The Irish standard., 1912-04-06
Cupid and
the Cat
BY A. Howard Ountsr
lcepyrisht. ,0ra. BY Associated Li,orar, pr...,

Ambrose" remarked Mrs. Grant
wood, Jack Wilton IL 4 very clever
boy. He has written some poetry to
Genevieve."
Unfortunately, Mr.. Brentwood was
prejudiced against poetry, statuary
and the theater. for he knew that
these things had nothing to do with
the hardware business, and he felt
that they were apt to be improper.
SO he banged his fist down on the
table and cried: Poetry! Then the
boys an idiot"
Hes very much in love with Gene
sieve," replied his wife irrslevantly.
well. why can't he court her with
common sense and plain prose7 Did
write poetry to you, Lily Mande-
ville7"
Nov. Dad" declared Thomas
Vaudeville brentwood. who was q
stanch admirer Of Jack Wilton, "be
Reasonable. You couldn't, you know,
Tor Lily doesn't rhyme with anything
but silly and chilly and Vaudeville
with Ill and pill. The combination
Of words was against YOU"
Anyway, the verses were very
pretty" persisted Mrs. brentwood.
whose idea Of poetry was bounded on
one side BY the Psalm OF Life" and
on the other by "Curfew Shall Not
Ring Tonight" '.rhey began. oh.
Henevieve. for you to grieve.' And he
brought Q cat, too, when he brought
the poem. Genevieve told him that
the rats were taking the place"
Mr.. Brentwood was notified at
once. Good. l always knew that boy
had some sense. / could scarcely
sleep last night for the rats. They
marched around the room like SOL
diers."
As donor Of the cat, Jack Wilton re-
cetved warm welcome that night
from Genevieve's father, yet the
young mans usually cheerful counte-
nance was clouded. He had deter
mined to try his fate that evening. to
tell Genev1eve that he loved her, that
life was nothing without her, and
number of other beautiful remarks
that he had carefully prepared for
the occasion. He had pract1ced his
speech in his room, had told his Aunt
6allie that It should be now or never,
and had left home with Astounding
self-confldence. But before he reached
the Grantwood home he experienced
familiar and sad sensation, his
courage began to dwindle at the front
door It had sunk below the waist
tine, and when he was ushered into
the parlor it had ebbed entirely away.
Jack Wilton was not afraid of the
choleric Mr.. Grantwood or the neu-
resthenic Mrs. Grantwood; it was the
girl herself who held him silent.
Whether it was the smoothness of
her blonde hair, the wilderness Of her
Btidly laundered dresses, the passion
less common sense shining in her
eyes; whether it was any or all of
these things the young man could not
tell. but certain it was that he had
never been able to make love to
Genevieve, though he had served long
and faithfully in her train. Many
frantic efforts he had made, but Gene
We've was neither sentimental nor
firtatious, and her cheerful friendli-
mess COMPOUNDED his romantic flights.
So now he gazed in dumb misery
from the rug at her feet to the clock,
while Genevieve sang him all her lit
tie songs and told him all the Jokes
In the last installment of the WON
ans Nreside Friend" It was already
1920, and at 1920, as Jack Wilton
knew, Mr.. Grantwood would be heard
coughing violently in the dining
room, and at that signal all visitors
must depart. The time was near and
yet he could not speak.
Meanwhile, upstairs, Tommy Grant
wood awoke with start at slight
sound in his room. and there on the
table was great gray rat that was
their nightly visitor. Remembering
q molasses pie that he had loved and
lost. Tommy was preparing to fling a
shoe at the visitor when 1.-THE form
sprang from the darkness to the ta-
BILE. The cat was quick, but the rat
was quicker, and with startled
squeak it jumped for the door and
scurried downstairs, the new cat hard
behind it.
Mrs. Grantwood, lying in bed and
watching the clock, decided that it
was time for Ambrose to begin cough
ing in the dining room. Ambrose"
she called, but the words died on her
lips, for suddenly there was strange
humping and humping on the stairs,
and huge rat, pursued by the new
cat, rushed into the room. They ran,
both the pursued and the pursuer,
right over the sleeping form of old
Ellen, the negro nurse. who lay on a
pallet by Mrs. Grantwood's bed.
"Oh. Lord" cried the old woman,
let can't Judgment day. amt
dressed proper to rise in glory"
Mrs. Brentwood rose in bed and,
quick of action, threw the brass can
dlestick at the rat as 1t rushed past.
The candlestick was heavy and, If
well aimed, might have done great
damage to the rat, but unfortunately
It hit old Ellen