The Press., 1898-01-06
THE REASON WHY.

"I always wonder why it is you have never married, Dick?''
 It 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 be all answer. Dick is five and forty, tall, TO bust, with a rather handsome face and horid complexion, and with bright gold en brown hair, but just where it makes little crinkles above his ears it has tiny silver threads running through it-an even race now between the gold and silver, but in these days of bimetallism who shall answer for the future?
 He is a 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 service able, clean idea. Dicks grasp, firm and strong, would always purge it of any vice or vulgarity it might have possess ed before. He now sits quite alone in house. He smokes a pipe and thinks over that sisters question, "I always wonder why it is you have never mar ried, Dick?'
 Then a curious thing happens. A. the smoke of his pipe rises up in thick black clouds he looks quite through it back to the year 1867 and sees himself again as boy of 20, just before he first sailed for India-such a jovial, noisy sort of boy, with a ready smile and pleasant word for every one, just now much excited at the prospect of the new life which is to begin with the voyage tomorrow.
 He is just entering ballroom with friend of about his own age. CJack Dufford, who died in China, |" murmurs Dick of today.) It is a very large ball room, brilliantly lighted and decorated with flowers and evergreens It must be a regimental ball, for there are col ors stacked at one end. Dick of today tries to make them out, but quite fails, and so turns his attention to what Jack Dufford is saying to Dick of 1867.
 'I want you to dance with my little sister Kitty. It is her first dance, and she's the dearest little thing going. :" And he puts his arm through Dick ot 1867's and takes him across the room to where there stands girl in white muslin, such dainty, fresh white mus lin, with little blue bowknots dotted over it, and this is all that Dick of 1867 sees as he makes his bow, but when he raises his head again he meets such a 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 when he puts his arm around her and they dance and he looks down into the hair he sees a wee wreath of blue for getmenots half lost and very tightly imprisoned ill its glittering meshes. It is almost Dick of 1867's first ball, too, and he thoroughly enjoys it, but none of the figures are plain to Dick of today save only the white muslin and blue bowknot one Talking and dancing with it seem to fill up the whole even ing, and then, when the end comes, Dick of 1867 rolls it up, oh, so tenderly, in a warm, white shawl, and Dick of today feels his heart be It quicker as little hand is put into that old Dicks hand and low girlish voice says:
 "Well, good night and goodby, MT. Kenneth. hope you will like India. '' Then Dick of 1867 goes home, and he feels nervously excited and cannot sleeI and thinks it must be from the uncer tainty of liking India.
 The tobacco smoke clears off and oul Dick wonders why Such an old unite