbury cake the jam is between two
slabs Of sponge bread, but here the case
was reversed. I was the sponge bread
with two sorts of jam laid on, one on
each side of me. But, to tell you the
truth, did not observe much my brown
beauty on the left, so engrossed was l
in the red beauty on my right. The rea-
son-or one Of the reasons-was that
the setting sun or sun in process of de-
clension was to my left. e., in the
west-and so blazed into my eyes when
I turned my head to the left that the
brown head Of my lovely companion on
that side appeared only as spot in the
sun, whereas the full glory Of his rays
spent itself in gliding the refined gold
of the red beauty on my right.
We talked, of what cannot now
recollect, but know that the red beauty
talked charmingly, interested me in
tensely, and that she made the moments
fly as we sped over the downs to Stoke.
never in all my life spent such an en-
joyable hour and half It went as
streak Of lightning.
When we dismounted at the coach
Office in the main street Of Stoke, Isought
an inn and engaged room. Business
was likely to detain me there some days.
I could not sleep that night. There was
no night in my room or in the entire
hotel. The red headl The gorgeous blaze
of that lovely girls hair to my heated
fancy filed it with light.
Next day with fevered tongue went
to the coach Office and found the coach
man there about to start on the return
journey to Squabham.
"My dear fellow" said 1, pressing
half crown into his hand-that was
before florins came in, or florin would
have done-"who was that charming
young lady who sat by me on the coach
yesterday?"
"That, sir, was Miss Smith. She has
come in for some shopping. Her mar
ried sister lives in Stoke, and she goes
back to Squabham tomorrow.
"Thank you a thousand times"
said. "Whom does she live with at
home? Her father-what is he?"
''Her father is dead. She is the sister
Of solicitor there, Mr.. John Smith,
clerk of the justices.
"Thank you ten thousand times" /
said, and resolved to return with the
coach next day and swim to Squabham
in an ocean Of ecstasy by the side of
Miss Smith.
But inexorable business detained me.
I could not get away for four days. The
moment my time was at my disposal l
engaged a seat on the box for SQUAD
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