The Kalispell bee. [volume] (Kalispell, Mont.) 1900-192?, 1902-12-26

out again through the crumbling gray
of the cinder gate.
A few yards from the gate stood my
Scotchman, smilingly nobby in his light
suit of tweed.
''I'm glad I'd zee you,' beamed.
"And l to see you," returned he
"Stand right still there where you are.
Turn sidewise a little want to take
snapshot of you"
But here's herd of goats. They
are around me in swarms. They'll take
me for goat herdess."
ut doesn't make q particle of differ
ence. Stand still. Will you come into
the picture?' This to the Elderly Lady,
who in Il fatigued way leaned against
the gatepost of Pompeii.
mo, thank YOU she declined and
disappeared within.
''Do you know" | began when the
ordeal was over, I'm lonesome as an
owl in that old pension of mine at Ma
Piles. My room is so big it echoes half
an hour when 1 cough, and the moon
light comes streaming in at the win
dows and streaming. 1t stays there all
night on the floor. 1t gives me the
blues. I'm half dead with the blues.
| That's ALL"
Though | spent some subsequent hours
in the endeavor to fathom the mystery,
the reason of my breaking out in this
absurd and childlike manner was al
ways past my comprehension. Per-
haps it was because of the glow of
sunshine leaking on him, or because
he smiled, or because he had an air so
free from care that the temptation to
free myself of mine proved irresistible
never could tell.
He responded readily, as l was sure
he would.
"Come to see us, them" he said. eve
are on the same street, at the Grand
hotel. 1t is not five minutes walk.
Come tonight. Can't you"
81 can" l assented. "Who shall
ask for?'
"Ask for Mrs. Webster" said he, "the
Elderly Lady"
81 will" promised, "Goodby, then,
till tonight
Raising his cap he entered Pompeii,
and l, finding my cabby, went on home
over the long, gray road of the poor to
Naples.
That night, circling the magic moon
lit beach, | entered the Grand hotel,
ran up to where the palms and the mu-
sic were and presented my card for
Mrs. Webster, the Elderly Lady.
Accustomed TO see them in tourists
garb, l was somewhat surprised at
their elegance, the ladies beautifully
dressed and the men in TuXedos
was glad that 1, too, had worn my
best
My surprise was pIeasurably aug
mented by their reception of me. With
true Scotch hospitality they ordered
refreshments-their guest must break
their bread--and seated cozily about a
small table, they chatted gayly to the
accompaniment of stringed instru-
ments tuned to the key of conversa-
ton.
Have you been to Milan yet" asked
my Laird. He was interested in
where / had been and what | had
seen, as if he had known me always.
lost the feeling of loneliness as he
talked.
mot yet" 1 replied. I'm going
home that way"
ITS not much worth seeing" he in
formed me- Like Rome, with it's
Coliseum propped up by modern
bricks, it is practically ruined, great
modern town with street cars. There's
the cathedral the Last Supper and
the crematory Above all things you
must see the crematory."
l knew some funny crematory sto-
ries. l told them. One went we'll
Chauncey Depew's story of the widow
who had cremated three husbands,
and her friend the old maid, who de-
plored the fact that while she had
never been able to scare up a single
husband that widow had had hus-
bands to burn.
They laughed at that, but the sec
| opI-pf opotbp, widow vy,bo ,,o1o tbo