Middletown transcript., 1900-12-15
=. A Game Postponed !,
BIZ GERTRUDE SMITH.

WIN 40 PAOIOSICu ny DCillS a Ou6bOAh'
The young man sat awkwardly in his
chair and was silent.
"They seemed to be closing the doors
against any thought he might have of
closer intimacy with the family.
The judge left the room for moment,
and came back with lighted lamp, and
placed it on the claw-legged table in the
centre of the room. He had put on a
long dressing-gown faced with crimson
quilted silk, and now he drew his great
chair up before the fire, and stretched
himself out into it.
"Come, Clint, l will let you shake the
pepper for me, and I'll 60 down cellar
and get some apples. Isabel looked at him
with merry twinkle in her eyes, as she
held the handle towards him, and then
ran out of the room.
Clint grasped the handle of the pepper
with the delight of success flooding his
viens Isabel had never before given him
reason to believe that she cared for him
that could compare with that look.
Daylight would find him sitting right
there, but he would beat the judges
watch and gain the opportunity Of speak
ing to her
1t was delightful evening. The Judge
partook of the popcorn, and the crnver-
sation was more than usually afable and
entertaining.
Isabel sat on the opposite side of the
fireplace and crocheted on a blue wool
scarf There were pink spots burning on
her cheeks,an her eyes were very sweet.
The time passed on until the noisy
clock on the mantel clearly and forcibly
announced the hour ten.
1t had been comparatively easy this
far, but now was the time when Clint
usually went home.
The real contest was about to begin.
The Judge showed his chair back to the
table, picked up a paper, and began to
read.
From time to time he glanced over the
top Of his paper at the two talking before
the fire, but still read on.
When the clock struck eleven, he
threw the paper down, pulled his chair
back to the fire, and drew the young man
into an animated political discussion.
Isabel stirred about the room, putting
things in order for the night.
1t was nearing midnight. For the last
fifteen minutes the conversation had be-
gun to lag.
There were cold moments of complete
silence.
Had you noticed that 1 had traded
horses?" Clint asked in one painful
pause.
''No; have your" Isabel asked coming
forward with interest.
eyes. Pve traded the grays for George
Merwin's blacks. OF course there was
considerable to boot. They go like the
wind in my cutter"
II should think they would" Isabel
drew deep breath. 'I do like black
horses. never cared for gray ones. I
Us think of having to look for red
headed GIRL" she laughed. II should
think you'd always be on the outlook for
one when you ride behind them"
"Perhaps Mr.. Holderman is looking
for red-headed GIRL" the judge said,
with queer look in the direction of
the young man. ''There's superstition
that a red-headed girl has a violent
temper. Now, that isn't always true"
he said, after moments silence, in
which his thoughts seemed to have been
far away. 'Isabel's mother had as sweet
disposition as any women that ever
lived, and her hair was the color of that
deep flame there"
Isabel was leaning on the back of her
fathers chair. ''Why, father, you've
always said my hair was almost the
color of mothers. I'm sure no one would
think of calling mine red"
ri don't know about that" the judge
laughed; land dent know about the
temper, either" he added, reaching up
and pinching her cheek
Il never liked red hair, but I'm sure I
don't believe in that sign," Clint said
clumsily. He gazed fxedly into the fire,
and felt as though he were turning to
stone
The clock struck twelve with reason
ant, defiant stroke, as though it under
stood the contest in which it held the
stakes, and refused to commit itself as to
whose side would win.
At quarter past twelve the Judge stood
up.
Clint felt his heart beating wildly. The
moment of triumph was at hand.
The judge crossed to the bay window
at the other end of the room. Isabel's |
eyes followed him nervously.
From one side, among the geraniums
and ivy, he drew the chess-table, and |
pushed it before him toward the fire.
II think it would be pleasant for US to |
haze game of chess" he said affably.
Clint sprang to his feet.
"0h, thank yon, sir. l think I must
be going home"
"Oh, must you? Well, come over again
and we'll get at it earlier in the even
ing"
1t seemed hours before Clint finally
found himself out on the smooth snow
beaten road, spinning along toward
home.
He would have been completely
in his defeat if it had not been
for that look in IsabePs eyes when she
handed him the corn-popper. He could
endure his fathers ridicule and wait his
lime, remembering that look.
And so he made good story of it at
breakfast the next morning, and added,
slevating his voice above the roaring
augh of his father and the shrieks of his
mother and sister: -
''Never you mind. The judge isn't