Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1903-10-08

NTH MESSMORE, 1 wANTH YOUR DIA-
MoNDS"
love to thunderstorms. 1t was her duty
as a relative, as a guardian and as
woman to take care of the giddy young
thing
When Miss Bessie rebelled, she was
answered:
II must do my duty. Every girl Of
> COURAGE foolish Iad-aeSds- be
carefully watched"
Bessie flung herself down on the bed
to weep rebellious tears and wish she
hadn't come. There was an unusually
large number Of young men at the re-
sort, but, with the Argus eyes Of her
guardian following her about, she
couldn't even drop her handkerchief
on the veranda without coming in for
lecture.
She had her revenge, for the unex-
pected happened. Before the week was
up Miss Nancy herself had an ad-
mirer. During former seasons she had
made the acquaintance of ministers,
college professors and lecturers, but 1t
was acquaintance only. Now she was
A woman is never too old TO be fiat
tered. At home In her own parlor Aunt
Nancy would have turned up her nose
at Claude Bertrand. She certainly
would have declared that poet was a
wishy washy specimen Of humanity
and man who lisped worse than n
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 party Of young folks for a
long tramp, but had brought about a
radical change Of her opinions toward
mankind. Mr.. Bertrand was enter
tanning; he was deferential; he was
suaye and sentimental. The guardian
Of the giddy rose up after three
hours "seance" with heart quite sub
dued by his charms. Yet she de-
clared to her wondering niece:
This is an altogether different cnse.
While you are only foolish girl, am
a settled woman"
"But he writes poetry and lisps,"
protested the girl.
"What OF that? A man with the
soul Of a poet must necessarily be
good man, and lisp In ones speech
may even be an attraction 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 won
dered what the outcome OF 40 many
tete-a- -tetes would be.
Things move swiftly at summer re-
sorts. You either fall In love and want
to know your fate within couple Of
weeks or you are out OF IL altogether.
a girl with any pretensions to good
looks expects to turn down at least
two offers per week. Aunt Nancy was
not girl, but the time came when she
knew that she was loved. She had TO
realize II, becauae sitting In shadowy
corner OF the vcrapdA In their red rock.
ps chairs, " ith the moon shining and
Becsie In the parlor breaking the
hearts Of half dozen young men,
Claude Bertrand lisped out the words.
Aunt Nancy was not surprised. She
had felt 1t coming, yet simply didn't
know what 10 say in reply. Years be
fore she had made up her mind never
to wed. but when the words OF love
We're lisped out softly she WAS torn
with conflicting emotions. She got out
OF it by reserving her answer for a
week, and, though the poet didn't see
how he was 10 exist for seven long
days, he finally agreed.
On the next evening hop was given
at the hotel. Aunt Nancy was no hand
to show Off, but she had some fine dla-
monds In the hotel safe, and she got
them out for the occasion. She didn't
care to dance, and the poet complained
Of lame leg, and 30 1t happened that
they paraded the veranda arm In arm
and lisped sentiment.
After awhile they wandered out on
the lawn to observe the moon, and he
suggested a walk up the path to OBJ
serve the shadows. She sighed, and
he sighed, and by and by they were II
quarter OF a mile from the scene OF
gayety and all alone on the path
They had been silent for u moment
when he turned 20 her and lisped:
NTH Messmore, | wanth your dia-