Advertising|1904-05-06|Evening Express

Advertising

Cite

Share

FURNITURE FOR QUALITY I FURNITURE THAT WILL WEAR FURNITURE AT THE LOWEST POSSIBLE PR.CES I FURNITURE FOR CASH OR ON EASY TERMS I FURNITURE THE BEST AND CHEAPEST IN THE COUNTRY I FURNITURE SOLD RETAIL AT WHOLESALE PRICESf TO GET ALL THIS GO TO THE ATLAS FURNISHING CO HAYES BUILDINGS, CARDIFF. -4

Advertising

Family Notices

Advertising

I F ,.= ' I. I ? Fa:'r?6r…

News

Cite

Share

F ,.= I I Fa:'r?6r b ?? 16? ?iVi i 0-Itk??I. ??%F ;p"?, I was on a wheeling tour and stopped for supper and all night at a forlorn-looking farmhouse. I was surprised to see no woman about, all the work being done hy the owner of the place, Ezra Dale. After supper I lighted a pipe and sat on 'he porch euioking. Dale came and sat beside me. You have finished you evening chores early," I said. "When my wife is without a servant, she never gets the dishes washed before nine o'clock." Waal, ye see, I don't do it that a-way. I wash dishos oncet a week. Then I put 'em all on ter the wagon, drive 'em inter the creek, take a; mop, an' when I get through they shine iike pewter." "Don't you think a wife would be handy? She could do your mending." Don't need no wife. I got needles aa' thread an' buttons There's my kit." And he handed me a case containing the articles mentioned and no more. I Where's your thimble?" I asked. Don't need no thimble. I tried one oncet an' couldn't use it. It's handier to git the head of the needle ag'in the wall an' drive it through that a-way." "Did you never have a love affair?" Yes, oncet. It was when I was a young feller—very young an' very green. I used to look on a, gal as a heathen would look on a sacred image. There was a little one livin' across the creek, Farmer Owens' daughter Daisy. Purty? Ye bet, an' gentle as a kitten. She tuk a shine to me. I was a fair- lookin' young fel:er then, straight an' slim an' light on my feet. One evenin' I was a- passin' Farmer Owens', and Daisy came runnin' out with her finger a-bleedin' an' asked me ter tie it up fur her. I had to git her arm under mine somehow an' hold on ter her hand an' wrap the linen strip an' wind the string an' a lot, of things all at the same time. Whte I was a-doin' of it her hair got my cheek, an'—waul, I lo-sl my head an', turnin', put my arm around her an' kissed her. Do ye know, ft ranker, I've since mode up JIl; mind done it all a-purposc. 1 b'lieve she cut her linger omentiontilly. I tell yc, women folks is tricky." 1 think that was a very nice feminiue way of catching your attention," I remarked. Co oil." That's jist what I did do. I went on from day ter day, week ter week, till it seemed to me if anything happened between me 'an that gal I'd collapse. Somethin' did happen. Farmer Owens tuk a farm hau' fur the hayin', an' what did Daisy do but take him out in her buggy that her father bought fur her at Christmas an' drive right by that house a-purpose ter eliow him off ter me. I tell ye, stranger, she had the wickedest eye iu her ye ever see." Another feminine trait," I observed. 'Miss Daisy was evidently a woman." "She was a, woman, stranger, an' the worse kind of UL one," Dale went lugubriously. She broke me all Up. I jist reiited this farm an' went away. I didn't come back fur ten years., Then I made up my mind that women I folks wasn't wnth worry in' about, an' I tuk my farm ag'in an' began ter work it. The fast time I went by Fanner Owens' Daisy come out—she had grown to be a fine lookin' young woman of twenty-six—an' what do ye suppose she did?" "I can't imagine." Asked me if I wouldn't tie up a cut finger. She had the same wicked look in her eye she had when she drove that lopsided farm han' by my house ten years afore. Women is the pesistentest crittera I ever eee. I jist squared off an' said Ye don't git me that a-way agin. Ye done it oncet, an' that's enough.' But, do ye know, stranger, she was so slick about it that in five minutes I had my arm about her an' she was li- restin' her head on my shoulder. She was a-cryin', too-crrin' crockerdile tears, no doubt. ¡ Waal, we was engaged, but it didn't las' long. The question come up as ter whether we'd be married by a justice or a parson, I I don't like parsons xnyseif, an' I wanted a justice. Daisy wanted a parson, an' she was so blame set about it that I reckoned if she was as obstinate about a small matter like that she'd be want-in' ter run the farm, si I called the thing off, an' I've been livin' alone here ever since." Mr. Dale," I said, "you have mistaken natural feminine traits for general cussed- II neas." That's what they is, I tell ye, stranger. Ye don't understand." You have declined to give up that which to a, woman is a great deal, while to you it is nothing. Miss Owens was right to insist on being married by a parson, and you were ungenerous to refuse her. Now, let me give you a bit of advice. Miss Owens is still single? Yes. Well, go to her and tell her that when you first, met her you were a blundering idiot and that later you were an obstinate brute. Say that if she will over- look your past errors yon will spend your life in doing penance." lvhy, stranger, if I was ter do that I'd never have my own way about anything afterwards." It is the only way to have your own way about everything with a. woman. Toss it all into her hands, and she'll toss it right back to you. More than that, she'll expect you to lead, and if you don't lead she'll not I respect you." "Ye don't mean it! Say, stranger, what I sort of a makeup do ye call that anyway?" The next summer I rode past Farmer Dale's place. It was the trimmest looking farm in the country. After supper the farmer told me how much better contented he was while Mrs. Dale was washing the dishes. EDGAR PENNINGTON. TO-MORROWS TALES-" THE END OF V FREAK," by Annott-e Overton, and" OX THE VERGE," by F. A. Mitchel.

I A WISE CHILD.I

[No title]

The - "! of to Debt 1-1#zJI.it1$-t08*,q-I-

News

Cite

Share

The of to Debt 1-1 # zJ I i t 1 $- t 0 8 *,q- I- A party of noblemen were amusing them- selves shooting near Dijon, France. After a shot by the Marquis of Toui- aimed at some- thing seen indistinctly in a thicket, a, humaa cry was heard. The party rushed to the point whence it proceeded and found a young girl or sixteen lying on the ground bleeding from a bullet wound in her side. From the OPj1(L"itc dir2ctiua a man came hurrying, and whcti he saw what had happened he took the girl up in his arms and, shaking his fist at the huntsmen, cursed them for what had been done It is thus that yon overrun our peaceful fields, you nobles who never toil, but feed on what we common people produce? And, not content with wasting the fruils of our toil, you ruthlessly shoot our children with- out taking the trouble to discover that they 'are not birds. Wait, messieurs! The day will come when we will cruh you under our heel- It was an accident," replied the marquis. "Here; take this, throwing him a golden louis. "Were it not for your threats I would make it ten times as much. Come, mcssieuri. Let us go on." The party proceeded on their way, but bad not gone a dozen yards before the coin was sent spinning past the ear of the marquis. One gentleman, a young fellow ot twenty, remained behind. Kneeling beside the girl, he stanched the blood with his cambric handcrchief, then said to her father: Let us carry her to her home. I atn a student in the Paris School, of Medicine. I will sec what I can do for her. Henri Duriac did not leave the home of Antoine Gamier until the daughter, Lizette, was out of danger. Indeed, he alone saved her life. The country doctors of that day knew nothing of surgery and could not have carried safely through such a dangerous casx>. Three weeks bad elapsed when the young (Joel" said lo Gamier: The cri,<i~ has pnsst'd. Any physician can now alteiul to the dressing of the \I, lUll d." 1) H UT." replied lilt fa'.hei', why hivO you taken this trouble? You are a noble." Yes, but I am a man." You have given me the life of my daughter. Some day I may repay you." "I do not need money, and I trust that I may never need your assistance," replied the young surgeon. Eighteen years later came the Reign of Terror. Henri Dariac, no-.v Count Duriac, was about to be arretted, but succeeded in escaping across the border. This was the I beginning, before the revolutionists had become so drukeu with blood that they, sacrincsd women and children. Count Duriac had been married, and his wife and his daughter. Louise, were about to follow him when they received a warning not to attempt to do so. lime. Duriac, though beloved by all the lyrovit" ill- she lived, was at lad arrested ard with her daugtei- taken to the conciergerie in Paris. One day they were led out to be tried. For what? For being of noble birth. A. man sat behind a rude table, ready to act as judge and jury to send prisoners to tha guillotine. Mme. Drriac and Louise sat. waiting their turn, watching the people who were pronounced traitors to France" marched away to die. A portly man, who showed by his dre.s and bearing that he was an aristocrat, stood before this self- constituted tribunal. "Your name?" asked the judge. I am the Marquis of Tours." The judge flushed. Do you remember, marquis, hunting for birds and s'hootiug a maiden?" The marquis paled, but said nothing. "Traitor to France said the judge. "Take him away:" In half an hour the marquis' head rolled into the basket. Next!" These," said a gendarme, "are tha Countess Duriac and her daughter." The judge started. Madame," he said, you are accused of being a traitor to France. What is your defence?" I make no defence. Defence would be useless." H'm!" said the judge. "Take these women to the little gaol in Rue St. Jacques and bring them here to-morrow for sentence. The executioner is too to-day to attend to them." That night a muffled figure appeared before the little gaol in Rue St. Jacques and pre- sented an order for Mme. and Louise Duriac. Throwing a mantle over each to conceal her features and especially her attire of a gentle. woman, he led them through some of the narrowest streets in Paris. Stopping suddenly, beside a. carriage and opening the door, he bade them enter Not doubting for a moment that they were going to the guillotine, they obeyed, and their conductor mounted the box beside the coaohman, and they were driven beyond the barrier. Stopping now and again for fresh horses, they travelled until at last they heard the splashing of waves. Then they were directed, to alight and were put into a boat. Take this letter to Count Duriac, madame," said the conductor, "and tell him that the man who gave it to you may sooa be executed as a traitor to France." The prisoners were rowed to an English. I vessel standing off the ooast and in an hour were sailing for England. Once on board Mme. Duriac opened the letter to her husband. and read: Count—Eighteen years ago a fiend shot. my daughter, and a noble titved her for me. I have sent the fiend to the guillotine, and I have sent the noble two lives for the one he g'ave me. MARY BLAKE CRANDALL.

Welsh Newspapers

Evening Express

10 articles on this Page

Advertising

Advertising

Family Notices

Advertising

I F ,.= ' I. I ? Fa:'r?6r…

I A WISE CHILD.I

[No title]

The - "! of to Debt 1-1#zJI.it1$-t08*,q-I-

COULDN'T UNDERSTAND IT.

- WARNED.

Welsh Newspapers

Evening Express

10 articles on this Page

Advertising

Advertising

Family Notices

Advertising

I F ,.= ￼' ￼I. I ? Fa:'r?6r…

I A WISE CHILD.I

[No title]

The - "! of to Debt 1-1#zJI.it1$-t08*,q-I-

COULDN'T UNDERSTAND IT.

- WARNED.

I F ,.= ' I. I ? Fa:'r?6r…