The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1902-07-10

She certainly would have declared that poet
was a wishy- washy specimen of humanity
and man who lisped worse than schoolboy
In love.
1t was different here at the resort however.
Within an hour he had not only made her
forget that Bessie was off with a party of
| young folks for "a long tramp. but had
| brought about radical change of her opin-
ions toward mankind. Mr. Bertrand was en-
tertaining he was deferential; he was suaye
/ and sentimental The guardian of the giddy
rose up after three hours "seance'' with a
heart cutie subdued by his charms. Yet
| she declared TO her wondering niece:
/ This is an altogether different case While
you are only a foolish girl, am settled
woman. =
But he writes poetry and Hsps.'' protested
the girl.
| What OF that? man with the soul Of q
/ poet must necessarily be a good man, and
lisp in ones speech may even be an attrao-
ton. Don't you worry about me-
Miss Bessie didn't worry. She was too
| delighted to be free from the Argus eyes OF
her chaperon. But she wondered what the
outcome of SO many tete-a-tetes would be.
| Things move swiftly at summer resorts.
| You either fall in love and want to know
| your fate within "a couple of weeks or you
| are out of it altogether. A girl with any
| pre.ensions to good looks expects to turn
down at least two offers a week. Aunt
Nancy was not girl. but the time came
when she knew that she was loved. She
had to realize 1T, because, sitting in a shad-
owy corner OF the veranda in their red rock
| ing-ehairs, with the moon shining and Bee-
sic in the parlor breaking the hearts of half
| a dozen young men, Claude Bertrand lisped
out the words.
Aunt Nancy was not surprised. She had
felt it coming, yet simply didn't know what
| te say in reply, Years before she had made
up her mind never to wed, but when the
| words of love were lsped out softly she
| was torn with conflicting emotions. She got
out of 1t by reserving her answer for week,
! and though the poet didn't see how he
| was to exist for seven long days, he finally
| agreed. G5
On the next evening hop was given at
| the hotel. Aunt Nancy was no hand to
| show off, but she had some fine diamonds
| in the hotel safe and she got them out for
| the occasion. She didn't care TO dance. and
the poet complained of a lame leg, and 30
| il happened that they paraded the Teranda
arm in arm and lisped sentiment.
| After a while they wandered out on the
| lawn to observe the moon, and he suggested
| a walk up the path to observe the shadows
She sighed, and he sighed, and by and by
/ they were a quarter Of a mile from the
scene of gayety and all alone on the path.
They had been silent for. moment when
| he turned to her and lisped: -. Il -.
! MISS NSSEulOFe, SouI oi0AiCaoS'
What do you mean" she asked.
IT wanth your diamonds. II you don tn
take them off and give them to be I'll choke
the life out of you!'' - T.
| .t,laude-Mr. Bertrand
Take then off. and do It damn quick:
Aunt Nancy removed her necklace, her
sunburst, her earrings and finger rings and
/ passed them over in a dazed way. The poet
crammed the plumber in his pocket and said:
| Now git for the hotel and don tn look
| back" .-ss "a ~ -. ~ F..
AUNT Nancy got to the hotel and up to
| her room. ....- ~ 49,.
Two hours later Bessie found her there
| looking pale-faced and dazed-- E-..-
| 80, aunt would you think it giddy OF me
if encouraged my fourteenth victim to pro
| pose?" she exclaimed. .... =
"No, DEAR slowly and solemnly answered
the guardian. Even If 1t was your twenty
eighth it wouldn't be giddy of .yeu!"