The Yakima herald. [volume] (North Yakima, W.T. [Wash.]) 1889-1914, 1898-11-03

hors II she should feel disappointed.
Brownlec was a good working mem.
Der Of Congress. He made friends
rapidly with the leaders. and watched
that they never lost sight of him sin-
gle day. All this young man wanted
was opportunity. He would rise to tho
occasion, for that he vouched.
The session came'to an end. The cleo
ton was near at hand. and every men,
Der fastened home to look after his
fences. 1t was the hardest struggle Of
his life to decide upon n course Of &C.
ton with regard to his aristocratic
wife. Take her home? Leave her
here? He suggested the latter course.
II have been thinking good deal
about IT." remarked Mrs. Brownlee. 81
think I shall accompany you. You
know, dear. have never seen your
papa and mamma. I have formed my
own ideas of them. and am real anxious
to see them. They must be just charm
ing people to have n son like my Ally"
ALLY" Is what she always called
him. But there was no music In the
sound OF the sweet dimlnutive, as she
uttered II on this fatal morning after
breakfast. Brownlee had headache,
and was not as responsive to his wife's
affectionate caresses as usual.
well, I'm not ashamed of 'em. any
how" he replied in desperation.
They packed their things and left
town the next evening.
If Mrs. Brownlee In her buoyant
trustfulness anticipated scenes of greet
ing In which mingled the picturesque
effects of a summer residence ON the
banks of Lake Como, as described by
Claude Melnotte, with the other details
Of romantic stage Illusions, which be-
guile the senses Of "a girl who has seen
only the fashionable side of life her
ant!cipations were somewhat dampen-
ed when they stepped Off the train In
the dark and found themselves on a
platform whore some rough-looking
men were lounglng about under the
canopy Of projecting roof that was
sheltering them from a dreary rainfall.
They seemed to recognize the member
Of Congress, despite his disguise, for
he wore fashionable overcoat and
closely rolled umbrella, though he had
exchanged his silk hat for Derby.
After some whispering the knot Of
loungers gravitated toward them.
DOG my oats. BILL" called out one,
"if this amt Smith Brownlee. Hello,
Smith; got back. have yo'?" slapping
l.. 4. 1.
putty! Come ere, Jim: look at i'm.
Would ye know I'm ef yo' met I'm on
dark road? Say. Smith, yo' must
a-struck II rich when we sent yo' to
Congress, When yo' left var yo' didn't
have an overcoat L yo' back, an I'll
leave it to the crowd, now, did 'eY'
Smith tried to take 1t as a Joke. He
laughed softly and introduced his wife
in the ill-llghted waiting>room whittier
the delegation Of his constituents had
followed. They removed their hats and
stared at the lady like lot of bump
kins; but this diversion continued only
! until the most loud spoken constituent
could think Of saying something that
was intended for a compliment to Mrs.
BrOwnlee, but which ricochotted upon
her husband In the form of another
rude sally at the metamorphosls of his
condition, when they all hawhawed In
chorus.
Mrs. Brownlee was beginning to get
shocked. The smell of the coal oil made
her Ill, and she pinched her husbands
arm az signal to break away and HE
to the bosom of his family. Brownlee
cursed himself and the crowd. and for
the first time In his life felt sorry that
he ever married. Outwardly, however,
he gave no token of his chagrin, but
smiled and cracked jokes and clutched
at every straw that promised him relief
from the merciless persihage of his ILL
bred constituents. He finally managed
to get his wife and himself into foul
smelling little country bus that carried
passengers; and hoarse shout that
sounded half derisive to the welltrnIn-
ed perceptive faculties Of Mrs. Brown
lee went up from the platform through
the darkness and rain as they drove
away.
Brownlee told the bus driver to stop
at the hotel. He did, but the owner
was tearing down that part Of the
building where the rooms for guests
were located. TO rebuild, he said, "agin
court time" and there was no place
there for them. So there was nothing
to do but what Brownlee, In the most
desperate calculation Of his chances,
had never contemplated even as a last
resort--stop at his home.
"Daisy," said he, In a hoarse voice,