The Somerset reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1868-1909, 1906-09-06

all. Inc uFsI lQllmdllOu OF cnd0Re III
the usual order OF events came when
Mildred refused to play golf on Sun
day.
When a person can play all the
week." she said. II think he ought to
make difference on Sunday"
But it is my only opportunity to
play with you. aud | spend my week
ends here for that sole purpose" plead
ed Whitney. Il cannot understand
this sudden access OF conscience"
Mildred looked offended. and Whit
ney was about to apologize when Tom
slipped hand through his arm.
Come and so around with me, Mr.
Whitney. Mildred Is a little morbid
Just now, but 1t won't last" and as they
went away together Tom explained.
ut Is that curate chap-he came out
here last Monday and spent the week
all the women are crazy about him.
Heaven knows what there Is about
collar that buttons behind, but girls
always go down before it like nine
pins"
WAS he-was he especially attentive
to any one2" Whitney's voice shook.
"Sure-stuck to Ailly like barnacle
to a lamppost. thought when she
saw him play golf she'd break away.
1t was enough to make angels bawi."
did you say she was pleased with
Couldn't drive six feet-made eleven
strokes and six foozles to the first
green, them
But do you think she enjoyed
Then putted out In five What do
you think of that?"
ut was a hideously excruciating, re-
voting spectacle! Did Miss Mildred
appear interested in
He drove four balls into the brook
and instead of cussng like a gentleman
ating gamer"
1t was no use trying to get any salts
faction from Tom. He talked of moth
ing but the curate's foozles and fall
ures, and the only information Whitney
obtained was that the parson intended
to be at Windcllff every week during
the remainder of the summer.
Mildred more than ever ensnared by
the curate. She not only refused to
play golf Sunday, but read a book
called Marrow Paths" all the evening.
Tom walked to the station with Mr..
Whitney Monday morning and asked
If there was anything he could do for
him.
Get rid of the foozling parson," said
Tom. He uses his irons like grave
digger, and he has lost three of my new
handmade pneumatlcs"
Il wish he was a missionary" sighed
Whitney.
In the cannibal islands," added
Tom.
1le following Friday Whitney re-
ceived a postal card with these words:
"Plot thickens. Take a vacation.
Tom"
Whitney, panic stricken, went to
Windclff on the next train. He found
Tom on the ninth green about to try a
difficult stroke and, laying hands sud
denly upon him, asked breathlessly:
What did you mean by that postal
card?"
Lucky you didn't grab till l had
made that put. l might have jiu jit-
sued you" said Tom. Lets see"
counting on his fingers. -four to the
brook. one on to the green; that Is
five
Answer my question" Whitney
shook him roughly.
1.-TWO puts in seven. Oh, that was
just n threat. Thought you better be
on the spot. Here comes the foozlIng
fascinator now"
After introducing the curate, Tom IN
qured anxiously:
"How is your head today, Mr.. SetonY
"All right when l am up and about,
thank you" Turning to Whitney: II
have suffered from the most peculiar
symptoms lately. When l lie down at
night | have a rumbllng sound in my
head that prevents my sleeping"
How do you account for it," asked
Whitney.
Its the beastly dampness." Tom re-
marked. "a man here last summer
began with exactly your symptoms and
his doctor told him II he didn't go
away from the lake quick he would be
q raying maniac"
The curate turned pale.
Dear me, should hate to leave this
delightful place, but cannot run such
a risk as that"
BY August so many boarders arrived
that the landlady turned the boys and
bachelors into the "Anne," small cot
tage divided into bedrooms by thin
wooden partitions. and the curate, Mr..
Whitney and Tom were relegated to
these quarters, Toms room being be-
tween the other two.
Whitney passed the time playing
golf with Tom, who was singularly I'M
Ike himself. Instead of being indefat-
gable and bubbling over with spirits.
he was languid and dull. He said the
pare possibility Of having foozler en-
ter his family reduced his nervous sys-
tenn to a pulp.
what on earth did you bring me
here forY' asked Whitney. ~ can't see
anything of your sister without that
everlasting parson."
"She will be tired of his symptoms
before long" said Tom.
"She appears to be In love with him
and hts symptoms"
''She has some notion about a life of
usefulness as parsons wife. She'll