The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1901-10-31

I'm hanged if I know. I've often
wondered myself. Make them fall out
of love, suppose"

I'm hanged if I know. I've often
wondered myself. Make them fall out
OF love, suppose"
And when you've exhausted that?"
Make them fall in again!" She
stamped her foot impa tiently.
DO you absolutely refuse to be
original? cannot think you do your
self justice in keeping to such hack
neyed theme-though l admit you do
it very nicely"
Il might do it better if I had more
practical experience" I uggested.
There is omething about her. big eyes
and the little droop at the corners Of
her mouth which makes fellow say
that sort of thing, you know.
Now, remember our compact" she
warned me. We were pledged to a
purely platonic friendship. I've had
that sort of thing in my tales, but it
always broke down.
The keeping of platonic compact" :"
said l, would be novel theme, don't
you think?"
Would it be interesting enough ?''
she asked, doubtfully.
There! What stronger defense
could have? l propose to leave out
the love-making, and you say that the
interest would be gone" She drummed d
upon the table with her fingers.
Surely there is some other theme p
| knocked the ash deliberately off my
cigarette.
Upon my word," 1 confessed, "I'm
not sure that there is. But I'll think
over it."
changed the subject until was going.
1t is part of the compact that she shall
see me out of the door. I insisted
upon it.
"When shall I communicate the re-
suit of my deliberations? I asked in
the hall. "To-morrow?"
"I'm going to Vereker's."
"And Wednesday, I'm due at a
smoker. Thursday"
"If you like"
"Thursday, then. Good night, Mary
1t is in the compact that am not to
call her Mary, but l do. Sometimes she
objects. sometimes she doesn't. On
this occasion she only tossed her head
and half turned away from me. She
is aware that she looks well in profile.
I suddenly bent over her. and
"How dare you!" she cried, hotly.
II couldn't help it, Mary; you looked
so tempting" But she ran upstairs,
with her face scarlet.
II shall not be in on Thursday" she
called. as she turned the corner, "or
any other day."
So I went out, feeling triumphantly
foolish.
Next Thursday I called, and she
| wasn't out; but she received me cool.
ly, and kept the table between us.
"Look here, Mary" began.
miss Montague, if you please!"
81 don't please. 1t is quite natural
to call friend by her Christian name y
"Ye-es; but people might misunder
stand, we agreed; and So
"I'm not going to pander to other
peoples stupidity" I said, indignant
ly; "and I don't consider that friend
ship should have to be weighed and
measured in exact words" ! had pre-
pared this remark beforehand.
MOO; perhaps not" I knew il
would score. "Still, there are bounds
to friendship" She shut her little
mouth decisively.
eff you mean last Tuesday"
"I don't want to talk about it, she
interrupted. "Have you considered
about the stories?"
"Yes; I have reasoned out my posi-
ton most carefully-Mary. She
frowned, but passed the familiarity.
| "And your conclusions?'
'Is in verse"
40, how nice!" Women always like
a fellow to run to verse. / suppose il
is because he is sure to give himself
away! LET me see it."
"On condition that you read it aloud.
| She looked objections. II want tt
hear if I have got the swing"
So she declaimed softly. I think
said that she had a pretty voice.
| made me tale of the tempest at sea,
| Full of thunder and lightning above,
| And the terrors that be when the storm
| winds are free
| But the end of the story was love!
I sang me song of a raid in the glen,
| With a Tilt of the pipers who played,
| Strike again. strike again, and die fighting
| like meni
| And the struggle was over a maid!
planned me a play of a monarch OF fame
| And his courtiers in silken attire
| And his statesmen, who came like mott
/ to the flame
For a pair of bright eyes were the fire!
I paeaned the praise Of an hero SO calm.
| And so strong In the tumult to stand,
When found me the charm that ha'
| strengthened his arm
| 1t was only the touch of hand:
And 1? If my heart for moment be stron2
If my tale for page ring sincere,
Or if merits belong to the play or the song
They are only your echoes, my dear!
When she came to the last line he
voice was very soft, and just ittl
fearful. / put my hand on her shoul
der, and we stood looking silently>.a
1 4 i