The Middleburgh post. [volume] (Middleburgh, Snyder Co., Pa.) 1883-1916, 1902-09-11

, freely and enthusiastically as II thil
were the beginning rather than ths
end. There was no sound of funera
dirge in all the music of nature.
We lunchcd on bananas bought oi
the Italian pe.jler, who, Bruce as
sured me, had slept with them tc
encourage their ripening. They were
cheaper that way, and we were eco
nomical.
The heart had gone out of the day
1t was dying. The lights were twink
ling from the tall buildings, and ]
could distinguish the Masonic TEN.
pie elevators making ceaseless trips
to and from the roof garden. Then
we reached the pier in the Randolph
street harbor.
"How cool it has grown" Bruce re.
marked. as we landed
Yes" / replied. We had become
quite conventional. We hailed a car
and soon were at the little cafe.
Bruce handed me the bin of fare, and
l sat lingering it, hardly realizing
what l was doing.
"Order something" he said at last,
GROSSLY.
"0h, 1 beg your pardon!" I ex-
claimed. The blonde waitress who
always irritated Bruce because there
was no soul back of her pretty face,
smiled knowingly as l gave my order.
We ate dinner in silence. and soon
afterward Bruce bade me goodnight
at my door. My heart stopped beat
ing and l seemed sinking out of ex-
istence.
awoke to the new day in glad
ness of spirit, my mind full of the
dear home folks, and what should
be able to do for them.
There was knock at the door.
My landlady handed me a letter from
Mr.. Haverknap, 1t was to advise me
that he would call at ten o'clock to
take me away, instead of II, as had
been arranged. 1t was now nine.
hurried dressing, crowded the last
article into my bursting trunk, and
was only through when the carriage
stopped below.
l did not glance toward Bruce's
door as / weht out. Mr.. Haverknap
put me into the carriage and we were
on our way to the church. AS we
passed the little cafe l involuntarily
glanced out of the window. Bruce
was just entering. He did not see me,
and l was glad.
We had reached the church.
Friends who had been invited had not
arrived, owing probably to the change
in the hour. The minister was not
there.
wait here" Mr.. Haverknap said,
as the sexton let us in, "Ill step over
to the parsonage"
l waited. My heart began to beat
wildly, and my head seemed bursting.
A mad thought possessed me, and I
could not put it away. l peeped out
and saw the friends whom we had
expected coming down the street.
That decided me. l opened the door
and slipped out around the church.
I ran like deer down a side street,
through an alley, crossed the boule-
ward, painting, breathless, reached
and entered the little cafe.
Bruce sat alone at our little table,
his breakfast untouched before him.
sat down opposite him.
He looked at me stupifed. The
waitress came up.
Coffee and rolls?" she asked,
glancing curiously at my costume.
| nodded. Anything to get rid of
her. Bruce looked at me strangely,
almost reproyingly.
Il couldn't help it, Bruce l said
quietly. Il couldn't go on with it."
He picked up the morning paper
and glanced down the columns.
There's a boat for st. Joe at
11:30," he said; II think we can catch
it."
The girl brought my rolls and cof-
fee. Bruce threw down some money,
and we went out from the little cafe,
but to return after a time-to sing,
to work, to paint, to starve together.
Chicago Tribune.