Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1912-04-12

boy. He has written some poetry to
Geneyi
Unto. tur ,tely, Mr.. Brentwood was
prejudice 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"
He's 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
write poetry to you, Lily Mande-
ville?"
Now, Dad" declared Thomas
Vaudeville Brentwood, who was a
staneh admirer of Jack Wilton, he
reasonable. You couldn't, you know,
for Lily doesn't rhyme with anything
but silly and chilly and Vaudeville
with i'll and pill. The combination
of words was against you"
Anyway. the verses were very
pretty" persisted Mrs. Grantwood,
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 cat, too, when he brought
the poem. Geneyieve told him that
the rats were taking the place.
Mr.. Brentwood was Modified at
once. Good, / 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-
ceived 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 Genevieve 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 practiced his
speech in his room, had told his Aunt
Sallie that it should be now or never,
and had left home with Astounding
self-confidence. But before he reached
the Grantwood home he experienced
q familiar and sad sensation, his
courage began to dwindle at the front
door it had sunk below the waist
line, and when he was usnered 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
stiffiy Numbered 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
fiirtatious, and her cheerful friendli-
ness confounded his romantic flights.
So now he gazed in dumb misery
from the rug at her feet to the clock,
while Genevieye sang him all her lit
tie songs and told him all the Jokes
in the last instaIlment of the WON
ans Fireside 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 was near and
yet he could not speak
Meanwhile. upstairs. Tommy Grant
wood awoke with start at a slight
sound in his room, and there on the
table was great gray rat that was
their nightly visitor. Remembering
a molasses pie that he had loved and
lost, Tommy was preparing to fling
shoe at the visitor when a, 1.-the form
sprang from the darkness to the ia
BILE. The cat was quick, but the rat
was quicker. and with a 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 Tor 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 Grantwoods bed.
'oh. Lord" cried the old woman.
let can't Judgment day. amt
dressed proper to rise in glory
Mrs. Grantwood rose in bed and. |
quick OF action, threw the brass can
dlestick at the rat as it rushed past
The candlestick was heavy and If
well aimed. might have done great !