The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1897-07-25

when Moore said goodbye at the 1a4AcS
gates The huge bay lay asleep, bathed
in the deep blue of shadow outlined oy
the thousand lights which blazed on the
margin of It's semi-circle from Banks
Howe TO Douglas Head. A glare OF cleo
| tricity revealed the balconied tower OF
| Moore's hotel on Onchan Point. Below the
| red and blue and yellow of divers iIlum
nations scintiated on the glass roof OF
/ Derby castle while midway upon the
/ cliffs dark nights, above the richly WOOD
/ ed Castle Mona hotel, once the 4ordIy
/ home of the Dukes of Athol. the white
/ turrets of the pavilion Of Falcon GIN
loOmed like two Dhosphorescent 2hosts
! against the dark gray Of sky Now and
| then with rhythmical regularity. the re
| Volving signal from the harbOr light
/ house flashed out and lit up the dark
| rocks of the Tower Of Refuge and the hsh-
! ing smacks at anchor
The air was heavy with the odor OF
! brine. From the promenade came the hum
! of revelry and the tread of many people
passing on their way, the tinkle Of tram
| cars as they shot by in endless succession.
The world of Douglas was here still at
| the zenith OF its life.
Il have been to many places and seen
many thiugs' Moore said, as he fingered
10 wrap Margerys cloak over her white
bodice but to-day you have given me
for memories what / can never forget
There was in his voice a deeper mean
Margery's answer came with pretty COM
Dunctive shyness.
And still and for all this is not Manx."
was what she said, and l think like
our world best"
"Ahr broke in Kaneen, you must come
TO Peel, man; We'll give you the real at
mosphere there"
Il will come" said Moore warmly, as
he stepped on TO a passing car.
CHAPTER III.
list no true, Margery Ever sin Moore
cam"
Hugh How dare your"
Il dinna daur" said poor Hugh.
Then there was silence Margery, in her
white gown with her sketching box in her
hands, blushing indignant; Hugh, in his
| farmers corduroy and CATERS, calm, but
pale through pain.
1t was the month of September, and the
cornfields of Banaslieu lay ripening around
them. The afternoon sun was hot Sky
and sea met in a blue deep as the Medi-
terranean. For here, from the vantage
ground of the knoll where fencing separ-
ated the grain land from the pasture,
could be seen the sea breaking the line
of horizon fanked by the dark outline of
Contrary Head The man and the girl
stood still; one on either side of the stle;
she bound seward he for home.
And in that moment Of stormy silence
the minds of both were busy. Margery
was remembering Moore was on Peel Hill
now, expecting her, ever ready as he had
been for these last three wonderful weeks
to claim her companionship in his sketch
ing tours; to pay more attention to her
facile brush than to his own. She was
thinking how great a thing it was, this
wolrd-renowned painter should take inter-
est in the efforts of a simple school girl;
and here was this big Hugh, who knew
nothing whatever of art and it's fascina-
scended to devote his valuable time to her
instruction.!
And Hugh?
He was recalling a laughing Margery
of ten summers, with floating flaxen locks.
He saw the harvest CLEANED, all save a
handful of sheaves. He watched that lit
tie maid step proudly forward, and with
one chubby hand grasping the corn, the
other the uplifted sickle. she swept the last
ear to the ground. Then Hugh tied up the
precious sheaf with ribbon from Margery's
hair, and together they carried it home
to treasure it till the following year. All!
those days had indeed gone since he had
played with her at the beautiful old cere-
mony of the taking of the Melliah when
he was called upon to elect her queen; for
this small ManX maiden was imperious in
her demands upon the time of her big kins-
man, and greatly given to instruct him in
the mysteries and customs of her native
|
the subtitle charm of bygone time and Mar
gerry alas, no more was his alone to call
his queen. culver passed over Hughs
! strong face as he thought of these things;
a CULVER which touched Margery's heart
| for after ALL there was but one Hugh in
| her world. So 1t was she who broke the
silence, though it was only to reproach
him.
You dare to be Jealous of great man
! like Gilbert Moore?"
"Ay-Im jealousr said Hugh, with emo
tional irony in his tones. we've said it,
| Margery; l wanda haze daured say the
| ward myself"
HE helps me with my colors; you know
| nothing of painting, you don't under
standr said she haughtily
"Oh, / ken naething O. paintin', but
| understan' ae thing it's no for it Gilbert
Moore's aye at yer beck an ca. Whaur' $
1t gaun tae end Margery?"
She blushed.
where's what going to end?"
His comm between We an me-" was
! Hughs bold reply. Gin We like tae tell
me We loe him, I'll no say anither
| ward"
Let me pass" said Margery, with fine
scorn.
"Oh. I'll let We pass! But it's best tae
be aft wi the auld luv before ye are on wi
| the newt"
I'm have nothing more to do with you :"
said she, one foot on the stile.
ITS no likely" assented Hugh. putting
out his hands nevertheless TO help her
| across.
" 'Ite so In this world for I'm in love
With a maiden Of high degree
But I am only marked one-and-nine,
And the other chaps two-and-three.
And girl never looks at one-and nine
With a possible two-and-three'
lie mimicked, with a touch of trite sar-
casm, the concluding verse Of comic
| song. then the rage az the music halls.
which Moore had rendered with dramatic
humor at Margery's piano the evening be-
fore.
1t was the sad lament OF the toy colonel
In the Lowthor Arcade who rode on his
| tin Eec-gce.
I've been on this stall very long time.
And I'm marked one-and-nine. as YOU see.
| While just on the shelf above my head.
There's a fellow marked two-and-three."
but, Worst Of all his sweetheart.
The dear little dolly-glrl over there"
| had transferred her affections