Jasper County Democrat, Volume 8, Number 8, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 May 1905 — GOOD LUCK [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

GOOD LUCK

By KATE M. CLEARY

Jimmy popped his head in at th& door. “Say,” be shouted, “Mrs. Brently wants you and papa to go over to Beech wood with her! She’s got the surrey out on the road.” In all the confusion of a newly occupied cottage, Mrs. Barrows, lifting an etching to her husband, who stood halfway up a stepladder, could only shake her head in declination. “Tell her I’m ever so much obliged, Jimmie, but it’s impossible.” “Hold on, Jim!” called his father. I’m not so sure of that, Minna. You’re tired out. Your old nervous headache will come back If you keep on fussing around the house. The rest of these pictures can wait. Or Bert will help me.” He looked Interrogatively at the young man stretched out in a low rattan steamer chair, a magazine In one band and a cigarette in the other. “To be sure I will!” be answered heartily. “Go on, Minna! The drive will do you good.” Little Mrs. Barrows, plump, dimpled and black eyed, held up a positive forefinger. “I don’t go without Henry," she declared. “If any one needs an outing It’s this poor fellow, who Is tied to a stool behind a brass railing six days out of seven.” “Like a 'bird in a gilded cage!’ ” sang Herbert Barrows ga.vly. Minna Barrows looked affectionately at her husband. “Precisely. Come on, Henry! I’ll be ready In a flash If you’ll come too!’’

The stepladder groaned as the big man stepped down. “You’re an awful tyrant, Minna!” He gave her a caressing pat on the shoulder as he passed. “But we will knock off work If you say so.” The two, freshly groomed and crisply clad, looked In on Herbert to say a word of adieu before joining their friend. “Don’t let any one steal you,” advised Henry Barrows. “I won’t,” be laughed back. “Handsome men are scarce." “Conceited monster!” cried his sister-in-law and made a feint of throwing her parasol at him. “You better hurry!" counseled Jimmy, aged six. “Mrs. Brently’s horses ’ll

get tired waiting. Don't bother aboul Uncle Bert. Aunt Vlvia will take care of him.” Herbert Barrows sat suddenly erect. “Vivia!” he repeated. “Are you expecting Vlvia? You did not say anything about It." Husband and wife exchanged a guilty glance. “Well, we knew that you and Vlvia were not the best friends In the world," Mrs. Barrows began falterlngly. "I’ll go up to town on the 8:30 train,” decided Herbert. His clean cut, clean shaved young face looked tremendously determined. He had gone oddly pale under his coppery tan. “She doesn’t get here until T, I suppose?” “She didn’t say what train she’d take down,” answered Henry Barrows, “but you’re an awful Idiot If you let a slip of a girl like Vlvia frighten you away. If I’d been so easily intimidated," glancing fondly at his wife, “I'd never have won this little woman here.”

Herbert sprang up, tall, nervous, athletic, his hands thrust In his pockets. “It’s altogether different. Minna never threw you over. Vlvla has broken off our engagement. It would be embarrassing for her to find me here.” Minna twirled her parasol, a little flicker of amusement coming Into her eyes. . “Don’t you worry about Vlvla," she advised. “I wish she’d worry a bit about me,” remarked Herbert gloomily. “But she won’t. She doesn’t care a snap for me or she’d have given me a chance to explain”— Jimmie gave a summoning howl from the hall. “Say, Mrs. Brently ’ll drive off an’ leave you folks If you don’t get a move on you.” The laggards, with a fusillade of good advice directed toward Herbert, took their hurried departure, but that young gentleman had already pulled a time table from his pocket and war

studying It In much despondency of spirit. A whoop from bis effervescent nephew startled him. “Look, Uncle Bert, what I fonnd!” A battered horseshoe was held triumphantly aloft In a grimy little hand. “That's for good luck every time. Nall It up over the door, will you? Mamina ’ll be awful glad to have It there. She had one nailed up In our house—ln town. Here’s the hammer.”

Herbert Barrows, the friend of children in geheral and of this small nephew In particular, rose obediently. —“Look out for those pictures,” cautioned Jimmy. They were ranged along the wall preparatory to hanging etchings—passe partouts, aquarelles and one long Venetian mirror. “Jimmy,” sighed the uncle of that estimable small boy, “If your advice were only as valuable as it la frequent what an admirable young person you’d be to have for a constant companion I Hello! Great Scott! Look out there!” Too late! Leaning forward from the stepladder to fasten the horseshoe In the direct center of the casing over the door, the flutter of a blue gown on the porch had caught his eye. And as the wearer stepped lightly over the threshold the nervousness engendered by his sudden recognition caused the bit of battered Iron to fly from his fingers. For one horrified Instant he hardly dared look. Then he saw that It had only grazed the arm of the girl entering and, deflecting, had crashed into the Venetian mirror.

“Oh, what bad luck!” she cried, regarding the shattered fragments. “But my horseshoe would have brought good luck, Aunt Vlvla, If he hadn’t let It fall,” protested Jimmy indignantly. “I’m so sorry,” apologized Herbert In a low voice. “I was unpardonably awkward.” The girl, exquisitely attired, young and graceful, glanced from one to the other, then at the broken looking glass. She sank down on a rattan divan and burst Into helpless laughter. “It’s too absurd. The Idea of breaking a mirror with a horseshoe. What a combination of good and bad luck." For the time being she had forgotten the peculiarity of her present relations with the culprit. “It’s all his fault,” sturdily insisted Jimmy, picking up his treasured possession. “My, won’t mamma give it to you, Uncle Bert, when she finds out you’ve broken Miss Sibley’s mirror.” Some of the pink bloom went out of Miss Grant’s face.

“Did Laura Sibley give Minna—give your mother—that, Jimmy?” Her voice sounded so cold Jimmy looked quickly up iu intuitive Interrogation. “Yes—last Christmas. Why, Aunt Vlvia?”. “Oh, nothing!” returned Vlvia Grant. A strange, swift suspicion shot through the mind of Herbert Barrows. He leaned forward eagerly. Thoughts, recollections, were crowding up In bewildering succession. “Vlvia, tell me,” he half pleaded, half commanded, “was It because of my—my attention to Miss Sibley at the commencement dance that yon sent me back my ring? Frank Lennard was away that night, and he feared Laura would feel lonely, so, as we both had belonged to the same fraternity’’— “Frank Lennard!" Vivia exclaimed. “You don't mean to say”— “Why, of course! I suppose you knew they were to be married in October, dearest. What’s that—you’re hurt?*’ A thin red line showed through the pale, transparent stuff of her sleeve. He had pushed the material up In an instant and was binding the slight wound with his handkerchief. “It’s only a scratch, Bert!” She was laughing a trifle hysterically. "We’ve —we’ve both been—at least I’ve been—awfully foolish!” “Jimmy,” said Barrows, “I’ll give you 80 cents If you’ll take that broken glass out and throw It In the ditch.” “Betcher life!” responded Jimmy. He loaded a basket and started off. “To think that a broken mirror should bring”— the girl was saying. “Hello, Jimmy! Back so soon? Here's your half!” Herbert dipped the one hand at liberty Into his pocket. He brought out a dollar. “Say,” he bargained, “I’ll give you all of this if you stay out and watch, sentry fashion—like a soldier, you know—that no one takes that glass out of the ditch!” “Will ir replied Jimmy. “Put It here! I knew my horseshoe would bring me good luck !” The face against Herbert’s shoulder was lifted mischievously. "Is It good luck, Bert?” she questioned quizzically. "The best In the world,” he declared emphatically. He concluded his sentence with a lover’s period. “Gee!” said Jimmy softly, looking back over his shoulder. “Geer’

FOR ONE HORRIFLED INSTANT HE HARDLY DARED LOOK.