The Weiser signal. [volume] (Weiser, Idaho) 1890-1904, 1897-08-05

81 AN NOT AN OLD MAID YET, PAPA
and signs "Thirty-Wcn, suppose
an old maid is useful in family"
l laugh. 81 am not an old maid yet,
papa
"No?"
His mild intcrrogative tone is certain
~ provoking: my own tone has some
thing. | admit, of spinster-like sharp
ness as | reply.
81 feel quite as young as | desire to
feel"
"That is satisfactory. 1t is not every
one who at thirty still feels herself ia
he an ornament in the matrimonial
market"
] turn away silently; but my silence
serves no purpose.
SAN ornamcnt-but relocated to the
shelf continues my step father in a
musing tone, with contcmplative
smile.
age has, at all events, its advan.
tages, papa. Sarcasms at thirty fail to
touch onc.n
He Processes not to hear me. "As far
as can see, my dear, Barnet seems to
AN"N' gVN u gItct llltL shell
have carried the pinaforc am MAX
ing to g distant window. /, too, profess
to be deaf to the words which l will not
hear.
Let me give you credit for one vir-
tue" tho smooth voice continues. "You
are patient You have smiled on Barnet
for thirteen years. and still are unwill-
ing to regard the task as hopcless!'
/ have said that sarcasms no longer
have the power to hurt me; but the
boast is vain. In spite of my thirty
years | turn away now with burning
checks, with childish anger and with
tears springing to my eyes.
take my work into the garden. The
garden is quiet, for the children are in
the schOOl-rOOm ut their lessons and my
own sisters are all married and gone.
The lawn is closely shaven, smooth as
silk; the boX-bordcrs trim as ever; the
beds are guiltlcss of weed. | take
tho path which nine years ago took
with Alice and | stop now as | stopped
then at the little rustic summcr-house
beside tho pathway. lean in muslng,
pcnsivc mood against tho framework of
the entrance and look abscntly before
me at The dancing branches wet with
rain, at Che moving patches of light and
shadow that the branches cast upon the
path, at the lilics-of the-valley beneath
tho wall, at the bed where by and by the
sweet peas win blossom.
The sweet peas were blossominr on
that morning, nine years ago, when Ned
and ! stood here together. My thoughts
travel slowly back across those nine
years, recall their history, and slowly
return to dwell upon the present-the
joys and sorrows OF to-day.
MANY happy returns of the day to
you"
start and turn my head. Round the
path behind the summcr-housc Ned had
como suddenly upon me, he stands close
b, side me. holds ont his right hand and
smiles in calm, friendly, unembarrassed
fashion.
Thank YOU. You remember my
birthday, thcn?"
Yes. My memory is very good, you
know. II is part of my equipment as a
scientist"
Ned stands. as he stood nine years
ago, in the doorway facing me. Nine
years have aged aim lie is nearly
forty; his thick heir is turning little
gray. his short. bushy heard IS sprinkled
with gray threads here and there. his
frank ryrs seem TO have rcccdcd further
beneath the grave. thoughtful brows,
his figure has grown more square, more
set; the truth must be told, he looks
middic-agcdi
He looks gravciy and quietly at me.
His manner this morning is very differ
cnt from his manner on that f,r-awav
morning Of nine years ago. Now there
is no suggestion of lovo-making. Ills
voice takes no tender modulations. his
glance docs not linger long with soft
meaning on my face. am thirty; he is
approaching forty-we are grown pro-
saicl
Prosaic?-a are we? can not sneak
for him; hut can speak for myself
Nine years ago my heart never ached so
badly, never beat SO quickly. as il aches
and heats today. | stand in quiet
pose. my hands loosely claspcd before
mo, and perhaps look as calm as he.
but the calmmess is surface deep-no
more.
We stand and chat quietly about
many things. For the last few weeks
hc has been from home; and he asks me
about the small events that have hap
pencd in his absence; and ask him
about the visit he has paid
.! am not sorry to get back again. "he
says; but he says it in that sober, mat
ter-of-fact tone which admits OF no flat
tering personal interpretations.
"Xou are tired at last of 'travcling?"
Not Of traye'ing-but of country
lgusa visits " D.. ,.,,1f,e nth .