Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1899-07-27
knew how ill at ease am, perhaps you

you got on
| But
Speak up, be honest,"
1--WE got on vest, a thin one-and
over that a warmer one; a hunting,
vest-you know-one of those English
concerns, knitted angora ia bbit; then a
coat and an overcoat."
Only one overcoat?"
''Oh! l have got on another one
but it's very thin; besides, it's bitterly
cold"
And those boots, like barrels. Did
some ancestor hand them down to you
or did you have them made for some
/ masked baIi?''
They're only fur-lined ones I've re-
Gently had made
Recently"
'Yes-a week ago."
ITO wear to Nice?"
Yes
Nine. de Nymbe burst into laugh;
! Chillaye felt annoyed. Positively" he
said. sulkily. las soon as one leaves
Paris, the country becomes hideously
monotonous; these paths we've been
! following for the last hour look all
alike
| We'll, but we don't complain of rid
| ing daily on the same roads in the
| Boise
Yes, but the Bots is quite a different
matter to this, and far prettier.'
Chillaye began to be in horrible
| temper. Nine. de Nymbe's good humor
was irritating. And he envied every
| thing about her-her thick veil, the
| heavy. golden coils that protected her
neck. even her position in the saddle,
| for he was getting a veritabie cramp.
| The prospect of passing whole days to-
gether astride brOad-fianked White Cat
| filled him with terror. Seeing old Bap-
tiste forging ahead, turning to right
and left without hesitation, crossing
| bridges, mounting slopes, Chillaye
asked: HAS your coachman ridden to
Nice before?'
Not all the. way, but he knows the
beginning. Isn't the country growing
pretty? Look at that little island.
There's nothing near Paris as pretty
Its an island like another. ii seems
to me. The Grande Yatte is far pref
tier"
DO YOU think so? The day is inn
proving. The fog has not entirely
cleared vet. but the sun can be felt
through it
Il should say so. It's given me an
awful headache: it must be sun
stroke,"
why. sunstrokes drive people mad
That's about il, otherwise do You
think l would jog to Nice by slow
stages?"
You certainly show no enthusiasm,
my poor Chillaye."
You didn't stipulate for enthusiasm
you must admit that when one is suf-
fering from a sunstroke. ones mood"
surely, you don't suppose pale sun
like that"
All the more dangerous, because one
takes no precautions; I'm not used 10
the low hat I've got on. y tall hal heats
the head less. because it is farther away
from it,
YES. but it's nearer the sun. so that
it amounts to the same thing
Now you're chatting me-.
Not at all. But you're in such bad
form that I'm inclined to give you back
your word and go to Nice without YOU.
Good-by. Hurry back to Paris.
Hurry? Why. were three hours
from Paris"
Nevertheless, here we are at the
Boulevard Maillot and the Garden of
Accumulation; in quarter of an hour
YOU can be at home. For the last two
hours we have been riding in the Bcis.
When you said just now that the
Grande Yatte was prettier than the is
land 1 wanted you to admire, we were
passing the Grande Yatte.''
1T is this cursed fog"
perhaps. But admit that even in
fine weather you would not have
guessed where you are, for you only
know few allees in the Bots. Good-by,
Chillaye, don't propose to anyone else
to go to the ends of the earth with them
they might take you at your word"
And you-are you going to NIECE"
Il never thought of such d thing!
I'm going back to lunch. Good appe-
tite!'
And off she rode at a brisk trot.
The fog having cleared, the weather
was radiant: swarms of riders. detained
by the thick morning. were now coming
to the Bots a the usual hour for leaving
il. Chillaye. recovering from his stUpe-
faction, rode slowly down the avenue,
rejecting that he had been done.
Mime. de Nymbe is mad. She has
cooled me off. and am glad of it. She's
pretty. of couTse-devilishi pretty
but she's far too original. All ca.
What are all those simPletons staring
has just been made fool of? Do they
read it in my face? Positively. Main
trailles laughed as he passed me.
What's wrong about me? All. sapristi!
It's my ridiculous get-up; my boots,
and my flask. and my hat, and the re-
volver- specially the revolver! Hang
il all. What wouldn't | give to be rid
of the revolver. Good enough, Here
are the Flirts-and one of the little
Rirfrays, ard D'Oronge. 1 must get rid
of it, at all cost
And Siding up to the edge of the
road, in spite of the Efforts of those who
wanted TO keep to Their right. he man
aged TO fling the revolver into bed of
gilly-fowers. Just as he passed the
FlirJs and their escort, policeman ran
after him, brandishing the revolver.
''Msieu. m'sieu. You have lost some
thing." - Adapted for the Argonauf
from the French of ''Gyp."
An Automatic Toe Clip.
An automatic toe clip has been de
signed which grips the foot as soon as
pressure is applied by the ball of the
foot, the pedal being balanced and hav-