The Forrest City times. [volume] (Forrest City, Ark.) 1871-1919, 1897-10-15
SEEN THROUGH~
1.-THE SMOKE.
II ALWAYS wonder why it is you
have never married, Dick ?"

ALNAfo wonder why 1t is you
have never married, Dick?"
1t was Emily who had said these words
some half an hour ago, and Dick had
found no answer for them; and he
sits by the fire and ponders over them
nightly, trying to find if there is an
answer. Dick is five-and-forty, tall, ro-
bust, with rather handsome face and
fiorid complexion, and with bright gold
en- brown hair; but just where it makes
little crinkles above his ears il has tiny
silver threads running through it. An
even race now between the gold and sill
yer; but in these days of bimetailism
who shall answer for the future?
He is very personable man, a true,
honest, good fellow, rather slow at
grasping an idea; but when he has
grasped it, it is sure to become a serv-
iceable, clean idea. Dicks grasp firm
and strong, would always purge it Of
any vice or yulgarity it might have
possessed before. He now sits quite
alone in the comfortable library of his
sisters house. He smokes a pipe, and
thinks over that sisters question: II
always wonder why it is you have never
married, Dick"
Then a curious thing happens. As
the smoke of ais pipe rises up in thick
black clouds, he looks quite through
it back 10 the year 1867, and sees him
self again as boy of 20, just before he
first sails for India; such a jovial. noisy
sort of boy, with a ready smile and
pleasant word for everyone, just now
much excited at the prospect of the
new life which IS 20 begin ~iss ,he yoy-
age tomorrow.
He is just entering a ballroom with a
friend of about his own age. c'Lack
Dufford, who died in China" murmurs
Dick of to-day.) 1t is a very large ball
room, brilliantly lighted, and decorated
with flowers and evergreens. 1t must
be a regimental ball, for there are col
ors stacked at one end. Dick of to-day
tries to make them out, but quite fails,
and so turns his attention TO what
Jack Dufford is saying to Dick of '67.
II want you to dance with my little
sitter Kitty. 1t is her first dance, and
she's the dearest little thing going"
and he puts his arm through Dick of
'67's and takes him across the room to
where there stands a girl in white
muslin, such dainty, fresh white mus
lin, with little blue bowknots dotted
over it, and this is all that Dick of 81
sees as he makes his bow; but when he
raises his head again, he meets such
sweet, dancing pair of brown eyes look
ing at him from such a pretty bright
face, with a whole mass of light fluffy
hair above and around it; and. later,
they dance, and he looks down into the
hair, he sees wee wreath of blue for
get-me-knots half lost and very tightly
imprisoned in its glittering meshes. 1t
is almost Dick of '67's first ball, too. and
he thoroughly enjoys it, but none of the
figures are plain to Dick of to-day save
only the white muslin and blue bow
knot one; talking and dancing with it
seem to fill up the whole evening, and
then, when the end comes. Dick of '67
rolls il up, o, so tenderly in a warm,
white shawl, and Dick of to-day feels
his heart beat quicker as little hand
is put into that old Dicks hand. and
low girlish voice says:
"Well, goodnight and good-by, Mr..
Kenneth; / hope you will like India"
Then Dick of '67 goes home. and he
feels nervously excited and cannot
sleep. and thinks il must be from the
uncertainty of liking India.
The tobacco smoke clears off, and
our Dick wonders why such an old,
quite buried memory should revive to-