The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1912-03-22
TIE EVENING STORY
Cupid and the Cat.
(By A. Howard Gunter, }

preJud1ced against poetry, Statuary
and the theater, for he knew that
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
We've" replied his wife irrelevantly.
"Well, why can't he court her with
common sense and plain prose? Did
1 write poetry to you, Lily Mande-
vile %
Now, dad declared Thomas
Vaudeville Grantwood, who was "a. a
reasonable. You couldn't. you know,
for Lily don't rhyme with anything
but silly and chilly and Mandeville
with i'll 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 "They began, oh,
Genevieve, for you to grieve." And he
brought a cat, too. when he brought
the poem. Genevieve told him that
the rats were taking the place"
Mr.. Grantwood was Modified at
once. "Good; always knew that boy
had some sense. 1 could scarcely
sleep last night for the rats They
marched around the room like SOL
diers.''
AS donor of the cat, Jack Wilton re-
ceived a warm welcome that night
from Genevieve's father, yet the young
mans usually cheerful countenance
was c1ouded. He had determined to
try his fate that evening, to tell
Genevieve that he loved her that life
was nothing without her, and num-
Der of other beautiful remarks that
he had carefully prepared for the oc-
casion He had practised his speech
in his room, had told his Aunt Sallie
that it should be now or never, ana
had left home with Astounding self
confidence. But before he reached
the Grantwood home he experienced
familiar and sad sensation. ms
courage began to dwindle, at the 1ront
door it had sunk below the WAIST
line and when he was ushered into
the parIor it had ebbed entirely away
Jack Wilton was not afraid of the
cho1eric Mr.. Brentwood or the neuraS-
thenic Mrs Grantwood; it was the girl
herself who held him silent. Whether
it was the smoothness of her blonde
hair. the wilderness of her stiffly laun-
dered dresses, the passionless common
sense shining in her eyes; whether 1t
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
Genevieve was neither sentimental nor
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 little
songs and told him all the joi-es in the
last installment of the "Woman's Fire |
side Friend 1t was already 1920 and |
at 1890 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 near and yet he could not |
speak.
Meanwhile, upstairs, Tommy Grant
wood awoke with a start at a slight |
sound in his room, and there on the |
their nightly visitor. Remembering u |
molasses pie that he had loved and |
lost, Tommy was preparing to fling a |
shoe a the visitor when a 1.-THE form
sprang from the darkness to the table. |
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 1T.
Mrs. Grantwood, lying in bed and
watching the clock, decided that it was
time for Ambrose to begin coughing in
the dining room. "AmbI se,' she
called, but The words died or her lips
for suddenly there was strange
humping and humping on the stairs,
and a 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. Urantwood's bed
oh, Lord cried the old woman, ''et
can't Judgment day. L amt dressed
proper to rise in glory.
Mrs. Grantwood rose in bed and,
quick of action, threw the brass can
at the rat as it rushed past.
The candlestick was heavy and, if well
aimed, might have done great damage
to the rat, but unfortunately it hit old
Ellen.
''Oh. Lordy," she walled, hiding her
head in the bed clothes. don't strike
in the dark" She was firmly per-
suaC d that the end of the world had
come, but the rat took more cheer
full view and hung on to life with the
tenacity of a Harlem strap hanger.
raced down the hall toward the din
ing room, and Mrs. Grantwood, mind
fui of the Vaudeville china, gathered
the bed clothes about her, and fol-
lowed in haste.
In the parlor Jack Wilton was re-
ness manager, sporting editor and
society reporter for the only paper in
the county, that his Aunt SalIie, who
had raised him, had said that very
night, that any girl would be proud
to marry him, and that it must be
sat glumly in a straight backed chair, |
facing Genevieve, who chatted gay1y. |
They, too, heard the unusual noise |
in the hall, and the girl was fright |
ened. Before Jack Wilton could re- !
assure her the curtains parted and
the rat and the cat darted into the
room. The young man sprang up,
with open arms and Genevieve utter
ing one unearthly shrek, rushed into
his close embrace. Her hair wass