The river press. [volume] (Fort Benton, Mont.) 1880-current, 1910-06-01
THE F%L0oRWALKER.


How Madeleine, the Customer, Return.
ed to Talk Shop.
T was autumn. and the busy days
Of effort had been resumed. Ferdi-
nand. with the fresh glow Of health
on his face. stood by the door looking
out upon the crowded thoroughfare,
his eyes resting upon the everchanging
kaleidoscope Of life. but not seeing
this. His mind was far away from
that restless thoroughfare, and 1t was
only with a ~listless interest that he
answered the many questions that
were coming to him from all sides. It
was with some degree of discomfort
that he realized that he had sent at
least three ladies to the chiffon counter
on the third door when they had asked
the way to the culinary supply depart
ment in the basement. and he knew
that this could not continue, and yet
the thought of that last sweet evening
on the broad moonlit waters Of the
Mankamunkywunk would not down.
That moon. covering with a golden
glow the fair face of Madeleine and
lighting its way straight into his swell
Ing heart. was never to be forgotten
no, not even here in this mad whirl
OF commerce. So happy had he been
at her whispered Eyes" when he had
asked her to be his that he had for
gotten to ask her address. and when
next morning he had departed for the
vortex of business again she had, not
appeared on the station platform, and
he had been forced to return to town
in utter ignorance of where he might
find her. Would he ever see her again?
he had repeatedly asked himself, and
now-could it be true?-here she was
in all her majestic beauty entering that
swinging door and coming directly to
his side.
"Madeleine!!" he cried eagerly.
The girl stopped and gazed search
ingly n his face, but she spoke no
word.
"Madeleine," he murmured, II have
found you again. Will you not speak
to me?"
Her face went white, and it was
evident that she was suffering.
"Madeleine," he continued, 'since
that night on the lake l have seen
nothing but you, thought of nothing
but you. Waking or sleeping it has
been always the same-your face has
been enshrined In my heart as imper-
ishably as the tiny fly in the inde-
structible amber. Every strain Of mu-
sic that has fallen upon my ears has
whispered your dear name to me. The
first word l have spoken on waking
has been Madeleine. The last word
upon my lips at night has been Made
leine."
Still, as If stricken dumb, the girl
made no reply.
"Am l never to be thrilled again
with the magic numbers of your
voice?' he cried. us my heart never
more to echo and re-echo with the
splendid modulations Of that exquisite
harmony which breathes forth it's love-
illness from your slightest word? Made
leine, speak to me or l shall go mad"
Her lips moved. and at first he could
not hear, but finally her words reach
cd him.
"Will you please direct me to the
stove lid departments" she said.
He staggered backward into the
hamper of hole proof hosiery marked
down from $1.00 to $1.G7 and stood
gaping awkwardly at her, and Made
leine, without another word, turned
and was lost in the surging mass of
women come to get the Monday set of
the works of Browning with each if
teen cent cake of celluloid soap.-Har-
per's Weekly.