The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1903-03-19
ROMANCE OF CELLAR STAIRS.
CHAPTER |


The sun shines down on the farm;
The sun shines clear on the Hudson
But the sun doesn't mean any harm.
-Tcnnyson
4 wan and weary winter rrorn in jig
sersville.
Jiggersviil, is located pleasantly on the
Sitfast and Chewsmoke Railroad; hot
and cold sidewalks; no Inaiaria, except
that which is used - the tnwnsrccple,
and only corty minutes from the City
Hail
What City Hall?
Tush, don Re st in.;uis;tive This
OF a guide book is novel
CHAPER II.
She stood beneath the mistiat1e,
And, to his great surpriss,
She smiled beguilingly. and so
He thought he'd Hobsenze.
Richard Harding Davis.
Yes, il was morning in Jiggersville-a
wintrous morning, and the glaciers glis-
tened glamorouSly-
To the right ard left stretched a series
of Dyea trails, and the frozen tinkle OF
the milkmans bell could be heard off 10
the north on Chillikoot Pass.
Hidden far from human eyes by the
towering mounds of eternal snow the
milkman had paused to put up his prices.
CHAPTER III.
The shadows of the night now troop
Across the earth again;
A dark brown hand slips in the coop,
And yanks therefrom hen.
Songs OF Southern Life.
"Jaspar,''
'Hortense,''
Through frost coated eyelashes husband
and wife glanced shiveringly at each
other.
1T must be doner' he exclaimed at
length. biting deeply into the last ice
trimmed wheat cake.
Then he rose from the table.
Swapping on his sealskin slippers and
graspirg firmly his trusty alpenstock,
Jaspar Whiffletree kissed his loving wife
and children, and started on his peril
Gus mission to the icy depths of the
kitchen cellar.
Heaven prosper your the wife cried
passionately; may you strike pay DIRT.
With choking sob of farewell JaspaT
Whiffletree disappeared down the assures
in the front stairs.
CHAPTER ~.
Wee Johnny got big bass drum;
The folks now TO their beds take,
For John has noised them deaf and DUMB,
And father has the headache.
-Rudyard Kipling.
oh, the WEAKNESS of waiting.
THE hours seem sixty minutes long,
sighed the unhappy wife.
Would the water pipes burst, she Won
dered; or would the awful avalanche de-
scend from the summer Kitchens roof
and clasp him in its cold embrace?
She looked through the frost-bitten win
dow panes, and saw the Aurora Borealls
dancing lazily in the drOwsy sky.
And there, approaching, was a Polar
bear-all white and shaggy.
No. A second glance made the Polar
bear appsar a fat policeman, who had
been compelled. through the eXigencles or
cruel circumstances. TO use his nose as an
impromptu snow plough.
Oh, the unspeakable horrors of life in
the Junior Klondike,
The midnight sun burned dimly In the
sky. and still no word from the brave
husband who had gone forth prospecting,
CHAPTER V.
Where are you going, my pretty maid?
Under the mistletOe, sir" she said.
why should you do that my pretty
maid?'
you need some encouragement, sir -
she said.
Millions Paradise Regained."
Hark,
Dinna We hear the pibroch?
Was that the bark of hungry wolf
upon the staircase?
Heaven forbid!
1t is only the low, hoarse cry of the
dumbwaiter as it drops from its dizzy
height to the frozen depths below.
CHAPTER VI.
She hung her stocking up, and you
Should hear her joyous jaw go!
She found therein a house and lot,
But this was in Chicago.
Alfred Austin.
Leadenly the minutes roll along, roll
along.
Hours have passed, and still no word
from the brave Jaspar Whiffletree.
He and his Esquimau dogs may have
perished for the trail is white with win
ters wickedness.
But no: bark,
Hark againi
IT'S the voice of Jaspar Whiffletree
calling frozenly through the caverns of
| the cold
Nearer, nearer, nearer,
The ice crackles crunchingly under his
| feet-nearer. nearer, nearer,
He is at the sitting room door.
In an agony of joy he screams Saved
| Saved, Saved
Painting with delight the wife cries;
Coal, Coal, Coal, We are saved
Yes" the husband laughs hysteric-
| ally, lat least three shovels full We
are rich-rieh beyond the dreams of ava
| rice!
But. alas, Fortune does not smile upon
| all alike in the Nome near home.-Geo. V.
| Hobart, in " Y. Herald.