The Monitor-register., 1897-11-05
NANCY's TRIUMPH.

easily, and sighed. Then he took the
girls hand between his two thin ones
and pstted it softly.
"Well," he said feebly, "well ?"
Nancy's fiugers frightened over his.
II was thinking to-day, Uncle Charles,
OF something shat happened years ago, a
very foolish little incident, as far as
common sense is concerned, but rather
serious for the rats"
"The rats I! My dear girl what do you
means"
"1ll tell you. l was a very sensitive
child and things affected me deeply. One
day Richard and another boy caught two
rats in my fathers stables. l used to
see the traps set every night, for the rata
came after the corn, but l never knew II
they were caught or not. But that morn
ing | met Richard and his friend, each
with a Gagged victim, forcing its poor thin
nose through the wires"
What are you going to do ?" !
asked.
For the answer Richard whistled to q
TERROR. l guessed his meaning, and
fingiug myself on the ground, caught
the dog in my arms"
"'Oh, don't let him kill them = lin.
plored, the tears starting to my eyes.
"Richard laughed, and told me that
rats were vermin, and must bs destroyed.
All the time the little sharp faces were
peering at me with terror In their ewes.
and one rat gave a sharp squeak as
Richard poked it with a stick.
"The thought of their approaching
doom Mortified me; I flung myself into a
paroxsym of grief; I cried, l begged, l
half ohoked with sobbing, till my nurse
game out and told the boys they would
throw me into a fit, which they very
nearly did.
"And were the rats killed after all ?"
mo, l made such a fuss that at last
Richard said their lives should be spared,
and consoled me by promising to let them
gosseot free, as he expressed it, with
just enough tar on their backs to brighten
the other rats away from the place.
was assured that a coating of tar was
quite harmless and painless, so the
wretohed animals were let out, to be.
come a misery to themselves and a horror
to their fellow creatures. A few DAYS
alter they crawled into the open air to
die, and l found them. l, who had been
the innocent cause of their prolonged
wretchedness.
"They had better have been killed at
once." replied the old man; shut why do
you think of this today :"
"You may we'll ask, it is strange, and
perhaps silly, such a trivial incident, and
one that happened SO many, many years
ago. You see l was thinking of it in
connection with Richard. 1 little guessed
then that the boy would grow into SO
handsome and attractive man. that he
would win my heart, my love, that l
should be engaged to him-to Richard -
Sand you are happy ?"
"No."
The girl drew away her hand and
brushed something very like a tear from
her eye.
"Itis the old story of the rats over
again. only | am the rat at this time. He
wouldn't kill me outright, SO he tarred
ne7'assaAar tAA.TIERsy die BY slow de-
grees.N TShf-n5s talking or Ine rdeath Of
the body, but the .dsath of every tender
6aalasszasn9tfia t makes for happiness,
iaslReacel 1t is cruel to kill, SO Richard
vii not tell me the truth. He cannot
bring himself to say, Il am tired of my
role Of lover; 1 am tired of YOU"
HE would rather prevarieate. ana let
me discover myself deserted by degrees,
like those poor loathsome animals. Then,
st last, l o shall ,.eome out into the
open ard die, but Richard WiH not be re-
sponsible-not Richard, but the tar from
his brush p
Nancy spoke quickly, bitterly. Her
uncle sat up, letting the cushion fall to the
ground, and, despite the look of i'll
health on his features. a slight flush gave
him the momentary semblance of a
strong man. He loved his niece dearly.
and her words angered him against
Richard.
"1t can't be true" he said, excitedly.
"You are Mistaken Nan. No man could
be such a cur-he rclst lose you"
She shook yer head despondently.
when we were first engaged" she
replied, 81 told Rlehard that 1 was a
penniless orphan living upon your
charity, but he did not dare. He used to
say he was glad 1 was poor, 80 that he
could work for me- We would plan all
sorts of little ecopomies; the thought of
poverty had no fears for either of us.
Then, after We had been engaged some
months, I noticed aSgfaduaf change.
Richard spoke of small houses by the un-
poetical term of spig,holes.'n
HE talked more of his ambition and
less of love. He seemed self.absorbed,
and occasionally lost his temper. This l
bore uncomplainingly, with the hundred
tender excuses that a foolish woman can
make for the man she idealizes. But
when he spoke of our affection as "a
dream of unsubstantial delight from
which "a rude and practical sense of
worldly wisdom must soon awaken us,
then I first began to doubt his sincerity,
to see that he was seek ing an excuse"
HE would draw hor rible pictures of
poverty, and the misery of marriage un
less means were ample, declaring that
the thought of dragging m down was
weighing on his mind. He would ques.
ton his W responsibility in this matter
and try his best to persuade me that the
step we contemplated was q fatal and de-.
grading lie. But l made no reply. 1
could not. I was too dumb, too frozen.
But now l have had time to think 1t out,
and I see that his love for me was only q
passing fancy, and that we could never
be happy together. He cares too much
for money and for the fat things of life."
"Then," cried her uncle, still with the
red flush standing out on his cheeks, che
is not worthy of you, and the sooner you
break with him the better"
"a broken engagement is always a
slur on a GIRL" replied Nancy, "but that
is only a little of the tar that kills; it
annot hold weight with broken illu-
sions and outraged faith"
"My poor little girl | My poor Nancy %
he said.