Rogue River courier. (Grants Pass, Or.) 1886-1927, 1901-02-14
His One Love Dream
Il Lasted Nearly One Gay. and Thinks lie
Escaped yery Easily.

MINE o'clock OF lovely April morn
IN ing, with the air breathing soft
scents OF budding grass and early
spring yiolets, while overhead the
blue sky stretched It's dazzling dome,
like an arch OF glittering sapphire!
ITS spring in good earnest" said
Mr.. Petro Peterson, as he sat At his
window, his heels poised on the ex-
treme outer ledge, and fragrant cigar
perfuming the surrounding atmos-
phere, "Heighol ] can almost fancy
how the dnndelons are starring over
the hills OF the old New Hampshire
farm where / was bornl Who would
think that 1t was the 26th OF April
already2 And my house not let. What
can the real estate agents be thinking
OF"
Mr.. Petro Peterson was stout, bald
headed gentleman Of some six-nnd-for-
~ years Of age, with bright hazel eyes,
and neat, compact little fgure-one
OF those men whose very air and gait,
even though they were never to speak
a word, make the perpetual proclama-
ton: 81 am man OF money and pod
tionl"
~ don't see why Mrs, Parker want
ed to give up the house" went on Mr..
Peterson, IN his unsyllabled soliloquy.
"She says it's because the price OF
board Is falling, and she can't Afford
TO Reep up the establishment
great mistake OF hers in my opinion
a great mistakel She's the only wom-
nm ever knew who could make real
French omelet, or knew what cafe noir
meant Imalmost tempted to wish--al-
most ] say--that had married some
nice sensible little girl 20 good years
ago; for-dear me, what can all that
ringing at the bell moan2 Why don't
Mrs. Parker answer itf DO the people
mean to pull the wire out bodily, !
wondnr?"
He had just tossed his cigar out OF
the window. with the intention of him
self Fastening TO the rescue when a
servant girl came up TO his apart
ment, breathless and eager.
"What is y, Hannah" he cried, iras-
chilly.
III ye please, SIR, the mistress is
gone to market, and there's no one TO
show the house. told 'em would they
call again, but they said perhaps MIR
Peterson would oblige 'eml"
every cool Of 'em, upon my world"
cried MIR. Peterson, mentally eNecrat-
ing the whole race of house hunters
~ beg your pardon, Mr., Peterson" ="
cried voice as soft and sprightly as
the notes Of the bluebrd, but mamma
and have so many places to go to, and
we thought you wouldn't mind our see
ing the housel"
And Mr. peterson's wrath melted
away like a morning yapor before her
pretty insolcnce Of demeanor, as she
stood in the doorway, balNncinRa fairy
parasol on her finger, and looking with
saucy artlessness round his bachelor
sanctum, while Mrs Cope's matronly
countcnance appeared in the back
ground.
"You can allow us the privilege of
lhNhlhk ~ NNul Hout't NoAh H'"hhA''
coaNingly. I-that is, mamma has got
to move, and although the rent OF this
house must, Of course, be very high,
she thought, by taking u few board
ers she might contriye 10 meet cN.
penses!"
Exactly So" said mild Mrs. Cope,
"Are you going to move elscwhere2'
asked JEANNE OF our hero, as She
glanced at the haltpnckcd trunks
my laudlady is" groaned MIR Pctrc
Peterson. It's awful to be at IN,
mercy OF a lnndlady, Miss Copo!'
"lut its all your fault"
AN my fault2"
"ro be sure--why didn't you gel
mArried2'
because l was a fool"
"Aud why don't you get marie,
now?" pursued the relentless htu
sprite.
'Would YOU" questioned MIR, Peter
son, gravely, ~ you were ! %"
'oi course would. Grtmarricd an,
board with US, Mamma will give yo,
this room, and"