Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1906-10-04
In The SMART LITTLE TRAP.

"And he has the smartest looking
trap you ever saw. Madgel It's cham
payne colored and perfect love.
What do you bet don't land him,
trap and all, before the summers flown
by2"
Miss Irene Warden, beauty land
aware of it), was writing to her girl
chum concerning the bachelor who
had just taken the big colonial house
with the carriage road and iron arch
way which for several seasons now had
abandoned hope of usefulness.
She was writing by an open window
where the scent of the roses came up
from the front garden. Beyond lay
the pretty tree lined road over which
the bachelor and his champagne col
ored trap had juet flown by.
although I've told you his name
is Horace Matlock, ran on Miss War
dens pen, II haven't told you what
he looks like. He's an old man, forty
or fifty, 1 should say. His nose is
rather too big, although people call
him handsome, and he's bit bald,
but, then, l suppose most men who
live in big houses and drive smart
traps have big noses. What2" Miss
Warden smiled little soft smile into
the glass above her dressing table and
then bent over her portfolio again:
"Of course I'd prefer dear old Tom.
He's young and stunning and sings
college songs SO beautifully, but, as
you know, he hasn't red And |
really must do something this summer,
Madge. My already meager allow
ance will be cut considerably in the
autumn, for in September pas going
to enter the matrimonial game him.
self-a horrid, designing widow too !
So I must step lively in the parlance
of street car officials.
"In point of fact, though" pursued
the voluble pen, It'll be pretty easy,
plain sailing. 1 haven'ta single good
looking rival up in this out of the way
place except old Professor Thornton's
daughter, and she's the quietest poke
of girl-a regular stay at home.
And as for dressing-well, Madge,
you and spend as much on our gloves
and wells, I reckon, as she does on her
whole outfit. That's what comes from
having a bookworm for father"
The next week in the little village
postofice friend presented Mr.. Hor.
ace Matlock to Miss Irene Warden.
Apparently the meeting was by acct
dent, but Miss Warden felt her smooth
cheeks flush, and her habitual COM
posture was rippled for second, while,
for his part, Mr.. Matlock scarcely
looked at her and, having passed q
conventional "glad to meet you" lift
ed his hat politely and walked out to
his smart little trap.
II had on my chic wolfe, the one
Aunt Tessie sent me from Paris, you
know" wrote Miss Warden to Madge,
and my big white hat with Topping
fuchsias. But it was all rank waste"
She couldn't understand it. Her
dreams hadn't ended that way at all.
One day in the tiny idle little bank
Mr.. Horace Matlock stopped short as
he recognized a stopped. gaunt figure
with a patrician face.
"Why, it's Professor Thornton.
isn't it2" he cried. stepping up to
him with cordially outstretched
hand.
When Matlock years ago had en-
tered Yale as a freshman Thornton
had been tutoring, and quite friend
ship had sprung up between them.
Subsequently they had lost track Of
each other. But the satisfaction of
| the younger man in meeting the old
er one again was genuine.
"Poor old professor How thin
and worn and aged he's become !"
thought Matlock as he drove the pro-
fessor home to his modern little cot
tage.
Out in the cottages aide yard by
the hollyhocks a girl was picking a
great bunch of sweet peas for the
| lunch table. When she heard the
smart little trap stop at the gate she