The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1920-06-18
Epening Story
A Bissextile Boomerang.
BY DORA NOLAN.


love must be accredited to no lesser
artist than Dame Nature herself. She
alone was responsible for the ample
tree, the fringe of alders growing
along the brookside, the orchestral &C
compartment of water slipping over
the stones.
To be sure. a man acting all I'M
knowingly the role of stage carpenter
had knocked together the rustic bench
which stood under the tree; but the
materials were of her design and col
oring. 1t was she who supplied the
blue of the June sky, the tender green
of the foliage and the neutral tints of
tree trunk and shaded waters.
Into this setting came tripping a
dainty maiden, fair as is the wont of
leading ladies. She seated herself on
the bench, spread out her skirts of
yellow organdie. and opening a sweet
grass basket, took therefrom a tiny
silver shuttle and a ball of thread.
After a moment spent in apprecia-
tive enjoyment of her surroundings
the shapely head with its crown of
dusky braids bent over the little shut
tie as it busily thrust it's nose in and
out of the thread. forming intricate
loops and knots under the guidance of
tapering fingers.
"Oh, Miss Nanniei Telephone"
The busy fingers stopped short in
their task and the sweetgrass basket
found itself in sole possession of the
bench as the girl hurried up path
in the direction of the voice.
Five minutes later she returned, but
the work lay neglected and the black
eyes were bent thoughtfully upon the
brown water, ever slipping over the
stones. Then, from the direction
whence had come the voice, sounded
a CHEEKY whistle. Hastily the shuttle
started again on its bobbing
1t was youth whose footsteps fol-
lowed close upon the whistle slen-
der youth with sandy hair. who blush
ed like a schoolboy as he acknowl-
edged the girls greeting.
81 say. Nan, it's great day! You
you look great in that dress too.
And it's gr-bully to find you alone"
For a recent graduate of cele-
brated university. Ned. your vocabu-
tiYes this afternoon" There was a
hint of amusement in the girls voice,
but her eyes. downcast upon her work,
were seriously grave.
you know I'm always tongue-tied
when 1 try to talk seriously with you.
Cousin Nell is coming on the 4:10 and
I promised mother to meet her. That
| only gives me half an hour. And I've
got something I want TOTO ask you"
Tina listening. Ned" During the
somewhat prolonged pause that fol-
| lowed the girl did not lift her eyes
from the shuttle. The young man
gazed at the girl, at the brook, at the
alders. up at the maple tree, then back
at the girl. What his lips said plainly
was not at all what his brain had COM
manded them to say.
I'm going to miss you like every
thing, Nan. when I go away"
IT'S nice to be missed, Ned" Nan
answered demurely.
Ned Barton looked nervously at his
watch. "Only twenty minutes more.
u III
Louis is so far away, very likely
won't get up to see you more than
once all winter. Dad expects me to
stick there and make good, you know"
Moments passed. The girl did not
reply, but apparently listened with
serenity to the joyous trill of song
sparrow that filled in the pause.
Il don't suppose that will bother
you, tho!' 1t was the pouting bitter
ness of self-deprecating boyhood that
spoke.
The shuttle came to an abrupt stop.
Nan Stacy. her eyes on the brown wa
tiers slipping by. spoke in her usual
soft tone, tho in her own ears her
voice rang louder than the clashing of
| cymbals:
perhaps you would be happier in
| st. Louis, Ned. If l were there with
you-as your wife"
| Barton gazed at the girl for a mo-
ment in incredulous bewilderment.
| Then he laid his hands gently on her
shoulders, turning her to him so that
| he could read the wonderful truth
| that was in her eyes: "Do-can you
mean that, Mani" And all the joyous
| trill of the song sparrow, the laughing
| of the waters, and the gentle signing
of the maple leaves were in his voice.
Half an hour elapses between the
first and second acts of this little
| comedy.
Nan Stacy sat on the same bench.
but the shuttle was idle in her lap.
| Her soft black eyes were again bent
on the brown waters still slipping by
Her heart echoed the song of the little
brown bird overhead. A whistle sound
ed from the direction of the path.
followed by laughing voice.
Hello, Mani Just saw Ned disap-
pearing down the highway in a cloud
of dust. Looked as If he were pur-
sued by the wrath of Color a motor
- onsSeFk5S "a