davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1904-01-31
:: :: CUPID ON THE WIRE: Bye c KENNISH :: !:

a ripple of laughter. then mischiev-
Gus voice replied:
''Sevens"
oh. come now" expostulated the
Englishman, you're not telling the
truth. YOU know"
Harold never taught you that. I'm
sure
But you're laughing at me up your
sleeve. really now. aren't you?"
NO. Mr.. Churchill. because-wen. be-
cause it would be a physical impossi-
bility" Another ripple of laughter
from Brooklyn. and the Englishman has
a mental vision Of a negligee that dis
plays ps:T of dimple elbows. Again
his impstent hands clench the air.
Put. Miss CHAMBER. tell me the size
please. and-mayn't /, bring them?"
''I have told you. and certainly not. -
But you don't wear sevens. you know.
can tell that by your Voice.
How expressive my voice must be.
1T is indeed; it has told me number
OF things.
What. for instance"
''Weli. that you are small and slender.
and have gray eyes with curly black
lashes''
"Oh. I'm sorry my wicked voice has
told you such untruths. for I'm six feet
and 1 weigh 200 pounds. Now do you
want me to come to tea?"
There was a gasp from New York;
then laugh from Brooklyn
"oh! you're Joking, announced the
Bnglishman at last, in a relieved tone.
when. somewhat tardily. he had dis
covered that fact.
mo. indeed; never joke-with an
Englishman"
"And. besides. you forget that Haroid
has a picture of YOU
Taken when I was six; I've grown
since then"
Suddenly there was a peal of laughtsr
from Brooklyn.
"oh! I should like TO have SEEM oe
when confided these-ststistics %
you just now
The Englishman glanced down at his
very informal costume.
well perhaps it's just as well you
didn't. Miss CHAMBER he said
But please proceed with your por-
trait. Mr.. Churchill This grows inter
esting. Perhaps CsarcasticaIly) you
can tell from my voice what color ms
hair is. too
II can ttriumphantly); it's golden. .
$50 I have a golden voice. laughed
the girl in Brooklyn.
Yes said the Eng;ishman. growing
{ bolder. land a silver laugh"
''why. I'm perfect klondike. am !
not? But. really. Mr. Churchill. I think
you've had quite enough of my voice
this morning. Suppose I give you a
I taste of silence for a change. That's
said TO be golden. also. Good"
but. Miss Chanler why mayn't ]
can?" pleaded the voice in New York
as last resort.
You may. when Harold is able to
bring you; not before. Why. we haven't
even been introduced
"And the doctor says he won't be
about foe weeksy' groaned Churchill.
a parse; then the Englishman an
nounced excitedly.
Il have an idea"
! mo, really?'' CThe voice in Brooklyn
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1904-01-31

native among his friends could suspect
what he had it in mind TO do. He was
going to Yorkshire for a months fish
ing" But. for some time now. the pO-
sition must have seemed to Colonel
Sale to have a hopeless look. He had
lost hard upon $4,000 in a few months:
his means were narrow, and, after call
ing in all but assurances, he was in
debt for three impossible thousands
still.
To give up honor and life was doubly
futile. But what had determined him
was the necessity of saving something
for his wife and boys He said good-by
to them in the morning. Let those who
share his-temperament be Colonel Sales
Judges! Granted his point of view,
there must have beer something beau
tifuIIy tender and brave in the light
farewell. and yet one does not care to
think of it.
Pass to certain reflections of the jour
ney. They had some bearing on the
sequel. with only few days to live.
and with the sense of mestery which
every calm resolution gives. Colonel
Sale was more than usually clear
headed. although his heart lsbored. and
scenes from the old past ran mostly in
bis thoughts. In particular he was
struck by recollections of a college
friendship and of boys conversation
which pointed to his present case. II
was the most intimate and lasting
friendship he had known. and he would
have liked to say good-by TO Jack AL
Ieyn. Dear old fidus Achates. matter-of-
fact and gay and kind. What in these
last few years had become of him? He
might even have shown a better way
with debts of honor. He always die
know the right thing to do. and did II
with turn of the hand. When they
were mere boys, Jack once boosted
lightly that he would undertake.
All. happy time. In a fash the scene
returned. 1t was in the great holidays
on a night of sentiment and philosophy
things they did not know by any such
names. and talked nevertheless on al
occasions. There was badger. While
it was out they had stopped the earths
and they lay among bracken, and rocks
on the edge of a Yorkshire moor wait
ing for it. The moonlit dale was roman,
tic. bat not Jack. and they were talking
J of ghosts. Touching to remember how
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1904-01-31

GAINST his will Colonel Sale
~ was playing one more hand.
4 \ He played at all times very
quietly. so far as card table manner
is concerned. and tonight he was some
times mildly humorous. His preoccupa-
tion could not be imagined. But 1t
deepened during the final rubber. and,
far away in thought from PiccadiIly.
he heard the Strid roar at Bolton. in
lovely Wharfedale That was a place
where a man might easily seem TO die
by misadventure.
The game being ended, he pushed the
cards away with a smile. Some sense
OF embarrassment lay upon the other
players. His luck had been worse than
common. he was pleasant officer. and
everybody knew him to be ''hipped -
He wrote in his neat hand upon the
back of visiting cards an 81. q u for
each member OF the party. while they
were paying cash or checks. His refined
and tranquil face was flushed a little;
the act brought home to him a very
disagreeable sense Of his position.
He reverted to a conversation which
had passed before the game began. ''You
are All very good fellows to wait" he
said. I'm sorry I haven't at all the
same faith ~ my chances
His constituencies provoked a friendly
murmur and some light encoura cenoents
When man is ''off his luck he cannot
do better than so away and forget it
In the -high-priced club where the colo
mel played above his purse worse luck
than his had been known to right. it
self. f..-r.
Col Arthur Sale was a man of no ex-
cesses but. this of gambling; middle
aged. a good soldier. with some reputa-
tion as traveller and sportsman
While yet lieutenant he had made tive
Independent journeys in the Soudan
about the time OF the first Mahdis rise
TO power His resolute courage hac
been attested then and since; the ,rega1
laritS Of his life was of Iate Ssonfiru1e,
by a happy marriage and men know
him for a nice sense of honor and excel
lent temper, taste. and social tact
These last qualities were. best observed
I'm his duller moods. when a speeia
gentleness appeared in him.
Few men were better liked and. az
commonly happens. not the most imagi
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1904-01-31

chalet with the bird the cage was
placed in a large window i'm one Of the
drawing rooms. The window opened TO
the sun. and to the fragrance and green
cry of the garden. But not note. not
sound came from the melancholy
thrush. 1t dropped and hung it's head
as if molting. They fed. they whistled,
they coaxed: but it remained motion
less and moping.
The artist was indignant. He mad not
really pressed the old people to sell
their bird; he had given them double
the sum named. and now, II was not
in his nature to be suspicious. but it
certainly looked as II another thrush
had been palmed off upon him in place
of the magnificent songster he had
heard that morning.
However. he gave the bird several
days trial At length, patience was ex-
hausted. and he cent for its late owner
to remonstrate with him upon his de-
ception.
When Pierre finally came. the artist
happened to be in his drawing room
hanging UP a pair OF fine antlsrs. In
the center OF the room stood a round
table. on whose black marble surface
lay huge bunch OF ferns. The artists
little daughter was arranging them for
various vases. and the sunlight which
fiickered in through the Venetian blinds
played upon her pretty white hands and
made the green ferns look golden.
Carolyn" said the man. who was
just putting the finishing touches to his
serious business OF antler-hanging, you
may go out and bring the old peasant
in. and I'll give him such a talking to
that he won't venture upon another dis
honest dealing with an Englishman in a
hurry
Pierre trudged heavily into the room.
hat in hand, and the artist turned
around. armed with some righteous re-
buke
But neither he nor Pierre was allowed
TO speak: for no sooner had the old man
made his appearance I'm the room than
the thrush Ieaped down from its perch.
Tapped it's wings joyously and burst
into so triumphant a song that the
whole roor, seemed to vibrate with its
melody.
! What. Chrysostome lie jolt Chrysos-
| tome said the old man. going UP close
to the wicker cage. you haven't for
| gotten me. them"
Forgotten him, indeed, The bird ex-
| tended its slender body. expanded its
soft chest and filled its little lungs. It's
song Of greeting rose upon the voluble
air with the splendor OF invisible color
and the artist found himself thinking.
And all the while IT kept moving from
side to side In the cage-dancing with
JOY. one might say.
| Yes, there could be no doubt about IL;
! Il was the same bird that had so charm,
! ed the ears Of the artist and his little
daughter at the foot Of the hill near
Champrosay But. like the Hebrew cap
! tives. it had not been able to sing its
songs in a strange land.
you can have your bird. my old
man" the artist said with a smile. And
then, 20 Carolyn;
I'VE would not part such loving
friends for boxes of bon-bons. would we,
! dear?"
SO off together they trudged. happy
Pierre and Chrysostome, Chrysostome
| stiIl in full song. And Babel wept for
JOY at their return.-New York Press.
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1904-01-31
BABET'S SACRIFICE: By VIRGINIA LEILA VENT

ant would smile cheerfully and would
wisely shake his head.
Monsieur is kind to suggest. But. no
no. We have been happy here. my wife
and J. This is our place in the world,
and here we viii live till the good God
says Come. Even ttfeu-ahs you will
laugh. monsieur. but l will tell you
what ] say to my wife. ! say. Babel.
let US pray that the good God will per-
NIT US TO have in His heaven just such
a cottage as this
May your wish be fulfilled the art
lists would reply before going their way.
That was some years back. Now
well, they are still happy. Pierre and
Babet Have they not each other, and
have they not their little brown thrush
to cheer them? But. beyond doubt,
they are very poor.
Our roses are adorable this summer.
adOrable-is it not so. my Pierre?''
Babel accompanied her quickly sum-
moned smileswith this CHEEKY remark as
the old man turned round after his
bird-feeding. The thrush had continued
its warbling and was again sending
forth a food of song.
''Oh, listen, father Did you ever hear
such singing7" 1t was a child VINO
spoke. and she clutched at the mans
sleeve to arrest his attention The man
was an English artist, who had just
-ovto5 60, The s,,n,p,ar a uraffv coo,1et-
fish French chalet two miles beyond.
did you ever hear such singing?" re-
peated the child enthusiastically.
The man confessed that he had not
In the woods of Senart, near the chalet
they had taken. there were chOirs OF
thrushes. blackbirds. and other song
sters. but not one Of these three war
bIers could be compared for fullness of
melody to this captive bird, hanging up
there among the vines. The two stran-
gers remained on the road listening for
some seconds; then the man walked up
toward the cottage. made the acouaint-
ance Of the old couple. and asked If they
would be willing 10 parts with the
thrush.
no. oh. no. monsieur" said Pierre.
decidedly. I'VE couldn't get along with
out Chrysostome."
But Babel did not speak At first
rather blank look came over her face.
This darkness quickly gave place to a
look OF agitation. Of distress. She clasp
"a her hands narvo,,sly and work ed her
fingers A vision of Burgundy and 9th
er dainties for her Pierre had suddenly
foated across her, vision.
II would give you a fair price for the
bird the stranger went on. II would
like to have It for my little daughter.
In fact. you may name your own price. "
Pierre was about TO repudiate the Of
fer again when he caught Babet's eye
she was already speaking:
and monsieur's little daughter would
be very good to the bird?' She lifted
up her worn. gentle face. and eyed him
anxiously. Poor Pierre hesitated and
stumbled a little before he was able
20 stammer vaguely:
you are going to sell our .Chrysos.
tome. Babet?''
Eyes. yes" she said decidedly But
she gave her head a sort OF helpless
nod. and looked down at her blue apron
The artist paid double the sum named
and said he would send a servant that
afternoon to claim his purchase.
When, the servant arrived at the
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1904-01-31

That's the trouble; that's just
I'm sure you must consider our fam
fly a great nuisance" the voice in
Brooklyn hastily interrupts. First, you
invite Harold to spend the night. and
he's inconsiderate enough to develop ty-
phoid on the spot and remain two
months. Then his cousin nonopolizes
your mornings at the telephone making
inquiries about HIM
"A nuisance. Miss Chanler.'' expostu-
lates Churchill. as. soon as he is allowed
to put in word quite the contrary.
L assure you =
And you have been good enough TO
answer my calls in person. too. which
hsslbeen so much more satisfactory to-
mother"
Yes, and to-er-Harold. too"
Harold is mothers only nephew. and
she quite dotes on him. But won't de-
tain you any longer. Mr.. Churchill. Give
Harold mothers and my love and con-
gratulations. Good-b-"
But. Miss Chanlerr' CThe English
man clenched the air in his desperation
elusive voice. Wait minute please"
Of ne could only hold the wire-and the
little person at the other end of it-nor
figurstively, but actually. in both his big,
strong handsD IT want to assure you
| that-you don't know how I've looked
forward to these-these talks with you.
Why. the days have seemed forty-eight
hours long. at Last. and =
How bsnai it sounded when he put 1t
into words-especially when uttered to
an uninspiring wooden instrument. and
with the possibility confronting him OF
his ardent avowal being poured into the
ears of Central or of an incidental
butcher or bake,,
/ He paused. There was an appalling
silence. Cbut a keen ear might have de-
tected mischfevous little gurgIe at the
/ Brooklyn end OF the wire).
Are you still there, Miss CHAMBER"
! No answer: a series OF despairing
'helloes" and then:
| II think we were cut off, Mr.. Church-
I III: what was it you were saying?"
came, in an innocent voice, from Brook
/ Ign.
Churchill repeated his declaration, but
| without enthusiasm.
Really. I'm afraid you've been learn
ing the reprehensible American habit of
hattery-from Harold. I suppose. You
mustn't allow him to teach you any of
his naughty tricks. And now 1 really
must say good-b--"
But. Miss Chanler, you haven't kept
your promise You know you said you'd
come and take tea with-Harold-some
time; and (suggestively) he's going
today"
Thank you so much, Mr.. Churchill
but-I'm very sorr.'-it's impossible. Mis-
fortunes never come singly. you know
and mother has srained her ankle.
But couldn't you get some one else
to chaperon you?"
81 am afraid not. 1 don't know soul
a married soul. 1 riean. You see. VIZ
only came back from Europe last month
and we were over there so long We are
almost aliens in our own country"
There was a silence. during which the
| Engllshman put his rather slow wits e
work to try TO solve the difficulty.
"Well-about our bet on the yacht
| race he said at last. I've lost, u
course. What size do you wear?'
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1904-01-31

IT, ROM the summit of a certain am
r. pie hill near Champrosay the
i view is rarely beautiful and has
inspired many a. poet and painter But
this story is not concerned with the
landscape. At the foot OF the hill. in, the
winding. picturesque valley. stands a
rough. weather-beaten cottage. 1t has
stood there for years and years, and the
woods OF senart. opposite. look down
upon it with a leng-recognized comrade-
ship.
The cottage is not empty. oh. no. in
deed, Thatcan be attested easily enough
by the white muslin curtains. coarse but
clean. that hutter in the tiny. open win
dowss and. also. by abe prettsE, roses
that bloom on every side. Old-fashioned
roses. all. with names that seem to
carry something of scent and glow in
their very syllables; there is the climb
ing Provence rose vine. an abandon OF
plump pinkness; the yellow Byzantine in
its glad profusion. and there are the
little Burnet roses. cream and red.
Out OF the open cottage door come
two figures-an old brown man and an
old gray weman. the man in cordu-
roys. the woman wearing neat white
cotton cap and blue apron. They
move with the burdened gait or French
peasants. but there is ever a smile upon
their lips. For they are lovers. this
old, bent man and his wife And they
have been lovers for more than two
score years
No sooner have they come into view
than a burst OF exquisite melody greets
them. shrill and sweet. piercingIy sweet
now diving. swallow-wise, into tender
varbIings nuting OF liquid eadences:
now fastening TO ascend. soaring high
and higher in eager. joyful ecstasies.
Then one sees what one has failed to
observe before. UP among the yellow
egIantine and the climbing Provence
rose vines hangs a wicker cage contain
ing thrush.
''Chrysostome, le jolt Chrysostome"
says the old man. approaching the cage.
Good morning. chrysostome He
feeds the bird out OF small store OF
ninet with which he has filled his
pocket Babel. his wife. watches him
furtively for second. and as she sees
his crippled movements she signs TO
herself:
my poor Pierre. he grows weary
every day. II only had some rich
Burgundy to give him. But. helas. we
are poor. Well the good God knows
what he does"
A. Pierre turns around Babet dis
misses the worried expression from hel
nervous little face. and summons tbs
ever-ready smile
They had not always been poor, this
loving old couple-not SO very poor. al
least Before the rheumatism. had set
tied down upon him. when he had the
use Of his strong, willing limbs. Pierre
had gotten along very comfortably will
his modest bit OF farming In that fertil,
valley. often the artists. who would
hang around the hills Of Cbamprosa,
with their easeis and canvas as the
bees hang around the clover. woal1 say
to him.
"Why do you not move into town and
work? You would make much NOR,
money in a town. Now, beyond the
woods there. at soisy. for example.
know a baker
But the broad-shouldered. hearty peas
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1904-01-31
\ SUNSHINE THOUGHT.

Perhaps you feel ike signing. dear:
Just check the sigh and smile,
And cheer some wayworn wanderer
I Ger many a weary mile.
"A kindly word. a loving smile.
Great blessing doth bestow;
The power they have 10 caarm. away
= heavy load of woe
Alas. the many aching hearts
Along the circling years.
Tho there be dearth OF ali things else
kIs never dearth of tears.
Then put aside thy griefs. dear heart.
Nor grudge a smile 10 dole;
Twill cheer thine own sad lot and
bless a.1tr 3
AS we'll thy neighbor's soul
It's mot the costly gift bestowed
That cheers the aching heart;
1t IS the kindly sympathy.
II is loves magic art
And blessed shall thy memory be.
Tho naught thou hast to give
But kindly words and loving smiles.
Anil 10, thy soul shall live.
-Ingar ingram.
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1904-01-31

HE telephone bell rang. and Will
kinson started TO answer It,
4 "Er-drop that receiver. Will
kinson. at once.'
The command came from tall. pa
jamaed apparition in the doorway.
Wilkinson. who had seen his master.
not five minutes before. wrapped in the
arms OF Morpheus, and who knew his
aversion to arising before .. neverthe-
less-well-trained servant that he was
yielded the receiver TO Churchilrs i'm
patient hand without allowing the
slightest trace of surprise to show in
his face.
He could not, however. repress slight
smoker as the following half of the
dialogue that ensued penetrated to the
room where he was preparing his
masters bath:
~what?'
Yes. I'm holding the wire"
"Oh. no; no apologies necessary. Tell
the lady not to hurry
Yes. I'm still holding the wire"
Finished? No. Central; haven't even
begun yet"
Yes. I'm holding it,
What It isn't a Iady?'
who the-Robinson & Smith? Who
are they? Butchers? Well. what the
devil do I care whether you send sweet
breads or Here. Wilkinson, this cali
is for you. I fancy" and Churchill threw
down the receiver in disgust. and strobe
off to finish his toilet
A few minutes later the bell rang
again. This time the discreet Wilkin-
son. contrary TO his usual silent habit
was splashing the water about noisily
which. of course. drowned the tinkle in
the hall. and served him as an excuse
was evidently audible in ChurchnTs bed
chamber. for Wilkinson could hear his
master making his way into the hall,
leaving trail Of overturned chairs and
Yes. this is 200 Thirty-eighth Street:
1892 Brooklyn? Oh. yes. Yes. I'm hold
ing the wire
1t was evidently the call this time.
Wilkinson softly closed the door.
Good morning. Miss Chanler," the
conversation at the phone continued
Good morning 0he voice that re-
piled to Churchill was low and musical;
quite pleasing contrast tc the usual
American voice. the Englishn.an had de-
cided the first time he had heard it,
How is the patient this morning.
I'm sorry to say-er. / mean. of
course, glad to say that he is much bet
ter. In fact Cregretfully) the doctor
says he's to be taken home today"
"And you are lonely at the mere pros
pect! Your voice sounds quite desolate
Mr.. Churchill. Shall you miss Harold Sc
much?"
"Miss-er-Harold? Oh-oh. yes. OF
course. Yes. 1 shall miss-Harold-aw-
fully"
You've grown so much attached to
him since he's been Ill, suppose?'
"oh. yes. indeed. I've grown wonder
fully attached to-er-Harold.
but it's an III wind that blows no.
body good, for when he leaves shall
not be bothering you with my daily re-
quests for bulletins as to his health
The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1904-05-08
FUNERAL INVITATIONS.

OLDMEYER - The relatives ana
friends Of Mrs. Annie Oldmeyer and
of Mr.. and Mrs. H. H. Dixon and of
Mr.. and Mrs. W. Benson are invited
to attend the funeral OF the former
from her late residence. No. 1909 West
Broad street at o'clock this Sunday
afternoon. Interment at Laurel Grove
Cemetery.
The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1904-05-08
MEETINGS.

GOLDEN. RULE. LODGE. No.. ~.
I. O. o. L.
The members of this lodge will
meet at lodge room this day. p. m,
10 unite with Mistletoe Camp Wood
men Of the World in unveiling monu-
ment erected by them to the memory
of their and our late brother c.
Fraser Law.
BY order OF the Lodge.
]. c. SIPPLE, n. G.
JAS. s. SILVA. See'y.