The Rice belt journal. (Welsh, Calcasieu Parish, La.) 1900-19??, 1912-09-06


Mrs. Temple was still shaking with
svmpathetic laughter, never dreaming
what her husband was laughing at
She turned to Mrs. Whitcomb, but
Mrs. Whitcomb was still glaring at
Mrs. Wellington, who was still writ
ing with flying fingers and anderson
ing every other word.
Some people seem to think they
own the train" Mrs. Whitcomb ragged
THAT creature has been at the writ
ing desk an hour. The worst OF 1t is,
I'm sure she's writing to my hus
band"
Mrs. Temple looked shocked, but an
other peal Of laughter came through
the partition between the male and te-
male sections Of the car, and she
beamed again. Then Mrs. Wellington
finished her letter, glanced it over, ad'
dressed an envelope. sealed and
stamped it with a deliberation that
maddened Mrs. Whitcomb. When at
last she rose, Mrs. Whitcomb was in
the seat almost before Mrs. Yelling,
ton was out of it.
Mrs. Wellington paused at another
wave Of laughter from the mems
room. She commented petulantly:
What good times men have.
They've formed club in there al
ready We women can only sit around
and hate each other"
why, | don't hate anybody, do
you? Mrs. Temple exclaimed, look
ing up from the novel she had found
on the book shelves. Mrs. Yelling
ton dropped into the next chair:
"On long railroad journey | hate
everybody. Don't you hate long jour
ncys?"
ITS the first | ever took" Mrs.
Temple apologized, radiantly, and I'm
having the-What my oldest boy would
call the time Of my life And dear
Walter-such goings on for him! A
few minutes ago strolled by the door
and saw him playing cards with a
stranger, and smoking and drinking,
too, all at once"
Boys will be boys" said Mrs. VIII
lington.
But for Dr.. Temple Of all people"
why shouldn't doctor? It's a
shame the way men have everything
Think of 1t, special smoking room.
And women have no place to take a
puff except on the sly"
Mrs. Temple stared at her in awe:
The woman in this book smokes!-
perfulned things!"
"All women smoke nowadays" said
Mrs. Wellington, carelessly. Don't
you?"
The politest thing Mrs. Temple
could think of in answer was: Not
yet"
Realty" said Mrs. Wellington,
Don't you like tobacco?"
Il never tried it."
Its time you did. smoke cigars
myself"
Mrs. Temple almost collapsed at
this double shock: "Ci-cigars?"
Yes; cigarettes are too strong for
me-; will you try one of my pets?"
Mrs. Temple was about to express
her repugnance at the thought, but
Mrs. Wellington thrust before her
portfolio in which nestled such dainty
shapes of such warm and winsome
brown, that Mrs. Temple paused to
stare, and, like Mother Eve, found the
fruit of knowledge too interesting
once seen to reject with scorn. She
hung over the cigar case in hesitant
excitement one moment too long. Then
she said in a trembling voice: I'll
should like to try once-just to see
what it's like. But there's no place"
Mrs. Wellington felt that she had
already made proselyte to her own
beloved vice, and she rushed her vic.
tim to the precipice: There's the OBJ.
servation platform, my dear. Come
on out"
Mrs Temple was shivering with dis.
may at the dreadful deed What
would they say in Ypsilanti?"
What do you care? Be a sport
Your husband smokes. If it's right
for him, why not for you?"
Mrs. Temple set her teeth and
crossed the Rubicon with a. resolute
81 will"
Mrs. Wellington led the timid
neophyte along the wavering floor of
the car and flung back the door Of the
observation car. She found Ira Lath.
rop holding Anne Gattle's hand and
evidently explaining something Of
great Importance, for their heads
were very close together. They rose
and with abashed faces and confused
mumblings Of half swallowed explana.
tons, left the platform to Mrs, Wei.
lington and her new pupil.
Shortly afterward Little Jimmie
Wellington grew FESTIVE and set ont
for brief constitutional and a breath
of air. He carried siphon to which
he had become greatly attached, and