The Mena weekly star., 1909-04-15

u Xs
 pei4ehce, what must the actual execu.
 Non of that stupendous bit of engi.
 neering have been to the workmen
 "ho hewed the road out of the rock
 suspended over the abyssl Their
 dangling black figures seem to sway
 s1ill as one swings around the curve
 Our travellers sat in silence. until the Cape was passed and again they
 could see their roadbed on the side
 lhen Mrs. Melville made a polite ex- cuse Tor departure; she had promised Daughter whom she had met at
 various "bennisls" that she would nave little talk with her Thus she escaped. They did not miss her.
 Hardly speaking. the four sat in the
 umly lighted, tiny room, while noun
 ans and fields and ar-sown skies drifted by. Unconsciously, Archie drew closer to his uncle, and the older man threw an arm about the young shoulders. He looked up to meet
 3anets eyes shining and sweet, in the Hash of passing station light. Mrs.
 Winter smiled, her wise old smile.
 With the next morning came an other shift of scene; they were in the fertile valleys of California At every turn the landscape became more soft ly tinted, more gracious. Aunt Re
 becca was in the best of humor and announced herself as having the jour ney of her life. The golden green of the grain fields, the towering palms, the pepper trees with their fascinating grace, the round tops of the live-oaks, the gloss of the orange groves. the calla lily hedges and the heliotrope and geranium trees which climbed 10 the second story of the stucco houses. filled her with the enthusiasm of child. She drank in the cries of the enterprising young liar who cried Fresh figs months out of season, end she ate fruit, withered in cold storage, with a trustful zsst. No less than three books about the flora of California came out of her bag. A certain vine called the Bougainvillea, she was trying to find, if only the cars would not go so fast; as for poin- settias, she certainly should raise her own for Christmas. She was learned in gardens and she discoursed with Miss Smith on the different kinds of trumpetvine, and whether the white jasmine trailing among the gaudy clusters was of the same family as that jasmine which they knew in the pine forests. But she disparaged the roses; they looked shop-worn. The colonel watched her in amazement.
 "Bertie, I make you think of that little dwarf of Dickens. don't I?'' she cried. Miss Mullins, Muggins? what was her name? You are expecting me to exelaim, 'Ain't I volatile?' Thank Heaven, am. I could always take an interest in trifies. It has been my salvation to cultivate an in terest in trifies, Bertie: there are a great many more trifles than crises in life. Where has Janet gone? Oh, to give the porter the collodion for
 is cut thumb. People with troubles, big or little, are always making straight for Janet. Bertie, have you made up your mind about herr"
 "Only that she is charming" re- piled the colonel. He did not change color, but he was uneasily conscious hat he winced and that the shrewd old critic of life and manners per ceived it. But she was mercifully blind to all appearance; she went on with the little frown of the solser of psychological enigma. Yes, Janet is charming; and why? She Is the stillest creature. Have you noticed? Yet you never have the sense that she hasn't answered you. She's the best listener in the world and there's one thing about her unusual in most lis- teners-her eyes never grow vacant"
 Rupert had noticed; he called him self a doddering old donkey silently because he had assumed that there was anything personal in the interest of those eyes when he had spoken. Of course not; it was her way with every one, even Millicent, no doubt. His aunt's next words were lost, but sen tence caught his ear directly: For all she's gentle, she has plenty of spirit. Bertie, did ever tell you about the time cur precious cousin threw our grandfather's gold snuff box at her? No? It was funny. She flew into one of her towering rages, and shrieking: Take that.' hurled the snuff box at Janet. Janet wasn't used to having things thrown at her. She caught the box, then she rang the bell Thank you very much,' says Janet; and when old Aunt Phrosie came, she handed the snuff-box to her as a present. But she sent 1t that same day to one of the sisters. There was never anything else thrown at her, can tell you"
 They found a wonderful sunset on the bay when San Francisco was reached. Still in her golden humor as they rattled over the cobblestones of the picturesque streets to the Pal ace hotel, Mrs. Winter told anecdotes of Robert Louis Stevenson. obtained from a friend who had known his 1 mother. Mrs. Winter had chosen the l Palace in preference to the St. Francis, to Mrs. Melville's high dis gust
 She thinks 1t more typical" sneered MiIlicent; myself. prefer | and comfort to types"
 Their rooms were waiting for them and two bell,boys ushered Mrs. Winter | Into her suite. Randall was lodged on he same floor, and Mrs. Melville. who | o,ac to cnpnd a few days with her