Jasper County Democrat, Volume 5, Number 25, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 September 1902 — Loves of JacK and Jill [ARTICLE]

Loves of JacK and Jill

HT'S sush a drefful pity.” said little Babs, “for Auntie Jill to be sowwy and cwy!” “Well, she needn’t cry unless she likes,” observed Rex, who understood things, being 9. Auntie Jill, who heard them from the dark corner behind the curtain, stole away to her bedroom, because she hadn't half done her crying. Then the plot began. “Girls and ladles,” protested Babs, “have to cwy sometimes ’cause they do. If daddy doesn’t cut off my hair and make me gwow up a man I shall cwy when I’m a lady.” “It Isn’t any good," objected wise Rex. "When I’m a man I shall be a hunter, and kill Indians and lions, and ■han’t cry for anything.” Babs shook her golden head. “I should cwy if they hurted you, Wex. Wouldn't you cwy if a big Hon catched me and eated me all up?" « Rex put one arm protectlngly round her, because 9 Is old and big, you see. “No. Babsy. I should kill the Hon; that would be ever so much better. Let’s

play tlbby-cat’s a Hon, and shoot him with the popgun, shall we?” But tlbbycat bolted to the apple tree; and the rocking horse was broken, and Rex had spoilt the doll, playing headsman to her "Lady Jane Grey.” “I wis’ Auntie Jill would come downstairs an' play suflink,” sighed Babs. “I’d rather Uncle Jack take us fishing, or play ball,” said Rex. “Are you aure mamma said he wouldn’t ever oome here again?” “Certain sure,” assented Babs; “an' he wasn’t our Uncle Jack, never any more, mamma said—trufly, Wex.” “He never was our uncle, really,” explained the future hunter, "only going to be. But lie was real nice, and I don’t see what Auntie Jill wanted to go and change him for. It’s just like ■women and girls!” “I’se sure Auntie Jill wouldn’t be naughty, ever,” said loyal Babs, indignantly. “Then what Is she crying for?” “I specks ’cause Uncle Jack — “You said he wasn’t uncle any more, Babs.”

“Well, ’cause Uncle-that-used-to-be Jack——” “That Isn’t right, either, Babs. He’s Fack-that-used-to-be-Uncle.” “You’se wewwy unkind, Wex,” poutId his G-year sister. “Don’t be a goose,” replied Rex, loftily. “Well, I’se sure Uncle Jack has been naughty, ’cause mammy looked drefful Angwy, when she telled me about him. An’ Auntie Jill is cwylng ’cause—’cause he cwles when you’se naughty, and has to be shut In ze cupboard.” “You’re a horrid little kid, Babs,” ■aid Rex, wrathfully marching away. “No. I’se not. Don’t go away, Wex, pease, don’t. I’se—Use so welly rateable.” And kind-hearted little Babs threw herself along the rug and sobbed. “I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” said Rex, after he had soothed her with two kisses, a marble, a "conqueror” and half an apple stolen out of the dining room. “We'll go and tell Uncle Jack that auntie’s crying awful, and he’d better come and say he's sorry—else no one won’t love him ever any more.”

"Ob. Wex,” cried Babs, rapturously, “wouldn’t It be beau’ful! An’ I would wear my new bat, if you could get it down from ze cupboard, so I would be nice and ’apecable. Use sure mummy wouldn’t mind if we were going to fesh Uncle Jack.” So Bex tiptoed on a chair for the hat, and primed the popgun as a protection against lions and robbers, and they went round by the ■weetstuff shop, because they generally went that way with Uncle Jack, and • heavy new jienny was burdening Rex’s pocket. Besides, everyone knows that brandy-balls are excellent nourishment for travelers If they get lost In the woods. And If they eat them before they get lost, they make sure of them, and don’t “sticky" their pockets. Thanks to such prudential measures, the young explorers reached the plank across the ditch in good spirits, and were as happy as bold travelers should always be. The plank was not a long one, but the water was so near Bex’s feet when they dangled, and it was such a good opportunity to shoot fish if they should appear, that It took a good while to cross over. Then they had to go the long way round the lane, because the field was full of cows; and, as Babs •aid, "Cows are drefful sings, 'cause ■ey might be bulls.’.’ So the autumn afternoon was turning to evening when they reached the fish pond where Uncle Jack ought to be. But no Jolly uncle appeared -perhaps his mamfba had put him in the cupboard because he was so naughty and made Auntie Jill cry. Box and Bnbs began to feel cold and tired. “1 wls'-I wls’ we had a lot of tea,” lamented Babs. “Perhaps we shall come to a ramp," said Bex, consolingly. “Travelers always do. Then they will give us some buffalo cooked In a pot on three sticks over the fire, and tell us where Uncle Jack Is." So they trudged on cheerfully a little further. But it got so dusk and the cows looked so large and wild in the fading light that they might almost be real buffaloes, which are very different from play ones, as everybody knows. Babs’ shoes stuck in ths mud and couldn’t be found, and Rex fell In souii stinging nettles, and they both got scratched scrambling through a badge. 80 poor little Golden Hair sat

down on a bank and cried, and Rex stroked her head, and would have cried too if crying hadn’t been out of the question for a big boy, who was nearly a man, dada said. Just then Farmer Burton came along with his dog Rover. He found them some apples out of his pocket, and listened attentively while they explained matters. Of course, he ought to take them straight home, but —a wicked emile crossed the old man’s lips—they had come out to find Uncle Jack, and perhaps It would be a good thing If they found him. He had seen him walking distractedly about tn Sleepy Hollow a few minutes ago, and he knew something about lovers’ quarrels. Why, when he was courtlug Dame Margery forty years ago they parted forever once a month! But be didn’t tell the youngsters anything about ihls, only took up Babs on his broad shoulders and walked along so fast that Rex had to trot to keep up with him. “Why does you laugh, Mlsser Burton?” Inquired Babs. "Oh, because you're such a funny little girl to go hunting buffaloes.” “But it was Wex zat was goln’ to shoot zem," apologized she. "Oh, I beg bls pardon,” said the jovial old farmer. “Perhaps he would like to stop behind and shoot them now?" But Rex thought they had better be getting home, as It was so late. Buffaloes, he admitted, In his private mind, were not so nice to hunt In the dark. As they were crossing the hollow a big gentleman came striding along. "Here’s Uncle Jack!” they both exclaimed at once.

“Why, Babs-Rex!” cried he, In amazement. "Whatever ” "Oh, they’ve come to look after you, Mr. Jack." said old Burton, solemnly. “They’ll tell you all about It. Perhaps you'll see ’em home as it is gettlug late.” So saying, he disappeared over a stile with remarkable agility for bls years and size. All the way home he laughed, until Rover thought that he must be going mad, like some 111-balanced dogs in the hot weather. All that evening he chuckled to himself, until his dame confided to the hired man that the master had something on his mind for certain, and the hired man thought that “mebbe he'd had an offer for the heifer." But not for many a long day did he tell the story of the hunters. "Well, you young pickles!” said Jack, who used to be uncle, "what the dickens are you doing here? What the deuce am I to do with you?” he added, under his breath, as he shouldered the girlie. Babs looked at Rex, and Rex looked at Babs.

“We were looking for you,” said the hunter at length. “ ’Cause she cwles when Wex is naughty, an’ mamma puts hlin " “Don’t be such a donkey, Babs," interrupted Rex, indignantly. “Well,” said Jack, “I suppose 1 must take you young rascals home, anyhow." “An’ say you’s sowwy,” pleaded Golden Hair. “I should, if I were you,” counseled Rex, putting his hand in that of uncle-wtm-used-to-be, because he was a very nice uncle, and 9 isn’t so old in the dark. “Men must put up with something from girls and ladles, and be kind to them,” he preached, solemnly. “That’s real true. My dada says so.”. Jack didn't say much, but he held them very tight, and carried Bex as well as Babs in the gloomiest part of the lane, where no one could see. So it wasn’t long before they came to tlio house, where everyone seemed in trouble, except tlbby-cat, who was dozing unconcernedly in front of th? fire Dada, who had Just come home, was starting out to look for them; Sarah, the nurse, and Jane, the housemaid, having Just returned from a vain search. Cook was blinking over the kitchen fire about “them children" till she let things burn, and mamma was sobbing on the sofa in the drawing room, because she was not well enough to get up. Poor Auntie Jill was most wretched of all, because she had cried all her tears away In the afternoon and had none left for the babies.

What a shout of delight went up ns they came in through the open doorl Dada snatched up his boy, and mamma called eagerly for them from the drawing room, so Jack followed In xvith Babs half asleep tn bls arms. Dada and mamma looked nowhere but at the children, while Jack and Jill looked everywhere but at each other. Then Rex and Babs lapghed and chattered, and began to explain matters. "We’we fetched Uncle Jack," said Rex, In a matter-of-fact tone, “to see Auntie Jill. And he's going to take us fishing tomorrow afternoon, if you’ll let him.” “An’ he’s goln’ to be so welly, welly good," asserted Babs, emphatically, "sat Auntie Jill won't be sowwy and cwy, not ever any more.” Mamma looked astounded, and Auntie Jill fqpnd Just one tear to come half out of each eye—for it hadn't been all Jack's fault, really you know. Jack stepped a little nearer to her, and half held out one hand and half didn't. “Don’t be silly, children; you do not understand," said mamma, reprovingly. But dada smiled one of his quiet smiles, as taking one little one upon each knee he sat down on the sofa beside mamma. “I think they do," said he. Then Jack got very near Jill, and took hold of both her hands. “My dear little Jill," said be, rather brokenly.

And she put her head on his shoulder and cried, and said—but really it Isn’t fair to tell what she said. Anyhow, it must have been satisfactory to Rex and Babs, for those young; scamps laughed with glee at the prospect of unlimited fishing, and ball, and swings, and pennies, now that Jack-that-used-to-be-Uncle-that-was-to-be was reinstated.— Chicago Times-Herald.