Hopkinsville Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1889-1918, 1896-06-16

hAo Illus V1ClIS dlQ Dedru,
The master painter, to whom she
made the remark looked doubtful,
but smiled weakly.
''Now, that last house." continued
Mrs. Strephon; what color or shade
is that2 1t isn't elephants breath,
or frost grape purple, or any of those
shades, know; but l can't say what
it is"
Swell M" said the painter, you
see, that is a shade of my own. l
mixed all the body colors I had left
over from the other seven houses an
put in a little of the trimmings to
give it character, an just slapped it
on" He looked at Mrs. Strephon
hopefully.
II see," replied that lady. Il
see-its sort of self trimmed color,
isn't it2"
The painter coughed depreca-
tingly.
That's it exactly M" he said.
Mrs. Strephon never told the oc-
cupants OF the eighth house about
this; she felt for them too much.
Now, those who have lived in the
country and have had their houses
painted will remember that the first
thing the painters do is to remove
all the blinds and stack them up
over the new shrubs on the front
lawn; that the next thing they do is
to paint the front steps, so that all
the callers have to enter through
the kitchen; and that the last thing
they do is to put the blinds back. So
they did with the house that
Strephon and Phyllis had. It was
while the blinds were off that Mrs.
Strephon had a bad quarter of an
hour-only she said that it was
nearly two hours. But that's as
may be-
One afternoon, all the servants be-
ing on the lower floors, Mrs.
Strephon prepared to make calls,
and to make them properly prepared
to array herself. Being in her pet
ticoat, she ran into the next room
and into the closet to getsomething.
AS she entered the closet she heard
a noise at the window, but not until
she started to return to her room
did she learn what had caused the
noise. The painters had moved along
in their leisurely manner, and now
in front Of each of the three win
dows OF the room one of them was
perched, painting calmly and
placidly.
Mrs Strephon retired into the
depths of the closet and wept with
rage. When she felt better she
looked out cautiously, but the men
were still in front of the windows.
She had made herself as comfortable
as she could and waited every now
and then peering out to see if they
had gone
Finally Strephon came home, early.
''Phyllisr' he called, and ray OF
hope entered her despairing breast.
''Herer she cried in answer, but
not very loudly, for she didn't want
the painters to hear. They didn't
and neither did Strephon.
So Strephon, getting no answer,
went out bicycling alone, and when
he came back found very quiet,
dignifed wife, who, however, dis
solved into tears on slight provoca-
ton, and confided her woes to him.
81 hoped you'd come up stairs,
she said, but when you didn't, I
felt like the prisoner of Chillon, or
like Dr. Manette in the Bastile, or
like that horrid man in Dante who
ate his own children. in prison-you
know him; I've forgotten his
name -"
Bernardo del Carpio," suggested
Strephon.
Phyllis looked at him suspiciously,
but continued:
II don't know how long I waited.
/ think I must have fallen asleep.
BY and by woke up and looked out;
the painters had gonel Then I
waited to verify that, as you say,
and then, when thought they must
really have gone, Just rushed in
here and cried with Joy. l felt like
] don't know what-the Ancient
Mariner when he found himself on
Robinson Crusoe's island, guess.
"Strephon," concluded Phyllis,
solemnly, you won't let those peo-
pie paint this house again for another
eight years, will you?"-N. Y Sun.
Disunion in the Church.