The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1898-09-23

AGAIN snail punish you.
CHAPTER v.
This threat from his usually indulg-
ent father has such a depressing effect
on Bob's spirits that he makes up his
mind to eschew temptation for the flu
ture.
miss Widen won't love you If you
don't behave like gentleman" con-
tinues the father severely, as an appro-
pirate ending to his reprimand.
Gus don't love Miss Widen" here
interrupts Meg with great dignity
"she is nasty cross old ting"
Nonsense, Meg!" says her father,
placing his hand under her chin and
smiling down into her eyes. "If you
don't love Miss Widen, am afraid you
must be hardened little wretch, for
with dreary sigh-"alas, she is only
too devoted to you'll"
Meg shakes her head in an uncom
pretending way, and repeats. with a
determined little pout-
Gus don't like her-us loves Sell"
eyes, us loves dear She'll" chimes
in Bob eagerly. "She tells us lovely
stories"
"My dear misguided children, your
affection for Miss Shell is decidedly
misplaced" here interrupts their uncle,
returning from his post at the win
dow. "She doesn't like boys and girls
at ALL"
mot like little boys and derls?" re-
peats Meg, quite taken aback by such
an extraordinary statement.
mo, indeed-in fact she gave me to
understand that she almost hated
them" repeats Ted, much amused at
the children's look Of horror so !
strongly advise you not to waste your
young affections on such an unrespons-
i've object"
The warning, being clothed in words
beyond their understanding, makes no
impression on the children's minds,
but their strong preference for the
younger sister strikes their father fore
IDLY, and he catches himself murmur-
ing more than once in wondering
tone-"Us loves Shell; us loves dear
She'll"
After that it often happens that Ru-
by, under some trifing pretext or other,
shifts the burden of her self-imposed
task on to Shells young shoulders
she has a headache, or is busy, or has
letters to write; and then Shell, taking
pity on the poor children-who are
sure to have rough time Of 1t If Ruby
is disinclined for them-devotes her
morning to their instruction and
amusement.
She brides them to be good at their
lessons by the promise of romp in
the grounds when their task is COM
pleted; and so it happens that Robert
Champley, CHANGING to drive over him
self to fetch them one late June morn
ing, comes upon an unexpected and to
him charming sight.
On grown mound at the front
of copper-beech sits Shell in dark
print gown, with her bright hair coiled
around and around with daisy-chains,
which the children's busy fingers have
been weaving, whilst she tells them a
wonderful tale from Fairyland
So engrossed are all three that they
do not become aware of the intruder's
approach until he has descended from
the trap and walked quietly to within
a few PAGES of their resting place; then
a shout of Papa, papa!" from Meg
rouses them all from their ideal world
to realistic one.
Shell starts from her lowly seat,
crimsons to the very roots of her hair,
and puts on as forbidding look as she
can we'll assume.
ooh, pa, 1t is so jolly; you come and
listen, tool" cries Bob, eager that his
father should participate In their en-
joyment. "The princess is shut up in
dark room, because her wicked god
mother won't allow her ever to see
the sunshine, and the prince is keeping
guard outside her tower with carriage
and six, to carry her away to an island
blazing with light If he gets the
chance"
"Rather trying for her eyes, won't
it be? 1 should be inclined to recon-
mend her a pair of spectacles till she
gets used to the glare" laughs Robert
Champley as he shakes hands with
Shell.
But Shell has become fossilized. She
shakes hands Imply, puts on stolid
conventional expression, and, drawing
her small figure up to its fullest height,
tries to look exceedingly dignifed. Her
efforts are somewhat married by the
daisies so profusely twisted around hsr
head; but, as she is happily forgetful
of their presence, they do not trouble
her.
"Sell,' dear, she didn't have blue spec
tacles, did she?" cries Meg, shocked at
such a very unromantic suggestion.
ct don't know, 1 am sure" responds
Shell in a tone Of cold Indifference.
"But 90 does know" cries Meg, wax
ing impatient, and shaking Shells
skirts in her anxiety to have the doubt
settled.
'I am afraid my children are weary