The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1907-07-03
THE EVENING STORY
Inciuding a Tin PeddIer.
DIV Arnold Morton.)

have frankly admitted it to Molly Gray
but for pride's sake. His transgres-
sions consisted of seeing another young
lady off on the train. The seeing on
meant buying her ticket and getting
her trunk checked, and that might
have been forgiven had not something
else followed. She had to change cars
at a junction five miles out, and she
was in such fear that she would take
wrong train and bring up in Texas in
stead of Connecticut that the young
lawyer was prevailed upon to accom-
pany her thus far. OF course, Molly
happened by the merest accident to
find it out, and the fact that Blakely
had said nothing made mountain out
of a mole hill. 1t was that little tribe
that brought about a quarrel and dis
turbed the center of equilibrium OF
the whole United States.
Miss Molly as fortunate enough to
have two aunts. She was Aunt Re-
becca's ward and resided with her IN
the city, and her Aunt Sarah lived
about thirty miles out and had advice
to offer on all occasions, but more
especially in case of lovers quarrels.
When this quarrel had lasted a week,
and when the young man, after seven
sleepless nights, had determined to
sink his pride and send flowers and
follow them in person, Miss Molly
was tossing her head before the
glass and saying things to herself, par
ticularly that she would show Mr..
Arthur Blakely what was what. and
teach him a lesson to last him all the
rest of his born days. Shed teach MIN
to buy tickets and check trunks ana
ride out to functions with girl who
had once referred to her hair as plain
red instead of Titan.
Ten minutes later she had decided
to visit her Aunt, Sarah. message
was sent ahead, and Aunt Sarah was
70 h0V
received a warm welcome, and follow
ing a plan perfected on the train, she
forced herself to be unusually gay and
appeared in the best spirits. They ha0
scarcely reached the house, however,
when Aunt Sarah patted her on the
shoulder in a motherly way and said:
Now, then, you poor child, let's
hear all about 1t. l want to assure
you at the start that you have my en-
tire sympathy"
'Why, Aunty, what do you mean? ~
Don't try to fool me, young lady!
I'm not your Aunt Rebecca, but your
Aunt Sarah. Has that scoundrel toyed
with your heartstrings and then
walked off? When Sister Rebecca
wrote me that he had Roman nose
and a sandy mustache, set him down
for a scoundrel."
The young lady tried to brazen it
out but was cornered and had to tell.
She made it as light for Arthur as she
could. but when she had finished her
story, Aunt Sarah said:
you have done just the right thing.
That young man needs lesson. You
are going to stay right here for the
rest of the summer. and he may write,
telephone and telegraph until he is
gray-headed, and it won't do him no
good. The Grays have never allowed
any one to walk over them, and they
are not going to begin now. If you
don't make him get down on his knees
and ask your pardon a thousand times
over you are no true Gray"
Molly went to her room greatly dis
satisfied. She had had quarrel with
Arthur Blakely, but there were lots OF
things to be said in his favor, and IL
was real mean of Aunt Sarah to pitch
into him as she had. The young lady
presently found herself arguing that
she had a perfect right to feel hurt
and injured and be week getting over
it. She had brought along his notes
and letters, of course. They made
quite a large bundle. She selected
three or four and read them over, and
| then she had good cry.
Aunt Sarah had said that the con-
versation would be resumed next day.
Molly woke up with a determination
that nothing further should be said.
After breakfast she took her book and
hied herself to the hickory grove down
in the meadow and there she remained
| till the horn blew for dinner. She
read a little, she cried a little and she
| thought a good deal. If she had had
| the hefty bundle of Arthur's letters
with her she might have cried more,
| but she had carelessly left it behind
| her and did not wish to go back for
| fear of Aunt Sarah. AS she reached
| the house she ran upstairs to look over
| Just one letter. and a minute later
scream reSOunued through MANS anu
"What on earth is it" demanded the
aunt from the foot of the stairs.
"My-my letters are gone!'
| What letters?"
| "Arthur's letters to me. left them
on the floor beside my trunk
| '''Then you'll never see them again.
| tin peddler came along about 10 O'Clock
and / wanted to scare up enough paper
| rags to buy q dipper. 1 picked up what
7 could and and as thought the bundle
was something you had thrown away
| chucked 1t in.'
| There were other screams, followed by
| excIama lions. tears and a close approach
| to hysteria. and the result was that a
| quarter of an hour later aunt and niece
| drove up the dusty highway as fast as
| the old horse could gallop. They were
| looking far ahead in hopes of catching
| sight of the tin peddler. Those letters
| must be recovered at all hazards. Fail
ure apparently meant one case of sui
eide and one of lifelong remorse.
| Meanwhile, things had been happen
| ing elsewhere. Arthur Biakely hao
finally decided to send that bouquet
and to follow IL III person Sever al nOui
later, only to find that Molly had de-
| parted for the country. 1t wasn't a case
| where he could go into court and argue
/ 1t out. but case of hustle. About the
| time that Aunt Sarah was picking uI
paper-rags to make her deal with the
| peddler. the young lawyer was leaving
| the city on the express and preparing
his argument for the jury of one. There
| was. of course, no one at the depot &c
meet him, and he stepped out in live
| fov "a hQlf-n1ilA
| did so a tin-peddler came driving along
and one of the wheels of his wager
struck a stone and slowed the vehicle
| around and upset it in the ditch. The
| bags of paper-rags on top were thrown tt
| the ground and one of them bursting
| s-a-SsLc,+ humble of letters to the fee