The Caucasian. (Shreveport, La.) 1900-192?, 1913-06-29

Know. apotogl2eu FhoeDe.
Phoebe futtered 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 taciturn in.
dividual and consequently an ideal
chariotecr. for Miss Dalrymple's usual.
~ 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 quiet
day Second. she thought she had de
tectcd slight smile ut the corner Of
Mr. SCOTS pleasant mouth when he
looked Mt the heart shaped crack in
the windowrane
Fifteen miles strnightaway from the
village. among circling hills that lift
ed their blue green heights to the
bending skies, lay Uncle Morgan Tny
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 WINS 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
ordinations 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 noisy world outside. And
yet. such Is the perversity of human
nature. Phoebe missed something. Aft
or breakfast she took n book and wan
dercd away 10 green meadow where
there was n huge rock overshadowed
by dropping elm. Here Phoebe perch
I'd and read industriously. feebly tri
umphant In that she had ontwitted 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 n dell
Phoebe, too. slumbered.
A crashing explosion broke the still
ness and was echoed back from the
hills IN countless reverberations.
Phoebe Dnlrymple awoke to the be
wildercd realization that something
dreadful had happened-an earthquake
or an event equally terrible. She was
quite stunned by the noise and SUIT
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
gleeful chorus.
Somebody--some boys were celehrat-
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 stifiiy. 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.
Here's good place. Billy-right
on this rock! Now touch her of. I'm
Gle Lee Hurrayw shrilled 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 a big cannon
cracker. and backing away from its
dangerous proximity was Leander
Scott himself.
He took In the situation at glance
Phoebe's book. her white face and the
brown linen dress. 90 like the trunk OF
the elm tree that her presence had
been quite unsupported.
Instantly be 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
mir. and before It reached the brook
toward which he aimed 1t II hurst
with detonatio 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. 1t 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 p,acesl He
had chosen 1t out Of dozen isolated
spots because the Taylors We're deaf
and he had Uncle Morgan's warmest
consent to make MI the noise he want
ed to-
The sight Of the little boys fussing
over the box Of fireworks decided him
With plying glance Mt Miss Phoebe's
dropping form be dashed toward the
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