The times., 1898-11-20
do T look like ber,"

1
| am thirty and something dreadful over.
but the little old man, in spite of his
| brace of blows was wise enough to save
| the situation. He looked at me approx
| ingly-Observe, 1t was dusk-and said
| with u courtly politeness that would
| have done credit to a Chesterfield: You
| are quite as nice as any lady l have ever
| talked to in the parks abroad" Compti-
| ments are always acceptable-especially
| when you don't get many of them-and
| showed my appreciation by throttlng my
desire to know about Anne. To have
| gone on listening to the poor little gen.
| tieman would have been as contemplate
| as pumping family affairs from a chi d.
so | thanked him. wished him pleasant
| journey and was turning away when he
1 pulled me by the unhappy gathers his
| pin had helped to restore.
John has forgotten, but l think of her
| all the time" he persisted Il hate in
| quired after her in all the parks of Eu-
| rope and | am sure to find her some time.
Do you know anybody by the name of
AEne. my dear?''
l should say so.
at Is very contemplate little name.
| You can pick up Annes in this city like
| you pick up pebbles on the seashore, by
| the pints. pecks and bushels. and when
| you've got them they are no account.
Why I'm named Anne my own self
He was so delighted, so childishly. tu-
| muituously glad that 1 didn't mind in the
| least-In fact. i felt safer-when he let
90 of nay gathers and caught hold Of my
arm.
And was it you who helped my dear
boy out of prison-oh. dear; oh. dear;
oh, dear
BY that time he had worked himself in
81 nd f-.bi
with a view to what passers-by might
think of the pair OF US. L had TO put
relentless stop to his emotions, but. re-
membering the pink and silver head. with
its rift of scar. L did 1t as gently as /
could.
Indeed, sir, you are wasting your graf
itude. / never helped anybody out of
penitentiary any more than l never help
| ed anybody in; STILL If you would like to
tell me about that other Anne"
He did like. being, indeed, such a mer-
curiai old gentleman that his eyes. which
had clouded over at my denial. fairly
sparkled with pleasure at the story he
was only too eager to tell.
You see. they couldn't hang my John.
because he didn't kill me. so they put
| him in prison for twenty years. Well.
| he hadn't been there more than a year
| when party OF visitors came
with a pass to the warden 70 show them
| through. and in that party was Anne
| When they came to the cobbler shops
where my JOhn-my dear. dear boy
mind-was making shoes. Anne stopped
to watch his work after the others went
| on-that dear. dear. girl"
| We'll. don't see anything emaria b. )
| noble In watching a person make shoes
l am capable OF that much herolsm my
| SELF
"oh. but Il Vas the notebook that aid
IT. She took Il out % her pocket 10 write
Johns name. and he wanted u 50. b.
cause he had no paper and pencil there.
you know. that he begged il from her.
iand gave her pair % t1y SHOES IN ex-
change. The only maine On the Notebook
was Anne Wen. after John had waited
| days and days he gul q chance 10 steal
a note 20 some other Eeuticmeu--in fhe
other cells. you se--aud they made plans
TO escape.
After that, the first thing know there
was John with his arms around me b. <.
ging me 20 f0rsive him ard swearing II
wasn't him that hit me. OF course AZ
wasn't. but the government was too stu
pid to believe him like ! did. 50 he had
to run away and We have been running
away ever since. I have got money
enough TO buy the biggest park In Europe
and that is how We can travel an ths
time John says he can't stay at home
and no more can /. because there are No
parks there, and besides that / am get
ting SO very queer that I keep thinking
Ii was Johns face / saw in the glass
over the mantel the night / was struck
and it grieves him so. though he knows,
and l-i-aimOst know that it is Just my
queerness. And just think. my dear, If it
had not been for Anne | might have died
h.Iss T.,l.,,
have stayed in prison every day OF TWEEN
ty years"
The dear old soul had tears in his eyes,
by that time, but, all at once the troub G
died out of them and a flash of delight
took IT'S place as he broke off in the midst
of his story to cry out:
Here he is. Here's my boy-coming
round that bend-there's my John, God
bless him. come to take his father
| home
Yes. l saw him. A biggish, middle
aged man. in gray clothes and a black
beard swinging along as if he owned the
| earth and smoking a cigar. And while
| my little old man waved to him and
fairly quivered with happy anticipation,
| ! slipped round another bend and was
hidden in its dusky shadows before he
| knew | was done.
The dusk had biackened into midnight
before l turned on the gas in my room.
II is a big. airy back room, with two
glorious windows. that overlook the Cap
itol and its everlasting green. There are
always irresponsible breezes flying
| around that Capitol. and l get enough
of them to keep my curtains fluttering
like banners. and to send my japanese
fans. photographs and general gim-cracks
sailing over the floor. However, / can
| stand it. as long as the gim-cracks can.
| 50 that when the gas fiared up I was not
surprised to fnd my household gods ev-
erywhere but in the place where they be-
longed. 1 was going round restoring
wrecks with my usual philosophy when
tread upon something, and stopped 10
pick it up.
1t was only a tiny red morocco slipper
l stick my thimble in-one of those use
less trifles that women keep years and
years, long after they have forgotten the
giyer.
The giyer!
He flashed before my mind with the
vivid distinctness OF a coIored biogranh-
u black-haired. desperate-faced young
fellow in prison stripes sitting at bench
| pegging shoes.
There is no doubt about my being Anne
but-was that other John2
MAMIE LANCASTER.
ENGLISH SUBURBAN HOMES.