The Washington times., 1902-03-16
THE CHERRY -PARASOL.
By OWEN HACKETT.

high collar / can just conceal it:
but it extends from the neck
tclose by the iugular vein, too, my boy)
down over the shoulder quite to the
breastbone.
A tiger did that-a royal Bengal-and
beauty he was, tell you. You can
see the skin any day in my married sis
ter's sitting room.
But it's story quite worth telling,
and it has a funny side, too, that was
thought quite worth repetition at the
time in the English papers, though they
did not get at the inside facts of the ad
venture.
It was the period of the hot season
stagnation when we were in the con-
sular service at Madras. you know.
The English society Gncluding the few
Americans there) were doing little else
than sleep and yawn to pass the time.
But everybody, the men especially,
We're galvanized into excitement when
the news came that tiger had carried
off first a woman and then child during
the previous week from a station about
fifteen miles in the interior at the foot
of the mountains.
Time was when this would have been
a sort of everyday announcement in
India; but OF late years these monsters
had been killed off except far in the in
terror wilderness, and it had already be-
for of Tpl
fellows to issue from his jungle kingdom.
At any rate. things had got to such a
pass of mental torpidity that we needed
only the slightest straw to grasp at for
the sake of excitement.
In half an hour a hunt had been agreed
upon. and servants were flying every
where about the town to arrange the de-
tails and secure the accessories, such as
teams and wagons. native porters and
beaters, and in the cool of the evening
fifteen or twenty gentlemen sportsmen
were engaged in oiling gun locks, swab-
bing out rifle barrels and preparing gen.
orally for the morrow's expedition.
1t was just dawn on the following morn
ing when we started-a curious caval-
cade of fifty or more, in which the white
faces were largely in the minority. Some
were on horseback, some in carts drawn
by bullocks, which in that country, were
very different from what are known as
such at home.
About a mile from Madras there was a
little bungalow, commanding view of
the sea, which had become a sort of
house of public entertainment, popular
with the better class of residents as
resort for tiffins and such little excur-
sions as we would call picnics.
We had hardly entered the grove when
a siIvery feminine laugh greeted our
ears, coming from the direction of the
native house.
The major, beside whom l was riding,
perceptibly started at the sound and
glanced at me. / in turn looked enquir-
ingly at him.
Don't you recognize the voice?" he
asked.
NO, / can't say / do?" l answered.
Whose is it? Surely none of mine host
Singh's family have such sweet thrill.
Il should say not, decidedly" assented
the major. But / must be wrong If you
world like Miss Bradford's voice"
1 could not help looking quickly and
keenly at the major. Miss Bradford was
my sister and the major had certainly
been very attentive to her during the few
months of their acquaintance.
II he could recognize her voice in an
Indian jungle when her brother failed to
do SO there must be something serious
on the carpet.
/ therefore had a peculiar interest in
the Developments of the next few mo-
ments.
''It is positively cruel of you!" said an
other and a petulant voice. You make
no allowance for my extremely sensitive
organization. But / simply cannot go
back over that road; the mere thought
of It is killing, Hark! Don't you hear
something creeping out from the grove?"
and there arose shrill scream which be-
came hysterical as it seemed to diminish,
as If the feminine speaker had flown into
the cottage.
She had doubtless heard us breaking
through the-thicket. and in an instant
the head of our cavalcade came in full
view of the place, and there, sitting
calmly on seat before the door under
the overhanging boughs and looking ex-
pectantly but undismayed toward us was
my sister.
you herei" / exclaimed, really sur
prised. "And Miss Blithedale, too; / need
not ask that" l said glancing at an open
parasol OF flaming cherry that lay few
feet away on the ground where the fair
and nervous owner had dropped it in her
flight.
That parasoli In defiance of all the
scientists from Ben Franklin down, Miss
Blithedale must needs import from the
West a sunshade Of the color which above
all others reflected least the rays Of that
very orb.
This she imperturbabIy carried, shin
ing mark for derisiye jokes, or, perhaps,
as an incentive to well-born subaltern
bachelors In the arena Of love, she the
matador and they the quarry.
How penetrating you are!" was my
sisters ironical reply. Major. you are
Just in time. Miss Blithedale has Just
declared that she will not return to town
without the escort Of the whole garrison
- or of Major Gallanton, perhaps"
The Major looked almost panied at this
lllusion to the dead set that Miss Blithe-
THE SPEAk