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Show AN IDYL OF SUMMER TIME. (By Bessie L. Russell.) They were standing where tbo sun could strike them slant-wise, the womdn and the youth. The youth was young, blonde, and enthusiastic; the woman, stolidly built, dark and phlegmatic. Steadying himself by the grape vine which overhung the latticed gate, the youth exclaimed huskily: "I must go. I see no other way out of It. For you, for mo, it Is best; and best for him, pointing to the stooping figure of a man in a radish bed. I would that it could bo otherwise. God knows I do, Juanita, I love you. To desperation despera-tion I love you, love you, love you." Pausing to mop the perspiration from off- ihis Corliss-Coon colbir, the youth continued yet moVe ardently, "It must be fate, cruel, heartless, relentless fate. Good-bye, Juanita, good-bye' A moment more, and he had passed beyond the woman's range of vision. With the intuition born of despair, Juanita gave one swift, searching glance in his direction, then: "Philip, Philip," she called passionately, "Come back, Philip, dear, if only for one single moment. Come, I beg of you." Wild, with a thousand heart-throbs concentrated concentrat-ed in his palpitating throat, the youth sprang to the woman's side again. "My love, my love," he sighed earnestly. "Do you mean it, can it be that " "Sure!" said Juanita, her one hundred and sixty-two pounds quivering wttl emotion. "Don't you know you hain't paid your board?" St Louis Mirror. |