The Monmouth inquirer., 1897-08-05
WARNED IN VAIN.

Aunt Jerusha had never seen nor
heard Of the above, so she flung up the
window and popped out her head with
the grace and spring of mechanical
toy.
Laws! Mercy sakesi Waal, I never
in all my lifei If that dom beat the
Dutchl'
near the window she had so unceremo-
niously flung upwas handsome young
man-an artist, in fact-who had come
to Seedville to sketch. He took no trou-
bic to explain himself to its villagers,
but dropped as simply as possible into
the simplicity of its life.
Mrs. Spearmint, /" he said mildly.
if you will close that window my
buckwheats and sausage will be much
warmer
s'Oh, but sakes aliver' she responded.
Do look quick and never mind your
buckwheats. Amt that the curioustest
thing you ever did see in all your born
days-and there aim t the shadder of a
horse to it. y
Villas Stansfield grew interested. He
tore himself from his buckwheats and
projected his head from the window,
staring down the narrow by street on
which Aunt Jerusha lived with the
true Seedville stare.
Caesars ghostr'
"Whatl Be it ghost?" asked Aunt
Jerusha, yanking in her head and look
ing keenly at him, as if one or the 9TH
er of them might be growing crazy.
II might have known that no one but
Miss Waterloo would have ventured in
to this region with an automobile til
bury. That bridge will never hold her.
And seizing his hat, he rushed out Of
the house and down the narrow elm
shaded street after the horseless carriage.
Whatever has struck that manp"
cried Aunt Jerusha, bringing down the
window with a bang, now that the show
was out of sight. "What did he call it?
Waterloo, was it? Wait till go tell Su-
san Sparrerhawk I've seen waterloo,
and she hurried next door with this
Wellingtonian or Napoleonic piece of
news
The news affected the Sparrerhawks
as it had Aunt Jerusha. They threw up
the window and elected their heads,
but with no satisfactory result. Sam
caught up his hat and rushed down the
street after Mr. Villas Stanfield, who
sprang along in the wake of the auto
mobile tilbury at college acquired gait.
1t was very choice vehicle, enamel
ed in dark green and upholstered in
russet leather. In the middle of the
seat, dressed in dark green and russet,
to match the tilbury, was very young
woman maneuvering the motor as If
her only desire was to keep her turnout
at the top of it's speed.
Villas Stanfield could not overtake it.
He called. He flung pebbles at it. He
whistled It splashed through the pud-
dies and bumped over the inequalities
of the village byroad as if nothing
would be allowed to stop it. In mo-
ment it would be upon a bridge, a
crumbling bit of antique architecture
that Seedville had chung to as foot
way long after they knew it was unable
to hold even the Doctors chaise Re-
cent heavy rains had now all but wash
ed away its supports. The automobile
li1bury was as surely headed for an ac-
cident as any whirring express with a
bowlder on the tracks. He turned white
and whistled again, this time the tune
he and she had sung in duet. as with
this same horseless tilbury they had
rolled along the hard, broad roads in
southwest England.
She still whirled on.
He put his fingers to his lips and in
creased the strength of the whistle.
She stopped, the wheels of her car
riage on the very edge of the decrepit
bridge-turning white, too, but not be-
cause of the danger.
s'Mr. Stanfeld, she said severely as
he came up, may I ask what this
means?''
Certainly. he said, touching his
hat. "You can't cross that bridge. It's
not safe even for foot passengers. I saw
you from my boarding house window,
and I came to tell you.
VERY kind. I'm sure, she said.
with little toss of her russet feathers.
'.but I've no wish to have you save my
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