Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1904-08-17
a. LIT TILE
BACHELOR GIRL
By Ernest De Berrs- Hauser.

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1t was an ideal retreat, the coolest
little cottage, with lawn that was
the material reproduction of one of
the many rustic little hooks Lettie
Mansfield had often pictured in her
mind.
"How fortunate the impulse seized
me before this place was let" she
thought, as she diligently applied her
self to the task of bringing order out
Of chaos, for as yet the appointments
Of her little home were in hopeless
tumble. IF the men keep bachelors
hall, when housekeeping is so utterly
foreign to the poor things, why
shouldn't girl, who would be in her
proper element? What an ideal home
this would be, Tiff there was hus-
band, and, by and by, little children.
Oh, MY but mustn't think of such
things. The cooling of a sweet little
baby will never supplant the clatter
Of the typewriter in my ears; | am
quite sure Of that. But-ah, we'll"
She had taken framed inscription
from the table, and mounting chair
she hung it on the wall. Cali things
take place by inevitable necessity
'"There is some consolation in that,
she thought, eff one can only school
ones self to believe it."
AS Lettie had but little time at her
command-in the morning before go
ing to work, and in the evening on
returning from it-she had not yet
found the opportunity to bestow any
attention on the exterior of the prem
ises. The dense clusters of roses and
lilac bushes trailing to- the ground,
and the rank vegetation and untrim-
med shrubbery, though giving the
place an air of solemn grandeur, also
bespoke neglect, which was readily
accounted for by a signboard nailed
to one of the trees. This board the
agent had neglected to remove, and
it was to this remissness on his part
that Lettie was indebted for an adven-
ture, and the subsequent realization
Of her most cherished hopes.
AS in Lettie's case, it was sudden
impulse that prompted Earl Stanford,
artist. with a firm of Iitho graphers,
to seize his hat very abruptly one eve
ming and betake himself to the SUI
burbs of the city. He was tired Of
life at hotel. He yearned for the
privacy, the peace and comfort, of a
home. and he determined that so far
as it lay in his power he was going to
enioy them. He had this little cot
tage in mind as he started out, for he
had frequently passed it and it had
taken his fancy. If it was still to let
he would take it, and secure board
with some quiet family in the neigh
borhood.
Lettie had not yet returned. The
shutters were closed, the sign was
still there, and the solemn hush that
pervaded the premises was broken
only by the drowsy murmur of the in
sects on the lawn.
"Who owns this placer" Earl asked
of a boy he found reaching over the
fence to pluck rose as he ap-
preached.
"The old Dutchman that lives in
that big house on the HILL" the boy
answered, pointing to the mansion in
question. Hes as rich as mud. He
owns nearly all the houses out here.
Most of the people that live in them
work in his wooden mill, and he owns
them. too There he comes now"
the boy added, as his eyes wandered
up the street.
Earl turned and beheld man of
huge proportions, his ponderous form
almost filling the entire seat, slowly
approaching in buggy.