Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1904-07-09
CO HE Reverend Boswell Holland


sat alone in his study. The room
which, though small, had been
dignifed with the name Of study. was
the best and pleasantest room in the
house, and In 1t were drawn together
all the best that the house afforded
here Yves the prettiest paper and the
best carpet, the only lounge, the east
est rocking chair, the gayest table
cover, the best lamp, and the prettiest
ornaments, all gathered here by his
young wife's unself1sh devotion, and
her husbands devoted selfshness.
A tall, stout, well-made, ford young
man, never intended by nature for any
sedentary life; one whose broad Shout
ders and strong arms would have made
a better and healthier man of him in
the field or workshop; one who ns a
farmer or machinist might have made
something of his muscular inheritance,
but who had beon thrust into d posi-
ton he was wholly untitled for by
the weak ambition Of doting mother
and the vanity and self-indulgent in
dolence Of his own character.
A gentle step, timid deprecating
tap at the study door. Eyes right
attention" In one moment, like a SOL
der on drill, the reverend gentleman
had wheeled into position at the table,
snatched up pen, dipped 1t into the
ink, and held it suspended over the
paper, as he said in the half-annoyed
tones of person suddenly disturbed in
some absorbing train Of thought:
you can come in"
Softly the door was pushed atar,
and a sweet young face, fair and fresh
as an apple blossom, and framed in
braids of soft brown hair, peeped tim
idly in.
"Quite alone, dear?" she asked,
glancing round the apartment; and
then satisfied that he was so, the wife
came ina girlish figure, though one
arm clasped her sleeping baby to her
bosom; in the other hand she bore a
small tray with snowy white cloth.
Pausing a moment on her way to de
post the child among the cushions of
the lounge, she came to her husband s
side.
What have you got there, Lucy?"
he said In .half-reproachful tones,
though his eager eyes contradicted his
assumed indifference.
"Only little lunch for you, doar,"
said the little wife, coaxingly, and she
removed the desk and set the lGle
tray before him.
You silly child! what is it?" Lucy
raised the cover and revealed a small
Juicy beefsteak, temptingly cooked, a
biscuit, and a cup Of steaming tea.
"Oh, have not any appetite; do not
want It," said the husband. making
very faint demonstration of pushing 1t
from him.
Eyes, you do, dear; know best.
Did not you tell me yourself that
labor was more exhausting than any
other? Take a little sip Of the tea
first, dear, and maybe that will bring
an appetite"
you are little goose, Lucy" said
the Reverend Boswell, as he took the
cup from her hand; and so, just to
please the affectionate little thing, he
ate and drank all she had provided
and he did 1t, too, just as II he relish
ed every mouthful. You would never
have guessed he did not relish 1t. Oh,
he was such a good man! And Lucy
sat by, delighted that her idol had
condescended to accept her meat and
drink offerings.
There now; these poor, dear, tired
brains will feel all the better" she
said, laying her soft hand carelessly on
his low brow. eft IL too bad for you
to sit here, hard at work. all this love
ly day; but tell me. have you worked
very hard this morningT
"Well, no, not very" said the self
convicted idler. "It Is too warm to do
much"
Warm here, dear" said Mrs. Hol-
land, glancing round the cool, fresh,
orderly little room, and contrasting 1t
with the kitchen, the heated scene OF
her own labors. Then 1t must be be-
cause you feel weak; do your