Owingsville outlook., 1921-06-09
COUNTRY MOUSE
BY ADELAIDE r. KEMP.

niece automatically down the valley
of palms and gilt, called In common
parlance Peacock alley" With burn
ing cheeks she passed the gamut OF
critical eyes that looked askance at
her ankle-lcngth skirt and brOadtoed
shoes.
The head waiter. like an execution
er, led them To a lace-trimmed. candle
bedccked table and obscquiOusly as
sisted Lydia out of her questionable
jacket
She was tired after her morning
shopping i'm the city, which she had
not visited before for decade, and
hungry, too. So she gladly accepted
Marjorie's invitation to Il little snack
before catching the afternoon train
home. Unfortunately, as they picked
up their menus they were Joined by
jorie'S, and Lydia was left to her own
devices.
'What would you like. auntie?"
said Marjorie, smiling. suddenly re-
memhering her duty as hostess.
When the order was placed before
her Lydia at once passed with
Shuddcr the "caviarc," which seemed
10 be an arrangement Of tiny, inky
eggs on silver Of toast. and helped
herself to bit of the under-done beef
and n spoonful Of gravy surmounted
by twig of parsley. She was thank
full the chattcring girls did not notice
her ravenOuS onslaught of the bread
and butter, along with iced water.
lief that, finding IT later than they
thought she and Marjorie hurried
away TO the train.
"And, auntie, dear, do come down
again when you can make us visit.
| used to have such fun at your house
when | was a kiddie," said Marjorie
bit wiStfully as she kissed her good
by.
II probably won't be down again for
n long time" said Lydia honestly.
"But I'd love to have you come up
and make Uncle Seth and me a visit"
"Tll see. Auntie, maybe | WILL"
said Marjorie. dim remembrances
floating through her brain of the big,
comfortable farmhouse nestled in the
New Hampshire hills. sharp warn
ing bell caused abrupt gOOd-bys, and
Lydia settled back with n sigh Of re-
lief as she thought Of home.
In the fall Marjorie, suddenly filed
with longing for the hills, went to
Warren Corners for a visit. Aunt
Lydia met her at the little station.
"Whatever have you been doing to
yourself, child?" she asked abruptly.
you look tired to DEATH"
'"TOO many late hours, auntie dear.
I've just come up here to rest" an
swered Marjorie. Her aunt remem-
bered the "Possons" and drew con-
clusiOns of her own.
A long nights sleep brought a tinge
Of pink TO MarjOrie's pale cheeks.
Breakfast was waiting for her at one
end of the spOtless kitchen table.
I'VE had ours three hours ago."
said Aunt Lydia. Il thought you'd
be lonesome in the dining room" She
I Itmeal and cream, bacon and
g.. biscuit and steaming odOr-
in front Of Marjorie.
a, IS late in November. a verita-
BILE Illdian summers day, that Mar
jOrie walked up the long road past
the 81 }sol house, swinging her hat by
one Of its dull blue velvet ribbons.
Her eyes were bright, and there was
a CHEEKY glow in her piquant face.
A young man, brOad-shouldered and
keen-eyed, was coming down the road.
MarjOrie's cheeks turned to a deeper
scarlet. She knew it to be Philip
Mason who owned the lovely old farm
house that nestled among the gray
hills just above Aunt Lydia's. He
had made life in the country addi-
tiOnally pleasant. He dOffed his cap
as he met her and exclaimed, Good
ness! You don't look much as you did
when you first came, Miss Marjorie"
"And | don't feel much the same,
either" answered the girl, happily.
"But Shppose I'll have to return to
the city life in another week." she
added. All the light suddenly went
out of Philips face.
"Why, l thought you would stay all
winter" he said, duly.
Mercy, what would poor Aunt Ly-
dia dO?" exclaimed Marjorie, adding
with a merry laugh, "Why, she's had
to teach me how to cook so could
help her get me enough TO eat"
The sun had gone down while they
were talking, and on the horizon the
hunters moon was beginning to send
its glow over the stubbly hills. Philip
quietly took Marjorie's hand in his
it was the old story of the moon, the
man and the maid.
Unmindful of waiting supper or
chores they finally reached home, and
Aunt Lydia knew by their happy faces
what they would tell her later. She
insisted on Philips coming in for a
bite of supper" and he gladly ac-
cepted her invitation.
1t was Saturday night and the big
table was covered with good things
smoking baked beans, steaming
brOwn-bread, a gOodly array of pies
and cakes. Marjorie was hungry af-
ter her long walk, and, despite the
fact that she was very much in love
and that Philip kept adoring eyes on
her, she did full Justice to the meal.
Suddenly she looked at Aunt Lydia
and laughed merrily.
"Oh, Auntie! VIII you ever forget
your lunch with the poor city mOuse7
And did we ever dream that one day
she would become a country mouse
herself?"
MopLe