The Emmett index. [volume] (Emmett, Idaho) 1893-1925, 1898-08-12
THE TWENTY
THIRD REGIMENT.

III HE day, the long. radiant day.
has dropped and faded like the
n passionate-hue velvet roses that.
clamberlng about the wide French win
dows, turn their beautiful dusky South
ern faces. now lost In the night shad-
ows, to greet little caressing wind
which. laden with the perfume Of their
KISSES steals from the garden into the
quaint, dimly-llt old room where few
OF the usual afternoon tea-drinkers are
lounglng and loath to leave.
81 declare" says Bobby Smythe. who
has unblushlngly consumed countless
settler lemonades and gallons Of iced
punch. and Is now cheerfully beginning
his fifth cup of Russian tea. ~ should
like to make this room my permanent
home, really should. If you will let
me-" turning his homely, pleasant face
toward the gentle chatelaine. II prom
ise not to put you out at all. could
live IN little tent over there by the
window seat and do my own cooking
and washing. and | needn't Interfere
with you In the least. l do love camp
life. and there would be splendid hunt
Ing for me In the poultry yard"
Bobby" observes Betty. who Is rev.
cling In n desperate Irritation with an
officer Of the Twenty-third, has al
ways such charmingly feasible plans
TO suggest. His Ideas are really child
like In their simplicity"
Il try TO make them So" answers Mr..
Smythe, because know the intellects
/ have to deal with, and ! want to be
interesting to you. Betty. as well as"
"Poufw cries Betty, contemptuously
and sticks the tip OF her small red
tongue out at Bobby with an lmperti-
hence which rifles that young man APP
parently TO such a degree that he
reaches for chair with which to scat
ter her brains and then goes over to the
tea table where the little girl In the
gray gown is smiling over the silver tea
pot, while Betty and her particular
lieutenant wend their way out to the
shadowy lawn to make up any time
that has been lost.
MY sweet child" says Bobby, as he
passes over his cup to be refilled, you
don't know how perfectly charming
that silver teapot looks with you as a
background. But there. believe you
are dcep-souled and don't care for com
pliments. You'd much rather listen to
philosophlc problem, wouldn't you?
Well. here's one Why is Betty when
she flirtsr'
81 give 1t up" answers the little girl
In the gray gown, lifting a flower of a
face to Bobby's freckled and shining
visage. 81 suppose the answer Is, be-
cause she wanted to get on the other
side Of the road or so did the other
one or something Of that sort, ehT'
my child" replies Mr.. Smythe, you
are frivolous, and there Is nothing
which disapprove Of so much as fri
volity. Why is Betty when she flirts? ?
Because he leaves for the Philippines
tomorrow. That's the answer"
The little girl In the gray gown laughs
lightly. though her eyes are grave. very
grave.
Il do believe" says she. that you are
the Cheerful Idiot In disguise"
discovered" cries Bobby. but, O
spare me and XIII the chldl AS HEAVIER
is witness. | meant no wrong"
But here he is. provldentially, inter-
ruptcd by tall man In lieutenants
uniform. one Of the officers of the
Twenty-third. He Is big. bronzed fell
low. with large mouth. which Bobby
Smythe tells Scuddy later he would
give dollar TO possess, especially when
Betty has chocolate cake for afternoon
tea. and his Drowned strong face Is
saved from absolute LONELINESS by an
indefnable fearless stamp that is the
outward aud visible sign Of the brave
soul within.
'Win you" says he. with an expan-
sive smile that somehow softens the
impression he gives of dash and danger.
"be SO kind as to give me cup Of tear
1t win be perhaps two or three years
before VIII have the chance to get an
other refreshing cup poured for me by
an American girl"
"Jeruslaemw observes Bobby, with
sympathy. II not elegance, but that's
long time between drinks, old man.
You'd better make the most of your
present opportunity" and then. with a
wisdom that does him credit, he mods
an au revoir but not good-by to the lit
tie girl In the gray gown, and hies him
over to Freddy van Twltter. who. with
his hands thrust down deep In his
trousers pockets, is scowling battle,
murder. and sudden death In the direc.
ton of the garden.
Got the toothache?" asks Mr.