Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1920-09-02
POTAIRO
BY SADIE STULL.

denly she almost dropped her precious
"find."
'YOu threw PotaEo away" she ac-
cused with quiyering lips.
Land o. love! Wasn't it time? TIL
old heather has disfgger'd tn parlor
mantel since yer Grandfather Jared's
last voyagew
That's why 1 loved him-why I
believe in him !"
"Stuff an ponsensew Aunt James
angular form disappeared from the
porch. A moment later her tart voice
reminded from the Kitchen: 'Them
peas amt shelled yet an IT'S nigh 10
O'clOck!"
Jane Emma gave Potairo's ugly
bronze yisage a final rub with the
corner Of her apron. Then, with a
quaint little obeisance she placed the
ancient idol atop the gate-pOst. The
incongruity of it made her laugh aloud.
From the temples Of Iris and Osiris
to presiding oracle of Aunt James
prim New England garden was indeed
a far cry!
AS she surveyed the effect from the
porch steps Jane Emma laughed again
this time more softly. The spell the
strange talisman had cast over her
since early childhood seemed more po-
tent than usual this bright June
morning.
AS though touched by flower ma
gician'S wand Aunt James prize holly
hooks became queenly iris bordering
the sluggish Nile The rattle of the
peas in the brightly secured pan
seemed the echo Of tinkling cymbals,
while above the weird strains Of Egyp-
tan music sounded a voice of beloved
memory
Superstition and Jared Lane never
sailed the same course till tn day a
parcel @ slick tongued natives spun
their good luck yarn about Potairo.
Though one O. the lesser gods they
vowed he wus a mighty powerful one
-pertick'ly in affairs O tn heart" A
chuckle invariably punctuated the old
salts narrative at this juncture. "Ye
see, there was mighty important
question I wus goin' ter ask a certain
lass when we reached tn home port
so I up and shipped the queer little
cuSS-at their own price"
A big black touring car had stopped
directly in front of the gate. It's oc-
cupant, handsome woman just past
middle age, beckoned to Jane Emma.
In her haste to respond the latter
nearly upset the pan of peas.
"My dear, how came you by this
ancient idol?"
The voice was the sweetest and sad
dest Jane Emma had ever heard. 1t
impressed her even more deeply than
the strangers somber dress. It in
spired her to tell POtairo's story as
she had never told it before.
When she had finished there was
reminiscent light in her listeners eyes
that banished years from their pain
Swallowed depths.
"My dear, l was reared mid just
such surroundings. That's why your
idol instantly caught my eye In my
girlhoOd home was very similar one
which my dear sailor father brought
from a far Eastern port. Despite
SOOTHING relatives / regarded it in the
same romantic light as you do, Pota-
iro-"
The lady smiled as she concluded
softly: "My faith was richly reward
ed-as l now pray yours may be! All,
is there someone already"
The telltale color deepened in Jane
Emmas cheeks Ere she was aware,
she had confided to this kindly
stranger, her hearts most guarded Sc
cret; the homely little romance Of
which Neighbor Peter Wayne was the
hero.
"He Is twenty-six you say?" The
misty blue eyes rested on the mourn
ing band on the chauffeur's arm. "Just
the age Of my own dear boyw
When the evening shadows brought
respite from household duties, Jane
stole away to her favorite garden re-
treat-to live again the scene of the
morning
Came the sound of familiar step
and Neighbor Peter stood before her.
With the old teasing laugh he shook
the tlower-laden boughs above her
head. Before she could brush the
clinging petals from her hair he caught
her close in his arms.
'Its come, girl-the turn O. for
tunes tide! I've found a buyer for
that shore property or rather''-his
merry voice growing serious-"she
found me. It's the dear lady you gave
the flowers to. She's to build a bunga-
1ow-where she says her heart has
always been-near the sea. Further,
she says to watch our growing happi-
ness will give her a new interest in
life"
We'll have a wedding the old town
will long remember, eh, lass o. mine?
What's that must properly thank
Potairo? Sure, will! No lover of old
Egypt ever paid him more willing
homagew
They had taken but a few steps