Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1913-10-10

AChR NAa W. oOWf aaA mat II JOu 70
done something very wrong in the
past-ugh! Better look out-trouble's
coming. That's what the song mean
to me-"
"And will you kindly tell me what 1t
means to the choir?"
Eyes, l tell you what 1t means to,
the choir. It means sitting on benches
and singing, after a sermon; and it
ean a tent, and a great evangelist
and a celebrated soloist-and then go
ing home to act as IL 1t wasn't So"
Abbott was not only astonished, but
panied. Suddenly he had lost No
body's little girl" to be confronted by
an elfish spirit of mischief. He asked
with constraint, did this critical at
titude make you laugh out. in the
tent?"
Il wouldn't tell you why I laughed"
Fran declared. "for a thousand dol
lars. And I've seen more than that
In my day"
They walked on. He was silent, she
impenetrable. At last she said, in a
changed voice, my names Fran.
What's yours?"
He laughed boyishly. Mines Alb
bott."
His tanner made her laugh sympa-
t~hetically. 1t was just the she
liked best-gay, frank, and a little
mischievous. "Abbott?" she repeated;
wells that all?"
ashton is the balance; Abbott
Ashton. And yours?"
"The rest of mine is Nonpareil-
funny name, isn't iti-Fran Nonpa,
reil. It means Fran, the small type;
or Fran who's unlike everybody else;
Ior-Oh, there are lots of meanings to
me. Some find one, some another,
some never understand"
1t was because Abbott Ashton was
touched that he spoke lightly:
What a very young Nonpareil to
be wandering about the world, all by
yourselfi"
She was grateful for his raillery.
"How young do you think?"
"Let me see. HUM You are only
about She laughed mirthfully at
his air of preposterous wisdom.
about thirteen-fourteen, yes, you
are more than Fifteen, more than
. But take off that enormous hat,
little Nonpareil. There's no use guess
ing in the dark when the moons
shining"
Fran was gleeful. "All right" she
cried in one of her childish tones,
shrill, fresh, ~vibratory with the mu-
sic of innocence.
By this time they had reached the
~foot-bridge that spanned the deep ra-
vine. Here the wagon-road made its
crossing of a tiny stream, by slipping
under the ~foot-bridge, some fifteen
feet below. On the left lay struggling
Littleburg with its four or five hun
dred houses, family %twinkling, and be-
yond the meadows on the right, q
fringe of woods started up as If it did
not belong there, but had come to be
seen, while above the woods swung
the big moon with Fran on the foot
bridge 70 shine for.
Fran's hat dangled idly In her hand
as she drew herself with backward
movement upon the railing. The moon
light was full upon her face; so was
the young mans gaze. One Of her
feet found, after leisurely exploration,
a devastating board upon the edge
of which she pressed her heel for sup
port. The other foot swayed to and
fro above the flooring. while a little
hand on either side of her gripped the
top rail.
Here I am" she said, shaking back
rebellious hair.
Abbott Ashton studied her with
grave deliberation-it is doubtful If he
had ever before so thoroughly en-
joyed his duties as usher. He pro-
nounced judiciaRy, you r older
than you look"
Eyes," Fran explained, my expe-
rience accounts for that. I've had
lots"
Abbott's lingering here beneath the