Hopkinsville Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1889-1918, 1909-09-18
ONE AUGUST NIGHT,
She Was Told The Story of the
Lady Of ShaIott.
nx vIReINIA LEILA wENrz.

slept with half mended boots in their
laps; Italian women slept at their fruit
stands with sleeping babies ut their
breasts horses trotted conscientiously
along in front Of sleeping drivers.
In the department store where An
tona Wheaton worked the day had
been difficult especially behind the
stuffy corner where She measured out
ribbons And oh. what II godscnd the
loud sounding bell at had been, Most
of the girls in the store were city bred
and they accepted the conditions Of
August philosophiaclly but Antona
Wheaton had come from fresh little
country town in the west, aud as she
leaned from her boarding house win
dOw-the third floor hall room, back
a few minutes before going down to
dinner 1t seemed to her that she was
locked in place of torment from
which no escape was possible
They dined at in Mrs. Browns
boarding house In the half hour that
Antona had been home she had taken
a sponge bath, brushed her silky. flax
en- hair ana changed her black alpaca
dress for 4 simple white muslin. As
she leaned out OF the window from the
open space beside the storage house
in the rear she could see the dust
carts roll down the streets The whisk-
ing of their big rotary brooms remind
cd the country bred girl Of. large tur-
key gobbers sweeping the earth with
disdainful. proud wings The open
space faced the west, and. resting her
little oval cheeks in her hands. Antona
could see that the sun was doing its
best to set with some sort Of rightful
beauty, even in this homely downtown
section
where the quiet colored end of
evening smiles
Ant0na was speaking to herself in
reprehensibe fashion that was grow
ing on her trying to recall some verses
which Francis Logan had quoted to
her one sunset time down on the Bat
terry. She had fancicd she could re-
member them. they were so simple and
lovely.
Just then Mrs. Browns cracked din
ner bell rang.
Across the lone. narrow table Fran
els Logan glanced mt Antona with
something like a lump born Of big.
protective instinct rising in his throat
Every vestiee of fresh country rose
bloom had fed from the girls sweet
face. and in the intervals when she
fancled she was not observed the
young fellows alert eye noticed that
black lashes rested heavily against
her cheek as would those of one who Is
overweary.
AntOna's WEAKNESS struck home per-
haps because of contrast. Francis him
self was more than usually happy that
night
The big importing house where he
was employed had that very morning
sent note TO his desk informing him
that his salary had been increased
some $40 a month. His dear mother,
over in Devonshire. had just written
him that a relative had left her IN UNI
expected little legacy. Altogether the
world was going well with Francis To-
gan.
'You look pleased, Mr.. Logan, OBJ
served Mrs. Brown from her accus-
toned seat at the head of the table.
"Ah. remember-this is your favor
tie soupr
For Eve years now young Logan had
heen an inmate of Mrs Browns estah-
lshment without having ever changed
his seat at table or his room. Natural
w MIS- Brown sought to ingratiate her
self with him.
"Why, my dear" she had exclaimed
once to AntOna in a burst of cnthusl-
assn, che knows all the poets by heart
He sees only the best plays, even
though it may be from gallery seats,
He knows all the finest pictures up in
the Metropolitan He has what they
call an artistic taste too. My lands,
you should hear him notice the sunset
at the end of a narrow city street or a
tiny flower out in the park or
Yes, l know" said Antona impul-
sively, for once coming out Of her re
serve. Hes pure gold-that's what he
isr
Huh! 'Gold|" Mrs Brown had re-
torted disdainfully. None o your
pretty. soft yellow stuff for him. He's
good. solid, practical steel, if any one
asked me- Don't you forget it, Miss
Wheaton. And if you could be fortu-
nate enough to tie up to him
Mrs Brown had broken OFF abruptly
at 4 flash from Miss WheatOn's eye.
One dared not presume too far with
Miss Wheaton, in spite OF the silky.
faxen hair and the childish dimpleS.
as many of the young men in the de
partment store had found out
"If only they could be little more
like Mr.. Logan Antona had more
than opce found herself commenting as
she pinned up her colored bolts. He
is the soul of honor, and IL don't
know what I'd do without himw
Had a stroke OF luck today, little