Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1900-06-20

"Oh, where, tell me where, has my High
land laddie gone?
Oh, where. tell me where, has my High
land laddie gone?
He's gone to fight the French with King
George all on his throne,
And It's Oh. in my heart, that had him
safe at home.''
0NER and over again the childish
~ treble rose. Outside the fierce
June sun cast glare over field and
wood, over vine-shaded house and
dusty road. The first hot term of the
summer had come, with drought, OPP
preston and discomfort in it's track.
At every window the blinds were
closed, but here and there flaming
shaft of light penetrated to the dusk
and quiet within. 1t was as if the
weather had entered into fell con-
spiracy against all the living world,
but chiefly against the life of the
crops and the tempers of men.
But it's Oh. in my heart, that had him
safe at home.''
Mabel" said weary voice, with
hint of irritation in it, show much
longer before you'll have him safe
at home?'"
''Oh, Uncle George" said the little
girl, turning to long figure on the
sofa, almost invisible in the gloom,
Il didn't know you were there. Does
your head ache: I was just prac-
ticing for the school entertainment"
Come and tell me all about it,
wont you, little one" making room
for the slight figure on the sofa.
swell, you see," began the little
girl, as she nestled into his arms,
school closes on Friday, and in the
evening we're going to have an en-
tertainment, with songs and pieces
and be-yu-ti-ful flowers, and, oh, lots
of nice things
"Anybody l know going to do any
thing?'
''Why, Uncle George" said the little
maid reproachfully, I'm going to
sing. Didn't 1 tell you 1 was prac-
ticing?"
''Oh, yes, so you did, I remember
now. And what are you going to
sing?"
'Now, believe you're teasing I'm
going to sing The Blue Bells of Scot
land OF course
Dear, dear, what an honor, and
you're sure You won't be fright
ened?"
'Why, Uncle George, of course not"
with firm conviction.
What shall you do if they all clap
and stamp, and perhaps shout and try
to brighten little nine-year-old maid
l know?"
why, 1 should keep right on" with
decision.
''Very: we'll, we'll see. I've very
pretty book upstairs to give to the
little girl that isn't frightened. I
wonder who'll get it? Now I'm going
to try to go to sleep while you sing.
Run away"
A hot night, with all that is con-
tanned in the words; night with no
cooling westerly breeze; with shrub
berry and grass parched and brown; a
light when the dust raised by pass
ing teams settles lazily with no wind
to blow it about; night with no
gathering thunder caps to herald a
welcome shower: night when men
see with apprehension the dwindling
of the water supply, and talk of for
est fires, and shudder at the men,
ton; night when the changing of
the fire engines brings startled sleep
ers to their feet with alright; night
when clothes are burden and move
mcnt an abhorrent thing.
The assembly room on the second
floor of the ancient wooden school
house was filled with fretful, per-
spring audience, whose temper was
short, and whose patience was short
er; whose politeness was scant and
sympathy scanter; one hated the
sight of his uncomfortable neighbor,
and loathed to touch him.
In front sat the rows on rows of
little girls who were If anything more
deserving of pity than their audience.
They were prim to degree, each
with starched7 dress, anu braided
pig-tail. Their hands were clasped
ir their laps, and they looked with
scared eyes at the people: In the
midst of them, also with starched
1CoSss D40AS<V0y ES6 1l0AA' "nH SSAoSPCu
hands, but, sharing in no degree the
apprehension of the others, calm with
great resolve, sat Mabel. Uncle
i George could but smile with pride at
SO dauntless a bearing, and felt it
some compensation for being dragged
out this sitting night by the illness
+ Of the little ones mother. He looked
I. about him, taking in the rows of I'M
happy mortals. on either side; the
prim little girls. il i front; the limp
and faded flags hung il. restless pro-
I. fusion, with a / sublime disregard Of
/ the gas jets. Hisaface grew grave.
Il GAS long asssthere's noswind, IAN inch's
as good as; a mile, ~ he said, Z half
aloud. a f $r 81 gs.= III 1.
!, 81 beg your pardon, did you speak
to me ?" said a voice beside him. He
turned and beheld y very stout gem
Nj tleman, with wisp of rag for 2
collar, his face an unknown shade Of
]. purple, surmounte ed by mop Of car.
roty red hair. .5. .=.. ..
-; warm ii light, isn't il g II.
Tho stout gent eman looked at him