The Wolf Point herald. (Wolf Point, Mont.) 1913-1940, 1922-04-06

she clutched at the sides of the she
for balance.
! "Gee-you got a temper like steel.
Silence.
! Don't 0 get sore easy, though
; Il amt sore.''
The vigorous dipping of the paddl
and the swift cutting of water.
Say, Gilly, amt you afraid 0
breaking the speed laws?'
: Silence.
a t streaked downward and dice
in its flight. Miss Fink lay fiat back
ward in the boat, her face foreshort
ened and u%pturned.
"ShOotin' stars luck, amt #, GiIly?'
Dunno"
She nestled deeper into her cushion,
n arm flung high in a semicircle
about her head and her lids so low
over her eyes that she might have
been a sleeping Adriana.
Drip-Drip-pl They foated silently,
in a rustic of moving waters.
A smile trembled across Miss Fink's
lips and she opened them so that her
voice came softly, softly:
Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea-e;
Blow, blow, breezes blow,
YIN of the western sea-e-e-e-
The Beach hotel cleaned yellow
from every window as if it were pos
ing for a picture postcard or where
to-spend-your-vacation pamphlet.
h dining room was cleared of it's
aisle-forming tables and it's floor pol
ished to a mirror. At the far end of
the room a clock pricked out in blue
and white electric bulbs gIowed
against a blue and white cheesecloth
background.
Tropical palms, with skilfully dyed
frOnds and twined half way up with
brown cotton moss, huddled in a little
jungle around the piano and violin
accompaniment. Straight around the
desert of room, chairs, backs to wall
and legs touching, awaited action as
a stage library setting, discovered at
the rise of curtain, awaits the en-
trance of the French maid in her four
dollar silk stockings to tickle the fur
niture and the audience with a tiny
feather buster and timer French ac-
cent.
After a while the scratching Of a
violin for it's note and the one finger
Observation-Disclosures on the piano: the
light blather of voices rising to a swell.
Unstylish INT in shotted silk
dresses with waist lines and decent
width skirts and bodices cut high over
bosoms that would have quivered I'M
der baroness. The i%nvitational rhythm
Of waltz music and pink-haired violin
Ist swaying in the palm jungle. A
glided out into the sahara of
floor, another and yet an d
,ther.
Presently a bobbing throng, the
flushed with their primal love s
f the dance, the men in fast whiting b
ollars and out of step. Mr.. Proxies b
a third handkerchief, bib -
ashton, inside his fainting collar and
ook Miss Fink in an Anticipated en-
race of the waltz.
"Whewl"
For the new grand master you amt
DING bad. Proksey-you've taken
very mans wife Of 'em around, amt ;
ou?'
Mr.. Proxies mopped at his face with
fourth handkerchief and writhed in
Is evening clothes as if he would fly
leir broadcloth.
Yes, but it's almost over. The
o'clock song and the passing
the loving cup, and then I'm ready,
ster, for what I been waitin' for all
'ening-guess"
Can't"
THE prettiest and sweetest little
I IN the crowd and a little gray col
ed canoe. II don't like it a bit. your
.cin' around here with all those
Ter fellows-you just wait till Pm
duty"
What l think of these guys!"
1 amt much on dancing myself,
sister, but I'm game-but watch
after the eleven O'Clock 0 puts
off duty and I've started the lovin
around! You and me, sister, and
lttAe gray smell. Ready now, 0ne
acknowledgements
Fink ~pirouetted skilfully
ind Mr.. Proxies heayy-footed am
a wood nymph matching her
lty pace to her favorite Bruin of
forest.
Good, -Proksey-that was a swell
erse. Say, there's a fortune for a
cling teacher out this way"
)ne-two-three ~
Ouch! Lemme try to guide. No,
start over again; just try to
"a keep your feet where mine amt
you'll come out all right"
)ne-two-"
oo-good-now you're all right.
that was my fault. Reverse again
lch l'