The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1896-04-30

expected. IOlly eyes 1alrlv DlaZed
as she turned to me, her previous re-
marks having been directed to the
sky, and declared IN an unsteady
voice: "You needn't say that. I don't
care whether she has you or not; I
| wouldn't marry you myself at any
price. You're perfectly free from
| me-"
She turned her head back again
quickly, but not SO quickly that did
not see the two tears which hung on
her eyelashes. Polly has such long,
pretty, curling eyelashes. She began
to pull madlyat her LETT glove. I knew
she wanted to throw my ring at me,
but her hand was warm and the glove
well fitting, so she couldn't get it off
before I had opened fire again
''Maria," I said, meditatively, to
the grass or the trees, or something
equally impersonal, "Maria is proud.
She would not allow q man to pay her
attentions while people still con-
nected his name with that Of another
girl
Polly was fairly raging. At the
time she and I had become engaged
her people had a great deal to say
about my ''outrageous firtation' with
Maria Jones, and I had been obliged
to do great deal of persuadlng in or
der to convince Polly that I had meant
nothing serious. Now, as I said, she
was fairly raging at this mention of
her tender point, and she Missed out,
whirling around IN her seat:
"Well, she can't allow you to pay
her attentions for some time to come
Besides--'
But here I interrupted her in my
turn; those tears were rolling down
her checks now, and L thought this
second quarrel had gone far enough !;
besides, | dind't want her to say any
thing more about having seen me
walking with Maria while I waited for
her, carrying the obnoxious parasol
which had prevented Polly from rec
ognizing us, and thus aroused her
wrath.
So I broke in:
81 don't want to pay her atten-
tions, you see. I'd rather pay them
! to you"
"Well. you will never have the
chance to do SO again." she snapped,
pretending to wipe the dust from her
face, but really stopping those tears
from falling, you shall never do the
least thing for me again"
"Not even carry your parasol?" I
asked, softly, and she grew angry
again.
"Go and carry Maria's parasol!''
she calculated, angrily; "she'li be
glad enough to have you, and I can
always find some one who wants to
wait on me-.
This was true enough, as we both
knew. She had me there. Some one
Yes, indeed, plenty of them! This
reflection sobered me little lin the
Joy Of getting the best of the quarrel
| was rather losing my head, and ]
said again, softly:
"But want to do things for you,
Polly"
"Well, you never will again." she
said, and now the tears were in hel
voice as we'll as her eyes. t'You shall
never do anything for me again
She spoke more sadly than angrily
now, and felt little sad myself
"Never, Polly?" remarked, gent
ly, noticing meanwhile that she wa
no longer struggling with her glove
"Never, Polly? Shall never bring
you flowers any more and never carry
your gloves while you pin the flower
at your waist? Shall I never tie your
veil for you after we have been at thu
lake together? Shall I never turl
over the music while you sing M
Sweetheart "
This was the song we both loved
and the mention affected Polly visibly
So l went on: "And shall I never lact
your gloves for you when we are go
ing to q party and wrap your lac
scarf closer around your head an
throat when We are coming back, an,
put on your rubbers-and-and kis
you, Polly?"
There were tears in my own eye
now, and Polly had given up all at
tempts at concealment and was sobbin
miserably. [ laid my hand on hers
she did not draw her own away.
gently squeezed her fingers; she di
the same, more family, to mine. The
[ took courage and leaned over to her
sliding along the seat in order to reacl
her, aad put my arm around her.
"Polly," I said, possessing myself O
her cobweb of q handkerchief, an
wiping away the tears which wer
making her eyes red. "Polly, let
make up"
"And will you say you're sorry ?
she whispered, burrowing her fac
into my coatsleeve, and [ answere
very quickly:
eyes," l said. 'I'll say I'm SORT
| if you will, Polly"
[ So neither of us actually said it an
ten minutes later, when we were sen
) sible again, the young lady remarke
in breath of fervor: 'Let's neve
quarrel any more. I'm sure," Writ
ously, 81 never want to quarrel wit
Won -