Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1921-06-23
COUNTRY MOUSE
BY ADELAIDE r. KEMP.

Lyuld warren 1OlIOWeQ her young
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-length skirt and broad-toed
shoes.
The head waiter, like an execution
er, led them to a lace-trimmed, candle
| bedecked table and obsequiousy as
sisted Lydia out of her questionable
jacket.
She was tired after her morning
shopping in the city, which she had
not visited before for a decade, and
hungry. too. SO she gladly accepted
Marjorie's invitation to d little snack
before catching the afternoon train
home. Unfortunately, as they picked
up their menus, they were joined by
three young girls, friends of Mar
jorie's. and Lydia was left to her own
devices.
"What would you like, auntie?"
said Marjorie, smiling, suddenly re-
membering her duty as hostess.
When the order was placed before
her Lydia at once passed with
shudder the "caviare," which seemed
to be an arrangement of tiny, inky
eggs On a silver of toast, and helped
herself to a bit of the under-done beef
and a spoonful of gravy surmounted
by twig of parsley. She was thank
full the chattering girls did not notice
her ravenous onslaught of the bread
and butter, along with iced water.
And it was with a feeling of deep re-
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.
I used to have such fun at your house
when l was a kiddie," said Marjorie
a bit wistfully as she kissed her good
by.
81 probably won't be down again for
a 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 l WILL"
said Marjorie, dim remembrances
floating through her brain Of the big,
comfortable farmhouse nestled in the
New Hampshire hills. A sharp warn
ing bell caused abrupt good-bys, and
Lydia settled back with sigh Of re-
lief as she thought of home.
In the fall Marjorie, suddenly filled
with a 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 "Poissons" and drew con-
illusions 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.
ave had ours three hours ago."
said Aunt Lydia. II thought you'd
be lonesome in the dining room" She
placed oatmeal and cream, bacon and
eggs, fiaky biscuit and Steaming OdOr-
Gus coffee in front of Marjorie
It was late in November, a verita-
BILE Indian summers day, that Mar
jOrie walked up the long road past
the school house, swinging her hat by
one Of it's 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 dotted 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 I don't feel much the same,
either" answered the girl, happily.
"But l suppose I'll have to return to
the city life in another week." she
added. All the light suddenly went
out Of Philips face.
"Why, 1 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 l 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
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