The Caucasian. (Shreveport, La.) 1900-192?, 1913-06-12

Wilt LO tcufc Tue house 6lOucs you
know" apologized Phoebe.
Phoebe fluttered q goodby as they
turned the corner by the church and
then settled comfortably back in her
seat for the long drive into the heart
of the hills. Riddle was a taciturn in
dividual and consequently an ideal
charioteer, for Miss Dalrymple's usual
ly placid disposition was broken by
many emotions.
First, she was highly indignant that
she should practically be driven from
her home in order to enjoy a quiet
day Second, she thought she had de
tected slight smile at the corner of
Mr.. SCOTS pleasant mouth when he
looked at the heart shaped crack in
the windowpane
Fifteen miles straightaway from the
village, among ctrcling hills that lift
ed their blue green heights to the
bending skies, lay Uncle Morgan Tay,
lor's farm. Uncle Morgan owned the
valley and most OF the hills that sloped
down to the fertile pastures. The large
farm had once covered acres Of cult
waited land, but now Uncle Morgan, too
old to work himself, had discharged
his farmers, sold his stock and lived
on the generous income that was more
than ample to supply the simple wants
Of himself and his wife. Aunt Sally.
When great-niece Phoebe Dalrymple
drove up to the door in the hot sun
shine of the afternoon they came to
meet her with Outstretched hands and
EXPLANATIONS Of delight.
The old people went to bed early, and
presently Phoebe followed suit. resting
quietly in the best chamber under a
blue and white patchwork quilt
The next morning was different from
any other Fourth Of July she had ever
spent. The dead stiffness Of the val
| ley seemed to close In and shut her
away from a noisy world outside. And
yet, such is the perversity Of human
nature, Phoebe missed something. Aft
er breakfast she took book and wan
dered away to green meadow where
there was a huge rock overshadowed
by dropping elm. Here Phoebe perch
ed and read industriously. feebly tri
umphant in that she had outwitted the
nerve harassing glorious Fourth Of
July.
The sun rose higher, and the birds
singing In the thickets hushed their
notes in the sleepy noon. There was
the drowsy hum Of bees and the long
chirp Of countless insects in the grass
es. A brook rippled unsteady across
the meadow, and over all was a dell
cious repose 1t Is not surprising that
Phoebe, too. slumbered
A crashing explosion broke the still
ness and was echoed back from the
hills in countless reverberations.
Phoebe Dalrymple awoke to the be-
wildered realization that something
dreadful had happened-an earthquake
or an event equally terrible. She was
quite stunned by the noise and sat
leaning against the tree very quietly
Then familiar smell assailed her nos
trils, and she thought she heard the
sound Of voices boys voices raised In
gieeful chorus.
OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES boys were celebrat-
ing the Fourth Of July In Taylor's val
ley. She was too much surprised even
to turn around and discover the in
truders. She sat very stifiy, with her
back to the sun flooded meadow. trying
to stem her rising Indignation at the
unhappy fate that seemed to pursue
her desire for Quietude.
Heres good place, Billy-right
on this rock! Now touch her oil, On
Gle Lea Hurray" shrilied the famil-
lar voice Of little Jack Scott.
With thrill of terror Phoebe arose
to her feet and appeared around the
corner Of the big tree trunk. On the
rock at her feet sputtered big cannon
cracker. and backing away from Its
dangerous proximity was Leander
Scott himself
He took in the situation at a glance
Phoebe's book, her white face and the
brown linen dress, so like the trunk Of
the elm tree that her presence had
been quite unsupported
Instantly he leaped back to the rock
and grasped the sputtering explosive
In his hand. Under the impetus Of his
strong arm It went kissing through the
air. and before It reached the brook
toward which he aimed Il It hurst
with defamation that again shook the
hills and drove the sleepy birds from
covert to thicker shelter.
Phoebe Dalrymple sat down on the
rock and cried from sheer relief. Le-
ander Scott looked at her with grow
ing discomfort In his mind It seemed
to be his lot to pursue this gentle little
lady with an avalanche Of noise. Who
would have suspected that she had
sought retreat here OF all places! he
had chosen It out Of q dozen isolated
spots because the Taylors were deaf
and he had Uncle Morgan's warmest
consent to make all the noise he want
ed to.
The sight Of the little boys fussing
over the box OF fireworks decided him
With plying glance at Miss Phoebe's
dropping form be dashed toward the
boys It was the work Of a moment
to gather the bombs and cannon crack