Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 304, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 December 1915 — THE RED EAR [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE RED EAR

By MARCELLA DUBOIS.

With a shriek of excitement and glee the prettiest girl at Farmer Doane's husking bee jumped up from the stool she had occupied, scattering a great heap of corn all about h,er and daringly, invitingly waving above her head the third red ear found within the hour. There was a grand rush after her as she darted through the broad open doorway of the great barn out into the moonlight, to lead her eager pursuers a brisk chase. *' There was one young man who did not join the group, however. This was Abel Drake. Also, taking no part in the mad rush, but smiling indulgently after the receding mad. laughing, cheering crowd, Alice Leslie kept on mechanically tearing the husk from the ear of corn In her hand. She was not conscious that she had uncovered the tip of a blood-red ear until the companion by her side and escort uttered the quick words In eager breathlessness : "Why, Alice, you are a lucky one, too!" He was a bashful, reticent young fellow, and as Alice flushed his embarrassment was equal to her own. The penalty of finding a red ear was a kiss, but Alice had not invited a chase for the conquest. Her eyes wore almost a frightened look. As Abel, smiling slightly, moved towards her, in his ardent soul craving the salute as the fondest boon in the world, she shrank back. "Oh, please no!” she fluttered. "Nobody ever kissed me —except my brother.” “Nobody ever let me kiss them at all,” observed Abel, quite gravely. “I wish I was your brother!” and then he

added: “But don’t deny me one pleasure, Alice. Let me have the red ear as a —a memento, won’t you?” She extended It towards him eagerly. Her heart thrilled, almost sorry was she that she had denied this hon-est-eyed, clean, earnest, lovable fellow his wish. He was a loyal friend and she knew that he fairly worshiped her. She tried to make amends by being more than gentle and attentive to him the rest of the evening. She was touched infinitely as she noted that he placed the red ear inside his vest on the side nearest to his heart. Alice talked of a social gathering a week ahead as though it was a settled fact that Abel would be her escort upon that occasion as usual. He was not very responsive, however, and left her at the home door as though something had depressed and chilled him. “Poor fellow!” sighed Alice regretfully as they finally parted. “He is so good, so true, and I am afraid I hurt his feelings. I hope he does not think I would rather have somebody else—oh, dear! I wish —”

That he had kissed her! There, that was the truth, and she hid her bonny face in her hands, half-shamed, half-delighted, and ran into the house red as a peony and hoping that Abel really would cherish the strange souvenir he had so craved. Humble, self-deprecatory, Abel Drake had ever considered that he was fairly unworthy the beautiful girl, to him a goddess. He compared himself despairingly with the self-important young men he met. He began to believe that Alice liked him as a friend, but beyond that —she had shrunk from paying the penalty of the read ear of corn. The realization of this wounded his sensitive nature and discouraged all love pretensions. It was the third day after the husking bee that Alice, busy about the

kitchen, was startled and then terrified as a neighbor’s boy about eight years of age came rushing in at the doorway, his face colorless and his eyes a-stare with fright. “Oh, Miss Alice!” he bolted out—"little Ina!” "My little sister —what of her, quick! has she come to any harm?” cried Alice, her mind taking vivid alarm. “She was playing boat with a tub,” panted forth her informant “It tipped over. Drown-ded!” was the ominous concluding word. With a wild shriek Alice dashed towards the river which bounded the rear of the lot She saw people rushing down the shore, two forms struggling in midstream to reach dry land. She saw a man gain it drop his dripping burden, reel and sink prostrate. g Alice arrived breathless and an-

gulshed at the acene of the rescue, to see little Ina, scared and trembling, but unhurt and alive, and she gathered her up in her arms with a choking sob. Amid the confused babel of bussing voices she made out that the man who had rescued her little sister had gone through a terrible struggle in getting out of the swift river current, and several men were striving to restore him to consciousness. Alice uttered a sharp cry as she glanced down at the Inanimate form—it was that of Abel Drake. "Oh, he is not dead —tell me! tell me!” quavered Alice, and then, as the man kneeling beside Abel unloosed his collar, he announced: •'Give him air. He is only exhausted.”

Then Alice thrilled. In folding back the collar of the prostrate man a ribbon about his neck was disclosed. As it was disengaged, attached to its end Alice saw the souvenir, the red ear of corn. “Give it to me!” burst forth Alice, and then shrank within herself; but, with a wondering look, the man who had disengaged the souvenir obeyed her bidding. She clasped it and the rescued Ina closer to her bosom and drew back from the anxious circle and did not leave the spot until it was announced that Abel had recovered, but was still weak, and a vehicle was brought to send him home. Half a dozen times that day Alice sent a messenger to receive almost hourly bulletins as to the condition of Abel. The reports were encouraging. A grateful, happy girl, some new spirit of emotion seemed borne into her through that day’s exciting occurrences.

Her whole being glowed as, about noon the next day, the gate clicked and Abel Drake, looking somewhat pale but otherwise apparently none the worse for his experience of the previous day, entered the garden. Alice greeted him with a genuine welcome of joy and gratitude. "You are so kind to come to —to relieve our anxiety,” she said. “Why, even little Ina has been longing to see you and thank you for your great, great bravery!” "It was fortunate I was at hand when the tub upset,” said Abel. “I missed something when I recovered — the souvenir. I understand you have iL lam quite lonesome without it” Alice flushed and trembled. She dropped her glance in embarrassment as the clear, kindly eyes of Abel rested upon her. Then her own flashed. A daring resolve actuated her. “Come,” she said simply, and led the way to a side window, upon the sill of which rested the souvenir, left there to dry out after its bath in the river. “Thanks —” began Abel, extending a hand to receive the ear of corn.

“Not until you win it!” cried Alice, and darted away light as a fawn. He was staggered at the challenge. Then his wits directed him. What a wild, joyous chase it was! Under a great tree he caught her. The delirium of delight swayed him as his lips met hers —and her his own willingly. “Shall we own the souvenir together you and I, after this?” he ventured to suggest, with heart of hope, but dubious. “Yes!” her soft whisper reassured him, and all the world was sunshine. (Copyright. 1915. by W. G. Chapman.)

'Nobody Ever Kissed Me —Except My Brother."