The Cook County herald. [volume] (Grand Marais, Minn.) 1893-1909, 1907-11-23

lt Is so ABSURD to be aneCted by the
weather. thought would put things
round it, but it don't seem to mind
them much. It's so unreasonable"
And here she heaved a deep >sigh, so
evidently ordered for. the occasion
that Mr.. Brown bit his lip as he turn
ed away to the table
If he said nothing, perhaps, like the
famous speechless parrot, he kept up
terrible thinking, for Polly heard no
more about her unreasonable sensi-
tiveness," but suddenly became the
possessor of certain fur-lined slippers,
the softest of white India shawls
for home wear, and sealskin furs that
swallowed up her fairy figure in thei1
downy darkness, till winter vexed the
days in vain as far as Polly was con-
cerned
But the education went on in other
ways. If physical nature could no
more be changed than the mercury in
the thermometer, certainly that bright
mind could shape itself to rules, that
Wayward, witching nature subdue it.
self to dignity and calmness. Fool
1sh man! But was he the first of
his kind? or will be he be the last?
Polly was not plastic; no more is
the rose tree when you try to make
an oak of it. Some plants die in the
training; others burst the straps and
assert themselves. She was by no
means one of the dying kind. She
fully understood at length what her
husband was about, and laughed in
her sleeve.
One day friend of Mr.. Browns
brought him a fourishing young ivy
from Kepilworth castle. It affords
room for the statistical mind to in
quire the area of that castle and the
extent of its ivies, when we consider
how many are transplanted FROM that
one locality. But Mr.. Brown had an
unusual taste for plants, and was graf
ifed by the remembrance.
The ivy grew we'll in the east bay
window, and had already thrown it's
graceful length half way up the sash,
when Mr.. Brown found it one fine
morning tied with full 20 strings to a
straight, wooden rod, it's shining
leaves strapped to stiff paper spills at
right angles with, the stem, the whole
thing looking ungain1y. and tortured
enough.
Polly sat at the table, carefully
pouring out the tea, as innocent-in as
pect as any lamb. ---z----~--..
'Paulina, what is that for?'' And
Mr.. Brown pointed a severe finger at
the ivy.
"Oh, 1 thought I'd train it into a
bush, it would be so much easier to
take care Oft"
Train it into a bush!. You can't
do it. Whoever heard of making a
vine into a shrub?''
why, Jack, I thought you liked to
make things the way you want them
if. it isn't their nature"
A sort Of lightning flash went
through Jacks brain at this demure
little speech. He seemed to see Polly
prim, and proper, as he recalled his
maiden aunts and his grandmother.
He turned cold at the idea, and then
be colored to his fair hair.
"Polly!" said he, with an inexpres-
sible accent of conviction and contri-
ton, holding out his arms.
"Jackey," cried Polly, half-laughing
and half-sobbing, *can't you like me
tho wav prow3'
Like you!" The exclamation was
Immediately smothered.
When Mrs. Cortland SCHUYLER
passed through Boston two years
after, and saw John Brown lying on
the palor floor with curly, Growing
baby astride of his manly breast, and
Paulina on a cushion beside him try
ing to show the aforesaid infant how
to pull its fathers whiskers, that. es-
timable woman shook her head and
sighed. 49,.
\ "Paulina,'' said she severely, "have
you fulfilled your mission?' d..
"No, ma'am,".. replied Polly mot
that one"