The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1904-12-07
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

THE Pullman was hot and stuffy as
! is the way with trains on summer
days when running through the south
Srn belt and the thermometer ranges
IN the nineties.
Eunice and lassitude were the dis
ttnctive features of the mental atmos-
phere, and the people who sat in more
or less lounging attitude looking out
OF the window at the flying landscape
or attempting to read newspapers Tor
novels, in spite of the wailing Of sick
baby and the boisterous games and
still more oppressive squabbles of two
stout, well-dressed boys, were all more
or less glum and silent.
Scornfully Indifferent to their moth
,er's mild monstrations, Boys, do be-
have yourselves" which fell on deaf
ears where they were concerned, the
boys threw oranges at each other and
fought and scrambled and dashed down
the car in pursuit as they rolled under
the seat of a choleric, wbite-haired,
elderly gentleman, whose gold eye
glasses and air of Importance and gen
,eral appearances indicated clearly he
was a banker and financial magnate
IN his part of the world and accus-
toned to much differential treatment.
The only occupants of the Pullman
who seemed to take life humorously
and the heat and dust philosophically
We're few drummers, members of
that clever, capable and enterprising
fraternity, the splendid advance guard
and skirmish line of modern COM
merce, and handsome gfrl who sat
cool and unrutfied and calmly observ-
ant in her section to whom the antics
of the boys seemed to furnish much
suppressed amusement.
A miscellaneous collection of books
and Huylers, golf sticks, a mandolin
case and the ordinary hand baggage
OF young woman accustomed to lux
urlous living, surrounded her, and her
simple but effective travelling gown
made her distinctive feature, as many
were the glances, covert or otherwise,
thrown in her direction.
There was another occupant of that
section of the flying, rambling train,
q young man who sat in the last seat,
and who, staring in gloomy abstraction
out of the window, who took no notice
OF the baby, the boys, the banker or
even the young girl with the gray
eyes and smiling mouth, who certainly
was better to look at than the stretches
of marsh or forest through which they
passed the villages and bustling, thriv-
ing mill towns. whose tall factory
chimneys sent black, curling volumes
of smoke up into the breathless air
of the hot June day.
The man in the corner never moved
or stirred as the train sped on, and
the almost fierce look of his keen steel
blue eyes were certainly not fixed on
the straight, green lines of cotton and
corn in the fields which seemed to
turn and waltz by as they went by, or
the plowmen and groups of laborers
stopping work to gaze with dull Curl
osity at the faces in the car windows.
Whatever his mental vision saw was
certainly distressing and perplexing
picture, for his frown deepened and
the lines around his mouth grew hard
and stern as he worked at the appar-
emily unsolvable problem.
The many glances of curiosity and
admiration cast on the very pretty
girl were by no means enticed by her,
however great her Indifference might
be, but in her turn she threw more
than one look of puzzled scrutiny in
the direction of the gloomy, straight
cut profile in front of her, so plainly
outlined by the staring light of the
broiling June day.
ooh, dearie! How could you?" came
plaintively from the placid mother of
the rough, good-looking boys. as their
orange finally landed on the shoulder of
the brooding young man.
Cora Stanfield was not sorry, as it
made him turn his head to ascertain
where the onslaught came from, and
gave her very good view of face
very much beyond the ordinary, both
dn point of looks and character.
His smile was peculiarly attractive
she decided, as he nodded his accep-
IduCG u IUS 0ACuocS VI ZIG TWO Tcu-
haired boys, who openly declared that
he had intended to hit "that fellow
over there" meaning one of the drum
mers, who had been surreptitiously
kicking the orange in various direc-
tions out of reach whenever it rolled
near where he sat, with evident gus
to.
The result was that the young man,
Furgus Grey, his train of unpleasant
thoughts broken, got up and strobe
OFF to the sleeper, Cora supposed, as he
did not come back.
"Who is that man," Cora wondered.
II know his face, or l used to know
some one very much like him before we
went abroad 1t can't be Furgus?
That's impossible. He looks too old
and grave. Furgus and l had such
romps togettec years ago. What de-
testable teese re was. / remember how
furious he used to make me, although
I loved him dearly. Furgrs was al
ways a-gctting into scraps at school,
and giving Cousin Tom world of trou-
h1a h,,t -