The daily morning journal and courier., 1902-01-24
A SWIFT RETRIRUTION.

The pretty young woman got home
 about 1 D. m. from her little shopping
 tour. She slipped on kimona, wrote a | letter or so, and then she began to feel
 a bit hungry. She had quite forgotten
 about luncheon. Her mother was out
 paying some calls, and it was the ser wants afternoon off
 The young woman put a finger to her 1 lip, wondering what little dainty she'd l fix up for her luncheon Suddenly a l sort of Wolfish light appeared in her l eyes. She stood up straight and tapped 1 her forehead,
 No" she murmured to herself, I've no place to go tonight. I shall spend 1 the evening at home reading my novel and playing papa's favorite pieces. This is my chance-and how I do love them, me oh my!"
 She went down the basement stairs almost guiltily. Her maner was that of a young woman about to do something sneaky understand At the bottom of the stairs she hesitated. No" she murmured again, there's no possibility of any one coming to take me cut tonight. Harry is,' etc, etc. The rest of the murmur was not distin- guishable, and it doesn't matter any how.
 She went to the kitchen cupboard and dragged out peach basket filled to the brim with fine sturdy-looking Bermuda onions-big, juicy ones.
 ''Um, what a chance!" breather the young woman, smackng her lips.
 She peeled two of the huge onions and sliced them into a saucer, regard ing them greedily as she did so. Then she went into the dining room and got the vinegar cruet and the salt and pep per and she vinegared and salted and peppered that heaping dishful of sliced onions to her taste Then she got out fresh loaf of bread and the butter and spread her luncheon out on the kitchen table
 Then she. sat down on a kitchen chair before the reflection.
 Then she did not do one single, soli- tary thing to those sliced onions and that bread and butter
 "Um, mercy on us, but ain't they nice, thought" she murmured, almost every time she stabbed into the onion dish with her fork. And haven't I been longing for em. too! I'd just rather sit here in the kitchen and eat sliced onions with vinegar and bread and butter than sit down to any old formal luncheon anywhere!"
 Then she eormandized. pondering on how good the onions tasted, and making up her mind that she intended to have them for her luncheon every future day on which she knew she was not going out in the evening. Thus ref1ecting, she peeled and sliced the third large onion 1 and ate it delightedIy
 She had just conveyed the last scrap of the final onion to her facial orif1ce 1 when the front door bell rang.
 "Oh, fudge," said the young woman, | as she rushed up stairs to answer the | bell, thinking that the ringer would | probably prove to be a peddler or can | Vasser or something similar.
 But the ringer of the bell was the young woman's chummf st and intimate girl chum.
 "Oh, Elvira," gasped the young wo- mans chummiest and intimatest girl chum, bursting breathlessly into the hall. "Tm just tickled foolish that I've found you at home! Jim, my New York brother, came down unexpectedly last night, and he's got box for the theater tonight, and lot of the incest boys are coming, and you must come, and what are you going to wear?"
 Then Elvira tottered to the sitting room couch and buried her face in the pillows She didn't join the box party. but she will never miss another box party on account of onions She has taken the pledge against them finally and forever.-Washing Star.