The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1898-01-13
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THE BLUE DRYAD.
BY G. II. pouell.
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CTOFFLES was her name, q familiar
y abbreviation, and Mephistophelean
was her nature. She had all the usual
vices of the feline tribe, including
double portion of those which men are
so fond of describing as feminine. Vain,
indolent, selfish, with highly-culti-
waited taste for luxury and neatness in
her personal appearance, she was dis
tinguished by all those little irritat-
ing habits and traits for which nothing
but an effeminatc heart-a thing in
her case conspicuous by its absence
can atone.
| We live in a comfortable, old-fash-
ioned house facing the highroad. Isay
we. but i'll fact for some months I had
been alone, and my husband had just
returned from one of his sporting and
scientific expeditions in South Amer
lea. He had already won fame as a
naturalist, and had succeeded in bring
ing home alive quite a variety of beasts,
usually of the reptile order, whose ex-
treme rarity seemed to me merciful
provision of nature. But all his pre-
vious triumphs were completely
eclipsed, soon learned, by the capture
alive, on this last expedition, of an
abomnably poisonous snake, known to
those who knew it as the blue dryad,
or more familiarly, in backwoods slang,
as the 'half-hour striker" in vague ref
erence to its malignant and fatal quail
tiles
Being in extremely delicate health at
The time, l need hardly say that knew
nothing of these grewsome details un-
til afterward. Henry (that is my hus-
bandD after entering my room with
robust and sunburncd appearance that
did my heart good, merely Observed
as soon as we had exchanged greeting
that he had brought home pretty
snake which wouldn't do the slightest
harm'-an evasive assurance which lac
cepted as became nervous wife Of an
enthusiastic naturalist. I believe
insisted on its not coming into the
house. Fortunately the weather was
very hot, so it was decided that the
blue dryad, wrapped in flannel and
securely confined in a basket, should be
left in the sun and the furthest cor
ner of the veranda, during the hour or
SO i'll the afternoon when my husband
had to visit the town on business.
He had gone off with a cousin of
mine, an officer of engineers in India,
stationed, | think, at Lahore, and home
on leave. l remember that they were
long time, or what seemed to me
long time, over their luncheon; and
the last remark of our guest as he came
out of the dining-room remained in
my head as even meaningless words
will run in the head of an idle invalid
smut up for the most part of the day
in silent room. What he said was,
IN the positive tone of one emphasizing
curious and surprising statement:
Dyou know, by the way, it's the one
animal that doesn't care rap for the
cobra"' And then, my husband SEEM
ing to express disbelief and desire to
ehange the subject as they entered my
ooudoir: ''It's holy fact! Goes for it,
so smart! Has the beggar on toast be-
lore you can say Jack Robinsonr"
-A~ ulu not interest me.
out simply ran in my head. Then they
came into my room, and only for few
moments, as was not to be tired. The
engineer tried to amuse Stoffles, who
was seized with such fit of mortal bore
tom that he transferred his attentions
70 Ruby, the Gordon setter, a devoted
ana lnseparable friend of mine, under
whose charge l was shortly left as
sney went out.
suppose may have been asleep for
Ten minutes Or so when was awak-
saea by the noise of Ruby's heavy body
!umplng out through the open win
1oW. Feeling restless and seeing me
ssleep, he had imagined himself en-
!, n.leu to short spell off guard. Had
.Ae ooor not been ostensibly latched he
~ nd nouid have made his way out by it,
thoroughly used to open doors
w such tricks-a capacity which, in