Jasper County Democrat, Volume 2, Number 39, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 December 1899 — AN AMERICANGIRL ABROAD [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

AN AMERICANGIRL ABROAD

BY WILLIAM BLACK.

CHAPTER I. “And do choose a nice one this time!'’ nays a small woman, with, pleading, soft brown eyes. “Jnst fancy those long days and weeks —in far out-of-the-way places; I want someone who is very, very pretty, and very, very delightful, to be my companion. Never mind about her being a heroine. Everybody can’t be a heroine. I went somebody who will be merry at dinner, and cozy to walk with on the moonlight nights; and I don't care twopence about her character *’ "What?" . “You know quite well what I mean. I detest strong-minded women —they should all be sitting on school boards, like a row of owls. Character! You can’t kiss force of character; but you can kiss Peggy Rosslyn.” “You mean you can." “Well?" says .Mrs. Threepeuny-bil, with a stare. “Isn't that enough?" “H’m! However, it's Perry Rosslyn you’ve fixed upon? Well. I shouldn’t have called her so uncommonly pretty. Let’s see. Her eyes—her eyes are rather glassy, aren't they?” “I think they art* most beautiful eyes,” •ays this small creature, warmly. "Why. they have the clear, shining blue of the eyes of a child!” “But when you come to her conduct, what are you to say? Why. you know she is a most outrageous and audacious and abominable flirt!" Queen Tita condescends to smile a little. “She is a mischievous monkey," she admits. “But it’s only her fun.” “Her fun? A nice kind of fun! I call her simply a White Pestilence.” “It’a all very well for you to make a joke of it; but if you would only think, of those two grown-up boys, and the kind of example that is set before them——” “I dare say the boys will be able to look out for themselves.” “If they take after their father they will.” “Como, now. about Peggy. You know ■he has a way of expecting a good deal of attention.” “Yes; and men are never willing to pay her all the attention she wants! Oh, no, they are quite reluctant—you especially! Well, never mind. I'll take Peggy. I dare say we shall get on excellently by ourselves. But reinember, Peggy is to be mine, and mine alone. Of connse she will share my cabin at night, but I mean in the day time as well —when we are walking along the bank. Peggy is to be with me; and if we go for a drive anywhere, she and I are to sit together. And won’t you men be wild!" “And won’t you women be dull! But I don’t know yet that I can allow a ]>erson of that kind to come with us. Look at the wayjdie goes on at cards.” “It’s onFgjier fun." “Why. everything is only her fun! Is, ■he to be allowed to do whatever she pleases, so long as it amuses her? Besides, there are other considerations. She's a Yank.” “She’s a dear!” Obviously it was of no use to argue further with a woman who would make such irrelevant answers; for the sake of peace and quietness it was better to say “Very well;” and so it came about that it was resolved to ask Miss Peggy Rosslyn to accompany us when we should lie ready to steal away from the busy haunts of men and begin our exploration of the devious waterways in the west so England. Atid now we had to lay all our plans, before our young friend, in the hope of enticing her to go with us. It was speedily found that very little enticement was necessary. When her hostess described to her our preconcerted and sudden withdrawal from the road and turmoil and heated-rooms, of London; the assembling of the small party of friends on board the mysterious barge, as yet unconstructed and unnamed, that was to bear us away toward far western regions,; our stealthy gliding through the silent land, in the pleasant May-time of the year; the over-changing panorama of hill and wood and daisied meadow slowly going fay; our morning walks along the banks; our moonlighted evenings on deck, with perhaps a little music, of plantation birth; or, later still, a game of cards in the lamp-lighted saloon—when all those things and many more have been put before her, the question comes: “Now, Peggy, what do you say? Will you go with us?"' “Will 1?" says Peggy. “Won’t I?” And then she seems to think this answer too abrupt; and she goes round the table and kisses that small mite of a woman. “You are just too good to me,” she ■ays; and then she returns to her place. "You will bring your banjo, Miss Peggy?” says one of us. "Oh, no! A guitar sounds all right. But a banjo would be out of keeping ” “Oh, we can't get on without ’Kitty Wells’ and ’Carry Mo Back to Old Virginity.’ ” “There is a much more important thing,” interposes Mrs. Threepenny-bit; and she eyes the young lady with severe and significant scrutiny. “We shall want a fourth for our party; and he may—l say he may—be a man; and even possibly a, young man. Now. Peggy. I want to know* it you are going to behave your■eifr . ... ’ • Miss Peggy turns to the third member of thia trio, with appealing and innocent and injured eyes. “Now, is that fair? Is that kind? Do I ever misbehave?” “Never—l will swear it! But I see yon know where to 'come in, yon poor dear, when they say things about yon. S You know where sympathy and couaola- | tion are always wafting for you.” The first difficulty we encountered was to find a suitable name far the noble

craft that was to carry us away into those sylvau solitudes. A hundred names were examined and rejected; and we were growing desperate when Miss Peggy Rosslyn, happening to come in one evening, settled the matter in a moment. “If that is all the trouble,” said she, “why not call it the ’Nameless Barge?* ” The "Nameless Barge” was the very thing we wanted -mysterious, ghost-like, and entirely in .keeping with our secret ami silent gliding along those solitary highways; and the “Nameless Barge” we forthwith declared it ehonM Im*. Now, when wc set about the planning and construction of the nondescript floating thing' that was to, be serviceable on iMjth canals and rivers, we were greatly indebted for advice and assistance to a young friend of ours. His name was Jack Duncombe; he was the son of a wealthy Manchester merchant, who had sent the lad to Harrow and Cambridge; t hereof he young man came to London to study for the Lar, took rooms in the Temple, eat his dinners, and eventually got called. He was an exceedingly clever and handy fellow, ami of the most indefatigable good nature; and when he heard of this project of ours, he quite naturally assumed that it was his business to procure for us the very vessel we wanted. This he did, after a good deal of trouble, and it was agreed and undertakeu that the "Nameless Barke,” painted a simple white, with no touch of color or gilding at all. should be ready and waiting for us at Kingston-on-Thames, on May 1, with such, stores on board as wc might choose to send down beforehand. Then says the mistress of this household : "Mr. Duncombe lias been so awfully kind and obliging over this affair that we are almost bound to ask him to go with us. if he can.”, "You know the certain result. Peggy will make a hash of him within the first dozen hours.” "Oh. no. no; this time she has promised to behave; and indeed I don’t think she ever means very serious mischief.” Areordingly. we asked the budding dramatist to accompany us, and nothing loath was be: for he had always plenty of time on his hands and ideas in his head, that wanted an abundance of leisure for the pro]M*r working of them out. And then wo told him about Peggy Rbsslyn going with us. “I've heard a great deal alsait that young lady,” said he. “It’s odd I’ve never met h<T at your house.” “She s|»ent all last winter in Paris,” Mrs. Threepenny-bit explains. "And since she has come to England she has been mostly at Bournemouth, where she has some friends."

"And is she really the adorable angel you all make her but?’’ he asks, with a Certain air of indifference, not to say of incredulity. * “She is a very good girl, and a very nice girl," says Queen Tita, quietly: for she doesn't like any of her young lady friends to be sjmken of in a free-and-easy fashion, especially by young men.” Indeed, the next time Jack Duncombe called to see us she took occasion to drop a little hint on the subject—in the gentlest possible way. of course. He came in radiant. He had been down to Kingston. The "Nameless Barge" was nearing completion. He was himself astonished at tl>e amount of accommodation on board, seeing that she had to be constructed so as. to enter canal locks and pass under bridges: nay. he was confident of her sea-going qualities, too, when we should have to face the wide waters of the Severn channel. According to him, the project no longer looked merely hopeful; its success was assured. Our wanderings were to be purely pastoral and peaceful; the Thames, the Severn, the Kennet, the’Avon, were to reveal to us their most secret haunts. He promised us-that on some still evening—some warm and golden evening—perhaps dying slowly into dusk, and then reawakening into the splendor and magfr of a moonlight night—we should find ourselves moored by a meadow-side, in the dim solitudes of the Forest of Arden. CHAPTER 11. “There's my dear! There’s my pretty one!” cries Queen Titania, as we drive up to Waterloo Station; forthwith one catches sight of a tall young lady, brighteyed and smiling, coming qnickly toward the cab: the next instant the two friends are together on the platform, kissing each other in the wasteful and foolish fashion peculiar to women. “No, Peggy.” says Queen Tita, gravely; “you needn't look round. He isn’t here.” “Oh.", says Peggy, with reproachful eyes, “as if I wanted anybody but you.” Our start, after all, was rather a haphazard affair, because some of our arrangements had broken down at the last moment. For one thing, the factotum of a steward provided by Jack Duncombe proved to be much too astute a person for simply folk like us. Doubtless he knew a great deal more about the Thames apd about house-boats than we did; but when it came to innumerable conditions and half-hinted stipulations, we had to point out to him. gently but firmly, that we did not nt all look upon his going with us in the light of an obligation. And then says Mrs. Threepenny-bit: “Where do we ever get courtesy and kindness and good-will except in the West Highlands? If I were you I would send right away for Murdoch.” “A Highland steward on the Thames'” ■ “At all events he will be good-natured, and obliging and pleasant mannered.” It was there and then resolved to send for Murdoch’ Mart An of Tobertnory, in the island of Mull, who came- -sadly-lfo-. wildered by the site and roar of London;' ami was at once sent on to Kingston. Thither also Jack Duncombe had gone down; for there was some little trouble abont getting a man and hone to tow us up to Oxford—where more permanent, arrangements were to be made. Thus it was that we three aet forth by ourselves. As the train slowed into Kingston Station we perceived a young gentleman eag-

low, of pole complexion, with good features, intelligent gray eyes, chestnutbrown hair, and a small brown mustache. He wore a blue jacket, white ducks, and yachting shoes. “Peggy,” said the elder of the two women, as they stepped out and on to the platform, “let me introduce to yot/ Mr. Duncombe —Miss Roeslyn.” The quick look of surprise that appeared on the young man’s face! Had our familiar speaking about Peggy deceived him? Perhaps lie was not prepared to find this American young lady so distinguished looking, and so calm and selfpossessed, to say nothing of tty* observant, direct glance of her clear, shining eyes. Miss Peggy bowed complacently and not unkindly; and* the young man, recovering a little from bis embarrassment. turned to his hostess and explained that he had a youth below and a barrow for the transference of our luggage, and that he had left Murdoch in charge of the boat. Then these two, the luggage having been carried down, walked on ahead, leaving Miss Peggy to follow with the only companion left her. “Well?” one says to her, by way of encouragement and inquiry. She does not care to look up in answer; you would think she was quite interested in the dusty road before her. “Miss Peggy, are you going to let him alone?” Again the plaintive, injured look. "I didn’t think you were going to accuse me of such things, even in. fun. You are always kind to me—and —and defending me against everybody. Besides, didn't I tell you you would see for yourself, all the day long, how well I behave T “But you mustn't behave too well, Miss Peggy; that would never do; we might begin to think you had some definite kind of a character about you. Don’t you know what made that small woman there determined to inveigle you into going with us? It was because you had no angles of character at ail; because you were nothing but simply nice.” "Did she say I was nice?” she inquires, with a touch of shyness. "She did.” “And did you agree with her?” asks this bold hussy- showing what her shyness is worth. "I? Oh, well that's asking questions, and too soon. You know what the man said who went off in a balloon by himself: he said: ’This is very nice, I hope!’ We’ll see. Miss Peggy. We’ll have a little scrutiny of your eoiftuct before saying anything definite. We’ll give you a written warranty afterward!” Here we are down at the river; and there is the long white things—an elongated Noah's ark—a whitewashed gondola it seems —that is to be our home for many a day. And here is Murdoch come ashore—a sailor-like, sunburned young fellow, who has made himself smart in his steward suit and peaked cap; he is very bashful before the young lady stranger; he waits to be spoken, to by Queen Tita, who is an old friend and seafaring comrade of his. "Well, Murdoch.” says she, “and what do you think of the boat, now you have seen her?” Murdoch glances toward the "Nameless Barge” with evident disfavor; but he is" too courteous to say anything too disparaging. . "I thought, mem, it was to be a yat,” he says, still regarding that king white eel of a thing. “A yacht? Oh, no. We couldn't take a yacht away inland. Why,” she pays, with a smile, looking at him, "I believe you are quite disappointed.” "Oh. no, mem. May be it is a good boat for the purpose—may be it uz. But I wonlfl not like her for us to be going round Ru Hupish in that.” “Murdoch, this is Miss Rosslyn; she is au American young lady, who W’ants to see all about England, you know; and you’ll have to do everything to make her comfortable while she is on board.” “Oh, yes, mem; but I wish the young leddy was going with on a yat, mem,” says Murdoch, rather pathetically; it is clear that he regards our present expedition as a sad falling off from others he has known in former days. Queen Tita looks at him and laughs a little. “I do really believe. Murdoch, you are sorry you came south!” “Ob, no. mem; indeed not that, mem," says this bashful-eyed young fellow. “I am sure I do not care what kind Of a boat it uz, if you will ask me to go, mem; and it's ferry g’ad lamto be going with you, mem, whateffer the kind of boat.”

(To be continued.!