The Chickasha daily express. (Chickasha, Indian Territory [Okla.]) 1899-current, 1901-01-28

40 hci tullk 4 ought TO oc governed
By Aunt Lbs wishes in this case"
But. them Bess went on. "let us
look at it all senslbly glad Toms
gone. for he would cali me mercenary.
Aunt Lib is an old. old lady 1t isn't
a fortune that she has, by any means.
though she writes as If it were-but It
must be a few thousand dollars. NOW.
| don't give a thought 10 any gain per
sonany. but II auntie should die within
few years before Tom and ! have
made your fortunes. why I've hoped all
along / could just send you and Mildred
down to the sunny south, where you
both belong, for at least four months
out Of every year. And now she's am
CRY and displeased. It is too bad
and / want TO be lighi. as well as kind
to Aunt Lib What shah / do
'sWell, think Of it a little while,
dear" said her mother, before you de-
eide what you will do. ! wish I could
talk with your aunt personally. I am
sorry''-and Mrs. Greenleafs voice fall
.ered-"that she should think for
moment that / would permit my girls
to do anything unladylike. A LADY is
as much a lady on her wheel as in an
easy chair 1t is a pleasure, dear. TO
see you ride. almost long to ride my
self"
"Oh. mamma, dor cried Mildred. sud
denly reviying. 1T may be your last
opportunity before Bess splits her
wheel up for kindling. She's going to
II see it in her eye.
mo. I'm going TO sleep on 1.-THE
subject, ! mean.
Colors seen by candle-light
Never look the same BY day,
YOU know. And meanwhile I'm going
out for a spin. just down the avenue
little way"
Her dear wheel How could she give
it up? It seemed almost sentient be-
meath her as she slipped into her seat
and touched the pedals. What fun she
had had learning to take that easy
sliding stepl And was it not the poetry
Of motion, to glide so swift, so silent,
under the evening stars and between
the long. lessening. vanishing lights Of
the avenue. Frightening now as the
twilight sky grew dark? There was no
breeze. 1t was a peaceful evening Of
early May, and the winds were hushed,
but her very flight through the scented |
night air caused a gentle wind TO cool
her fevered face
only for mother and Mildred I'd !
never, never do *. Ought l to, in any
case? Aunt Lib will think il is for
moneys sake that I give up, and she'll |
respect me less than she does now.
How I wish It was right to do exactly |
as my impulse tells me- Wen. III /
sleep on it, as | said. Now dear wheel,
how many minutes home2'
On Monday morning, four nights af-
ter Bess slept on it. she looked flushed [
and happy as she stood in jaunty, |
modest suit OF dark blue. before the I
mirror, pinning on snug little cap. /
Mildred. excited and admiring, was how
ering about her, and Tom was affect
ing aippancy to conceal his real sor-
row at losing his fayorite sister for
long week; for Bess had obtained an
early vacation by special plea, and
was going to spend it at harrington
with Aunt Elizabeth. She was going
with intent to have Il out with Aunt
Lib frankly, and had sent word to that
effect
when she secs you come sailing UP [
on your wheel in that pretty, pretty
new gown and dismounting with"
"Ah. but. Mildred. I'm not going to
sail up at all. That would be too braz-
en-. / shall leave the wheel at the sta
tion, if It gets there as soon as /. and
lust stroll down some fine day and get
it. I'll write you long letter, and
tell you all about it. There's my car
Good-by." And Bess was gone.
What an age Mildred declared the
six ensuing days to be, when no word
came from Bess,
"You don't think she'd kin her. do
you. mamma, In her FIRST wild rage,
you know queried Mildred. smiling.
eOnly let Bess escape with her life and /
I'll answer for her"
But at last Elizabeth's letter came.
Dear Small Sister And the other
good folk whom I foresee looking over
her shoulder I am unscathed and 4
sound Of limb. My precious wheel re-
poses against the back yard fence
" 1t in disgrace? I myself am curled
up in a corner Of the musty old attic
Am I in solitary confinement? You
shall know by patiently reading
Il met with no startling adventures,
neither in the railway train nor in the
old stage at harrington. OF eourse /
left that unspeakable spinning-wheel
at the station there. Aunt Lib met me
at the door. She was mild. but firm
and Ann stood behind her and gave me I
the impression of wringing her hands 4
in distress for my wickedness.
Aunt. not knowing but that I was
there to be forgiven, you know, was
quite willing to have me fortified by
slight repast'-I use her own lam
guage-and by evening had regained
my composure. The open FIRE was
lighted in that dear. stuffy old parlor
Ann withdrew. and / brought the wheel
,r, for dfrr1reafou