Greene County herald. (Leakesville, Miss.) 1898-current, 1898-12-29


for me.
There was no immediate response
to my query, and 1 inferred from the
suspicious silence that either Mrs.
Metcalfe or her daughter was inspect
ing my letters, probably reading the
postcards, if there were any.
That is very often popularity of
landladies' daughters, as people who
are compelled to board we'll know
Again I asked:
"Mrs. Metcalfe, arethere any letters
for me? l expect letter Of some i'm
portance."
"Coming, sir-comingr' replied
Matilda, her daughter, as the latter
slowly ascended the stairs, gazing very
intMestsdly az postcard.
Ii few moments more she arrived
at my landing, on the second floor,
and gave TO me letter, two postcards
and newspaper.
II thought that you were inspect
ing my correspondence" said, sar-
castically.
"Whatl 1? Oh, Mr.. Bolton, I
would never think of such a thing"
And she went downstairs, tossing her
head like an enraged Shetland pony.
One card from my tailor to notify
me of his removal; one from Louis
Durande to tell me that he could not
keep certain engagement with me,
and letter from Percy Cresmer, who
had warmed his slippers at the same
college fire with me scarcely three
years ago.
His epistle ran thus:
Dear Belton-I claim your corgratula-
tions. am to be married next week to
the sweetest girl the sun ever shone upon.
There's surprise number one for you. And
wish you'd go to Silverman, the jeweler,
and get the wedding ring, size inclosed on
a bit OF paper. There's surprise number
two. Seriously, old fellow, It will do me
great favor, for business matters here are
complicated In such way that I cannot
hope to get to the city day before the
event, and OF course I know that l can
trust your tnste and Judgment equally with
my own. Have the words "Helon, 1885,"
engraved on the inside, and please send
by post without delay. Ever yours faith
fully. PERCY CnEsMER.
P. S.-She is an angel.
well" said I to myself, laying
down my old chum's rapturous letter,
"here's pretty commission for a
bachelor. An angel, is she? I don't
believe she's any more angelic than
Pauline Brooks. But every man thinks
his own goose swan. / pity tho poor
fellow, I'm sure; he's clearly in state
of glamour that makes him see every
thing couleur de rose. But I'm not
ono cto>desert friend at pinch-Tll
buy his miserable wedding ring with
the greatest pleasure in life."
So I locked my desk, put on my
overcoat, and went straightway to Sill
verman's.
knew Jones; I had bought gold
bracelet of him for Pauline Brooks six
months ago. Jones was dapper lit
tie fellow, with s.iffly waxed mustache.
q cameo scarf pin and hair bedewed
with some ambrosial perfume or other.
wedding rings, if you please"
said 1, plunging at once into the OBJ
iect OF my visit. Heres the size,"
producing my slip of paper.
"Any inscription, sir?" questioned
Jones, assuming SO preternaturally
knowing an aspect that 1 could cheer
fully have pitched him in among the
plated ware in the big glass showcase
behind him.
''Helen.' said I. brusquely, 1886
Emma, sir?" Jones put his hand
behind his eur to assist his hearing.
s'HelenI' bawled, out, painfully
conscious that the eyes of the three
pretty girls who were at the counter
beyond were upon me.
VERY pretty name," simpered
zones, rs he wrote down the order.
Any particular style?"