The White Pine news. [volume] (Treasure City, Nev.) 1868-1906, 1899-12-07

mot in the least said Ethel Ana
she sat down by the window. where
lyies, trained In bottles of water were
creeping like green jewels across the
crystal panes of glass.
sue! Suen She started as the voice
of her preux chevalier Of the evening
before came roaring down the back
stairs. "Confound you all down there,
why aren't my boots blackedf Sue!
Mother. Nell What's become OF my
breakfast? You must think man has
nothing to do but TO lie here and walt
all day for you lazy folks to stir
aroundw
There was no reply as he paused, APP
parently expecting one. Mother was
down in the garden under big green
sunbonnet, gathering scarlet-cheeked
tomatoes for dinner. "NelP' was in the
front ward picking red-yelned autumn
leaves out of the gold and russell drifts
that lay like treasures of precious
stones upon the grass.
Sue was shut up among the mysteries
of patterns" innumerable. with Miss
Sara Martell Ethel Hunt sat coloring
and half frightened, the sole anditress
of Mr.. Morands objurgations.
Il know there's some one down
therer he shouted. Il can hear you
breathe and your dress rustic. just
like your ugliness not to answer n. fe.-
lowl DO you hear? Sue. Black my
boots. quick I'm waiting for rhem!
And bang. bang" came the useful
articles of wear in question down the
winding stairway that led INTO the
kitchen.
Poor little Ethel! She half rose up,
then sat down again, piteously unde-
cided what to do; and even while she
hesitated. with color varying like the
rod and white of the American flag in
a high wind. the door at the foot of the
stairs flew open and I'm stalked Julian
Morand, sallow and dishevelled, with
unkempt hair and beard, fretfully
curyed mouth, and n most unbecoming
costume of solled Turkish dressing
gown, faded pearl-colored neither gar
ments, and stockinged feet thrust into
red morocco slippers.
say YOU. hS 'i''' w WI '''
don't YOU"
And then, perceiving to whom he was
actually addressing himself, he started
back, turning fiery red.
Miss Huntr'
And, with n downward glance at his
toilet, he fairly turned and fed, the
skirts Of his Turkish dressing gown
floating like red and orange meteors,
and, terrified though she was, Ethel
Hunt could not resist the temptation
to break into a peal of hearty laughter.
This, then, was her ideal among men,
her gallant cavalier, her "Sir Launce-
lot" of fancled perfection, snarling at
his mother and sisters like an ill-condi-
toned bear fnging old boots down the
stairs at them, tumbling out of bed at
0 o'clock in the morning, while his
mother split klndlings and picked toma-
toes out in the vegetable garden! Like
some Chinese idol, so fell Julian Mo
rand off his high pedestal In the estima-
ton of Miss Ethel Hunt
She told It all to Sara Marteh when
they were safe at home.
Aunt Sara" she said, II am thor
oughly disenchanted"
Miss Martell shrugged her shoulders
and mentally thanked her lucky stars.
Il could have told you as much be-
fore" said she. These Adonises are
like cheap calico-they will neither
wash nor wearl Wait until Everard
Grafton comes"
"And who Is Eyerard GraftonY"
1.-The incest young fellow In the word
after my betrothed husband"
When Mr.. Grafton came he so far
justified Aunt Saras encomlums that
Ethel really did like him. And Aunt
Sara was willing to leave the rest to
fate.-New York News.