Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 79, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 April 1912 — Betsey’s Name [ARTICLE]

Betsey’s Name

“Betsey! Betsey!” “Yes, father. I’m coming.” She stepped round the curve of the veranda aB she spoke. “Where have yon been all these hours?” grumbled Mr. Whittlesey. “Hours!” laughed Betsey in response. “Why it is barely twenty minutes since I went in to give Sally her instructions for the day, and we have been rushing things at a great rate. Now I am at at your service again—hut just think how you would feel if I really should leave you for a. long time," Bhe ended teasingly. “I suppose that is all I have to look forward to now.” Her father gave a dismal groan. “Just take a fancy to some young limb you happen to moelr and then—presto—my baby is turned Into a lovesick maiden, with her poor old dad utterly forgotten.” Hia daughter assured him that falling in love was altogether outside of her plan of life and the last thing be need worry about Richard Whittlesey had had tp play the part of father and mother both, ever since Betsey was three years old. .Now she was entering her twentieth year, and her father was more than grateful that so far her interest in the masculine had been wholly centered on himself. She laughed again as she asked, “What young man of this present generation do you suppose would want a wife with such an old-fashioned name as ‘Betsey?’ How you could ever have given it to me just because it was my great-grandmother's is more than I can understand. But at least I has marked me out of the matrimonial market.” “I only wish it had," declared her father. "I would have called you ‘Hippopotamus’ If It might have had any such effect” “At least I can he thankful that yon did not have that awful thought In time to do any harm. But really I think that such a good * father and such a poor name as mine, between them, should make a voluntary old maid out of anyone.” “And yet that statement from one of your advanced years does not give me the safe and secure feeling that yon Intend it to.” "Every year that passes will make you feel a little surer, anyhow,” consoled Betsey, “now let’s go for a ride.” An hour later, as they were speeding smoothly along the lake road, they noticed ahead of them a saddled horse nibbling the grass at the roadside. Richard Whittlesey was driving, and stopped his car heßide the horse. “Must be something wrong,” said jMir. Whittlesey, "I never saw this Ihorse before." He reached across* to smooth the horse’s nose, then secured his bridle and passed it to Betsey. "Soe If he will let you hold him white I start the car.” He returned to his seat* and they slowly moved ahead. The horse followed without restst- , ance. After traveling a few rods they came to a sharp curve in the road. As they turned thlß they came upon -A-man clad in riding clothes. He was hitching painfully along on foot and a stout staff. As soon as he saw the horse he cried, **Tou old rascal! what do yon mean by deserting me this way?” The animal, giving a little whinny, pnlled away from Betsey and trotted to his master. “Had an accident?” asked Richard Whittlesey, as he stopped the car. "Tes, and a mighty silly one, too,” -answered the stranger. “I climbed on top of the bluff at that steepest place to get a view across the lake, and coming down I stepped on a thin edge of rock, which gave way with me, so I came the rest of the way in about half a second.” He smiled cheerfully as he added, "Guess I broke -the small bone of my left leg. Can’t use it at aIL” “Then the sooner you get In with us and let me take yon to a surgeon, the better off you will be.” Jumping down, Mr. Whittlesey bundled this unexpected passenger Into the tonneau as gently as possible. "You are very kind." The stranger's lips looked blue from the pain of his broken bone, but his voice was still cheerful. “Though I doubt if such stupidity as mine is deserving -of so much consideration.'’ “Folks have to get used to our -crumbly style of rocks," Mr. Whittlesey said. “Come along, Colonel, called the stranger to his horse, and that obedient animal followed after them like a well-trained dog. They were not far from the lake Tillage, and Inside of a short time a surgeon was setting the broken bone. “Broken In two places,” he informed them when his task was completed; “good, square breaks both of them, only means keeping quiet with the foot In a chair for five or six weeks.” “But wf*re am I to spend all that timer’ questioned his patient “Is there a boarding house in this place? 1 have no friends within several hundred miles —was just riding Colonel through this pert because I had been told of the magnificent scenery.” "There are two good boarding houses,” began the doctor, ard Whittlesey interrupted him “He is going back In the car with us. doctor; 1 can look after him and keep him from dying of the blues.” "Now that is more than good oi woo.” thfe injured mad Mid, gratefully.

By M. DIBBELL

(Ooprright, ins, by Aatorisfd literary Press.)

“But yon must not bother yourself out of all reason on my account” “Not another word," his host announced. “This stranger is not going to be left at an inn; he iB coming home with me.” The doctor and Mr. Whittlesey helped the man back into the car. Betsey was petting Colonel when they appeared. “He is the deareßt horse I ever knew,” she said to his owner, as he gave Colonel a pat in passing. “That he is,” he agreed heartily. “It was only my faliing on him all in a heap that gave him such a shock that he ran around the corner.” Richard Whittlesey told his daughter of his invitation to their passenger. “He would die of being talked to death at either of the village boarding houses,” ho concluded. "And I knew yon would approve of saving a fellow being from such a dismal end.” “It is lovely of you, father —but then you are always thinking how to do nice things for everybody,” said Betsey admiringly. “You can amuse the master, and I will make love to Colonel.” Betsey grew fonder of Colonel every day, and her father and Colonel* master —whose name proved to be Max Pleyfair—became great friends. Betsey took part in many of her father’s discussions with their guest, and the crippled man seemed never to find his imprisonment anything bat enjoyable. Five weeks passed before he was able to attempt walking, and on the day that he first limped about a little, his host was surprised to realize how much he would miss his visitor. “Of course he will rush off the minute he can walk at all," grumbled Mr. Whittlesey to himself, “the smartest, clear-est-headed youngster I ever met —and how away he goes.” The following day Max Pleyfair broached the subject of his departure. “I can never thank you enough for your kindness,” he assured Mr. Whittlesey., “Bht now I am able to get about I must stop trespassing on your hospitality and go back to work.” “Just wha" I expected,” growled the elder man. "When we get well enough acquainted to begin to understand each other ttVen duty squalls for you —you know that you are always welcome here, m? boy." “I wonder if I should be as welcome If I made a feStrful revelation?” asked his goestV "Try me and see," answered Richard Whittlesey bluntly. “Well, then, here goes! Mr. Whittlesey, I did nut come through this region for the Sake of the soenery, it was for your daughter’s sake. Your cousins told me about you both and showed me her picture, which I must tell you—though it sounds foolish — that I fell in lovt? with at once. I went up that bluff to catch a glimpse of your place—its location had been described to me—and I was' thinking so deeply on my way down how I was to make any headway with the cruel father of my Imprisoned prinoess, that I fall headlong; but I hope Into hia “gObdgraceß." Richard Whittlesey regarded the speaker with astonishment, which slowly turned to amusement. “Yon young scoundrel, to have the nerve to tell such a yarn to an unhappy father,” he laughed, giving the offender a sounding thump on his shoulders. “Yes, you scamp, you did fall into my affections, and if you can get a ‘Yes’ from Betsey, there won't be any resistance here.’’ “Thank you more than ever,” and Max limped away to meet Betsey who was Just coming up the steps, while petting Colonel at the same time. To her Max poured forth the whole story. That young woman was literally swept from her feet, for no suggestion of her awful name had any effect on this persevering young man. “What could I do, daddy, when both yon and my name went hack on me?” Betsey asked her father afterward. “And there was Colonel wanting me to say ‘yes’ just as plainly as coaid be—l simply could not belp myself.”