The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1909-03-24
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"Ah!" said the Professor.

paw ~ "a ~ aoSS oSol1Sl IL
show window next door, where GER
tain mysterious garments we're on dis
play under the guise of being a White
Sale), the Professor peered into the
show window of the furniture shop
and Toasted his gaze on a %sideboard
Of antiquity.
"A perfect specimen of hand carv-
ing" said he. "a perfect specimen
Of hand carving; A perfect"
And as his voice diminishes into
the silence of alteration let us (fat-
tening our noses against the show
window of Life) look earnestly for
a minute or two at this Professor and
also at Madame Professor, his wife.
He was, then, a bushy-headed pro-
fessor, wearing the aspect Of a lion
and much given to bristling his beard
and making gestures of emphasis
with his eyebrows. For the rest of it
his trousers were innocent of creases,
the PROFESSIONAL limbs being careless
ly thrust into twin cylinders of pep
per and salt, and he couldn't be left
to himself a minute before the hanger
Of his coat began to assert itself over
the top of his collar, as though bent
upon showing its superiority over
learned subjects and its unyielding
scorn of all things scholarly.
So let US turn and consider Ma
dame.
Pert and snappy was Madame, with
a pretty little t%urned-up chin and
looking altogether capable of tanning
the lion aforesaid and making him
Jump through the hoop whenever .oc-
casion required. Moreover, she had
a way of setting her foot down when
she walked as though she knew ex-
actly where she was going, and every
sine she spoke she nodded her head
until the white pompon on her hat
nodded also in a manner that was at
once an affirmation, a warning and a
source of deep delight.
do you see it," he asked.
YES" she said, nodding; Il see
It,"
"a masterpiece" said he, and bris-
Ting his name he fell into his best
PROFESSIONAL style and thus delivered
himself:
ERA of the eighteenth century.
Wreaths. scrolls and friezes carved in
high relief, with fruit and flowers
carved with wonderful initiative skill.
[ particularly wish to call your atten-
ton to the predominating figure of
Pomona"
Whereupon he crooked his right
knee and made a particularly COM
handing gesture.
Pomona was the old Roman god
dess of the fruits of the tree and es-
pecially loved by all the sylvan del
ties, the satyrs and the pans. She
was a shy goddess, but Vertumnus.
the god of the turning year, wooed
and won her. I digress, however,"
Come along" said she.
"Wait," said he.
And turning to the sideboard again
he said:
Herein We see that the engraver,
however rare his manual skill, has
fallen into a common mistake and
has given Pomona a c%ornucopia,
which is, of course, the special prop
erty of F~ortunatus. However, we
will overlook so popular an error and
confne ourselves to the work
proper"
Are you coming?" said she.
I'm a minute" said he.
He batted his eyebrows.
THE delicate carving of the foliage
Is unusual" said he, Especially in
the hollows of the cornice and the
light open cresting along the top.
The tracery around the punches of
grapes is also of a wonderful beauty,
and executed with the most minute
finish and delicate moulding. The
fronts of the lower drawers have
been specially selected for minute
enrichment in spite of their incon-
spicuous position. However,"
And as a new beauty caught his
eye he fell once more into the silence
of alteration. saying at last:
81 wish it was ours"
But as for her, her pompon
started shaking.
We'll, I DON'T" she said.
, Whereat he stepped back in those
twin cylinders which have already
been mentioned, and the hanger of
his coat began to assert itself-oh,
most derisively!
You don't?"
"No," she said. Il do not"
what? You don't wish we
owned that beautiful %sideboard with
all that magnificent carving??"
mo. Cassius," she said, tuckine
the hanger back in its place, II do
not"
And taking him firmly by the arm
she led him to that window next door
where the strange and curious ex-
hibits were on display, and just be.
fore she fell into a reverie she looked
UP at him with that glance of love
and impotence which a mother
times directs at her best beloved)
and added:
How would you like to have to
dust it every morning?"-New York
Sun.