The herald-advance. (Milbank, S.D.) 1890-1922, 1920-06-11

NC bh thC NAuss
II am sure Uncle Bash would be
happy to know you care for these
things so much" | said, noting that
the white roses she had chosen for the
jar-l knew the choice was hers
served to emphasize the deep red Of
Its exquisite glaze.
Il am among the unelect." remark
ed Mrs. F~arnsworth. when am
told that such things are beautiful I
am Immediately convinced. l say
they are beautiful, and that is
enough"
THAT has always been enough for
me-" | replied, MY uncle used to
try to interest me, but he gave it up
when he found that my pagan soul
was aroused by nothing but pottery
idols. l am a %heathen!"
II am gratified that you make the
admission SO frankly" said Mrs. Farms
worth. II have always been a great
admirer of the heather. But, you know,
Mr.. Singleton, Alice and / never can
agree as to just what a heather is.
All our squabbles have been about
that. | am disposed to include all
who believe in fairies good, or bad,
and persons who honestly believe in
signs. omens, and lucky stones and
all who have the receipt of fern-seed
and walk invisible-there's Shakes
peare for that
81 think" said Mrs. Rashford
soberly, that ! have always believed
in witches; and if | keep on believ-
ing ! shall see one some day. We
shall find anything in this world that
we believe in hard enough"
She was talking very gravely, as
though witches were the commonest
topic of conversation, but finding my
eyes turned upon her i'm frank wonder,
she laughed at my amazement.
LET us be honest with you. Mr..
Singleton" Mrs. Farnsworth explained,
"and tell you hat we are just testing
you. 1t may be a breach Of hospital
ity, and you are but a stranger, but
we are curious to know whether you
are of that small company Of the
favored of heaven who can play at
being foolish without becoming idiotic.
Alice is sometimes very near idiocy.
You admit that, Alicei"
81 not only admit II, but I might
even boast of it," my aunt replied.
At the mention Of witches l bad
caught Antoine crossing himself, as he
turned to the sideboard. l confess
that l myself had been startled by the
drift Of the talk. Mrs. Farnsworth
ana my aunt treated each other as
though they were contemporaries, and
If was Alice and Constance between
them. AS the talk ran exhaustively
through the lore of witches and Cob
Inns | had hoped that one or the other
would drop some clue as to the previ-
Gus history of my amazing aunt 1t
was as plain as day that she and
Mrs. Farnsworth INDUCED in whims
for he joy Of it. and her Zest in the
discussion Of witches. carried on while
Antoine served the table, lips tightly
compressed, and with an exaggeration
Of his stately tread, was the more
startling from the fact that my aunt's
90 u obiiO vi a. -
handsome woman with a high-bred air
who did not look at all like a person
who would discuss witches as though
! they had been made the topic of the
day by the afternoon newspapers.
And when the shape of a witch's chin
became the immediate point of dis
| cussion ! knew it was in Antoine's
i mind N1nN c,vnl, Tor .xnc N.
becoming, an offense to the memory OF
Raymond Bashford. Mrs. Farms
wOrth's brown eyes sparkled, and the
color deepened in my aunt's cheeks as
we ~diScOursed upon witches and the
chins thereof. l had a friend in col
lege who used to indulge, in the same
sort of piffiing, but that my uncle's
widow and her elderly companion
should delight in such a~bsurdities be-
wildered me. 1 had been addressing
my aunt as Mrs. BashfOrd-it
seemed ridiculous to call her Aunt
Alice-and in the heat of our argu-
ment as to whether witches are neces-
sarily naughty and malign beings l
had Just uttered the Mrs" when she
bent toward mi and said grayely and
with 20 hint Of archness: Cant we
make it Alice and Bob? / think that
would he a lot friendlier."
i experienced a curious flutter of
the heart the first time | tried it, but
after that it anne very easily. She
was simply the %jolliest, prettiest girl
that had ever crossed my horizon, and
to be talking to her across the table
gave me thrills compared with which
sliding out of clouds in an airplane Is
only a rOc%king-chair pastime for old
men.
We had coffee on the veranda (Alice
thought it would be nicer there), and
as Antoine gave me my cup he edged
close to my chair to whisper:
"That party, sir. II he should
come"
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