The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1914-04-09


was Lucille" He noted that here
and there passages were marked with
penciled lines-some light and femi-
ninety delicate, some heavier, as
though two had been reading it to-
gether, noting their Individual prefer
ences.
| He laid it back musingly, and open
ing door, entered the large room it
disclosed This had been the dining
room. At ono end stood a crystal
knobbed mahogany sideboard, holding
| glass candlesticks in the shape of
Ionic columns-above it quaint por-
trait of a lady in hoops and love
huge fireplace with rustsred fire-dogs
and furnished brass fender. Ar these,
with the round centipede table and
the Chippendale chairs set in order
against the walls, were dimmed and
grayed with thick powdering of dust.
The next room that he entered was
big and wide, place of dark colors,
nobly smutched of time. 1t had been
at once library and living-room. A
great leather settee was drawn near
the desk and beside this stood read
| ing-stand with a small china dog and
squat bronze lamp upon it. In con-
trast to the orderly dining-room there
was about this chamber a sense of
untouched disorder-a desk-drawer
| jerked half-open, a yellowed news
paper torn across and flung into cor
ner, books tossed on desk and lounge,
and in the fireplace little heap OF
whitened ashes in which charred frag-
ments told of letters and papers
burned in haste.
Suddenly he lifted his eyes, Above
the desk hung life-size portrait of a
man, in the high soft stock and vel
vet collar of half a century before.
The right eye, strangely. had been Gus
from the canvas. He stood straight
+, and tall. one hand holding an eager
hound in leash, his face proud and
| florid. his single, cold, steelblue eye
staring down through it's dusty curtain
with a certain malicious arrogance.
and his lips set in sardonic curve
that seemed about to sheer. 1t was
| for an instant as if the pictured hgure
confronted the young man who stood
there, mutely challenging his entrance
| into that tomb-like and secret-keeping
quiet: and he gazed back as fixedly,
repealed by the craft of the face, yet
| subtly attracted II wonder who you
WERE" he said you were cruel.
/ rryio1x Rrt
were strong. too"
He returned to the outer hall to find
| that the negro had carried in his
trunk, and he babe him place It, with
| the portmanteau, in the room he had
Just left. Dusk was falling.
Uncle Jefferson" said Valiant alb
ruptly. "have you family?"
mo, sub. Jes' me en- NAH oil
CONAN"
Can she cook?"
Cook" The genial litter again
captured his dusky escort. When
she got de fixens, All reck'n she de
beaten'es cook in his heah county"
How would you both like to live
here with me for while? She could
cook and you could take care of me-"
Uncle Jefferson's eyes seemed to
turn inward with mingled surprise and
introspection. He shifted from one
foot to the other, swallowed difficulty
several times, and said, "Ah ain neb-
bah seed yo befo', sub"
well, / haven't seen you either,
have -"
Oats de trufe, sub, deed ct Is!
Hyuh. hyuh! Whut All means ter
say is dat de OF CONAN kahn COOK
no fancy didoes like what dey eats up
| Norf. She kin jes' cook de Ferginey
style"
THAT sounds good to me-" quoth
Valiant. I'll risk it. Now as to
wages"
"Ah ain specticulous as ter de
wages" said Uncle Jefferson. "Ah
| knows er gemman when All sees one"
Then it's bargain" responded Va
liant with alacrity. Can you come at
once?'
"Yas, sub, me en- Daph gwineter
come ovah fus' thing in de mawn1n'
Whut yo-all gwineter do TO yo' sup
pah?"
'Tll get along" Valiant assured him
cheerfully. Here is five dollars. You
can buy some food and things to
cook with, and bring them with you.
Do you think there's a stove in the
kitchen?'
"Ah reck'n," replied Uncle Jefferson.
''En eff dar ain Daph kin cook er
Chris mus dinnah wild TO- stones en- er
tin skillet Vas, .suh!"
CTO BE CONTINUED