Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1902-11-19

back she said: ITS train time, Mr..
Maurice" with a pouting little grim
ace); you know / love to see the trains
go past. The Overland side-tracks
here, and I'd like to look at the people.
Then you might see somebody you
know"
He laughed again at her childlike
curiosity, and they paced down the
street toward the station. The Over
land whistled as they rode into the
space by the depot and down by the
side-track where the red water tank
steamed in the burning sunlight. He
thought she looked very beautiful as
they waited there, for he was accus-
toned to the rough buckskin gloves she
always wore, and he knew that the
grace which made her home-spun gown
seem picturesque and appropriate was
none Of the dressmaker's art. The
choking sand swept down from the red
mesa and busted her ebon hair as it
fluttered abroad in the blistering wind.
started and trickled down her brown
cheeks made muddy streaks upon her
handkerchief as she wiped them away.
The train, groaning and trembling,
as it slowed down past them, brought
with it tornado of dust and paper
that hid from him the sweet mouth
Of the girl beside him, but when he
looked up he saw that his face was
near the window of a private car.
Within he could see the white and sill
YER splendor of the travelling palace.
In the sconces Of the walls We're cut
flowers end lush vines trailing between
the windows. AS the hiss of the engine
ceased he could hear the tinkling music
of a serenade that he had not heard
since he left New York.
Lets ride up to the forward win
dow, Miss Eulalle," he said. Some
body is playing the piano."
When they were opposite the window
they could See woman seated at the
instrument, but as their shadows fell
across the light she rose and came,
facing them, as if to draw the shades.
Eulalie saw the lily whiteness of her
face, the great blue eyes, the yellow
hair, the soft, light hand that rested an
instant on the windows sill. She
must have dreamed the smile, it was so
beautiful, and the voice, bell-lke and
tender, as the lady raised the sash,
and beaming like the morning, said:
"Oh, Maurice, Maurice, that is you,
isn't it,"
Eulalie had not turned her eyes to
him before Swinton was down, flushed,
eager and trembling. He held out the
end Of his bride to Eulalie and she
took it mechanically, her lips apart,
wondering as she always wondered
The angelic face had vanished from
the window and Maurice had gone into
the car, but Eulalie sat there in the
furnace breath Of the sun and held his
pony. She did not hear the locomotive
bell nor the voice from the platform
shouting "All aboard" She was yet
dreaming. But the windows slipped
silklly past her, and presently she was
staring after the rushing cars, yet won.
dering if Maurice would tell her some
stories about this fairy, the first that
she had ever seen from that wonder
land of his. But though she waited
for an hour, he did not come back.
She asked the stationmaster if he had
left the train. Nobody had seen him
since he and she had been sitting on
their ponies together.
"The next stop east is Brussels" said
the agent. "If he gets off there he'll
be back on the night local"
So she left his pony at the depot,
rode slowly home through the dust,
and came back to the night local. He
did not come. He never came to Elk
ton since, and Eulalie no longer won-
ders. She knows.-John II. Raftery, in
the Chicago Record Herald.