Jasper County Democrat, Volume 14, Number 49, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 September 1911 — She Loved Her Native City [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

She Loved Her Native City

How a Boston Giri Behaved In England

By HELEN L WOODRUFF

Miss Gwendolin Robbins of Boston possessed all the various traits usually attributed to the girls of that city. She was intellectual, well read and independent. Miss Robbins being in* London with some friends endeavored to make up a party to visit the castle of Lord Tidminster at Abercrombie, some twenty miles from the city, but since every one of her fellow tourists was bent on occupation for the day in another direction Miss Robbins determined to shake the visit alone. So she boarded a train from Paddington station and on reaching Abercrombie took a cab for the castle. AbercromßTe. though a thriving town today, was in medieval times but a cluster of houses surrounding the castle and a big church as well, occupied by the tenantry of the earl. It is not therefore to be expected that the streets would be very straight or very broad. The cabman was lumbering along at a snail’s pace when round a sharp curve came an automobile driven by a young man in a white flannel suit and a straw hat. The cabman lost his head and. instead of going to the right, jerked his horse to the left. Then, seeing his mistake, he gave another jerk to the right. ■ The young man in the auto endeavored to follow the reverse of these variations, but, not knowing which side the cabman would eventually decide upon, did not succeed. The result was a crash. The cabman went up in the air. The cab broke into many pieces, from which Miss Robbins stepped forth as imperturbably as if she had thrown off a wrap. The young man sprang from his automobile and with a wild look.in his eye asked her if she was sure no bones were broken. She coolly turned to the cabman, who was lying on the stones insensible, and began to direct the matter of taking care of him. 4 “An ambulance call!” she said to those who were gathering about. Since no one knew what she meant no ambulance was called. Then, see-

ing a chemist’s shop, as they call a drug store in England, near by, she directed several men to carry cabby there. The automobilist, who was watching this self possessed young woman, at this picked up the fallen man and carried him to the shop. Before reaching It cabby recovered his senses and began to howl. It was found that he had got off with a broken arm and rib and a severe contusion of the head. By this time the automobilist, having recovered his equanimity, issued orders for the man’s care and gave him an address where he might call and receive pay for his cab. Then, turning to Miss Robbins, he said: “Kindly inform me where you were going when I met you and I will take you there in my auto. I don’t think it is injured.” “I came here,” said the lady, “to visit the castle. Can’t I walk there from here?” “Not on any account. One moment,” and, returning to his car, he made a brief examination, then, opening the door of a rear seat, held it waiting for her to approach. She got in with “Thanks, very much.” “Is the castle open to visitors today?” she asked as they sped along. “No, but I can gain you admittance.” “In. that case your misfortune is my gain. I have come out from London to see it.” “Beg pardon, but I should bd pleased to know where you are from.” “Why does that Interest you?” “Because I’m quite sure you must hall from a place where young ladies are brought up to be very self reliant L was amazed to see you take charge of this affair, which was my part.” "I am from JJoston.” “Oh, yes, Boston! That's in America, isn’t it?” “New England.” “New England? Now I remember.

The New Englanders are much like ue old Englanders, aren’t they?” “Very. You hate Oxford and Cambridge? We have Cambridge.” “I see. And why, may I ask, do you wish to see this old pile of stones ?’ “Because of the historic interest attached to it” v “Historic interest? How’s that?” “Why. don’t you know? It was besieged during the Wars of the Roses and taken by the parliamentary forces in Cromwell’s time.” “Oh. was it?”' . *“lf you live about here I should think you would have heard of that.” “But I'm not that kind of a fellow, you* know. I run to horses and dogs and cricket and all that.” They were climbing an eminence on which the castle stood. Miss Robbins asked if he was sure he could gain admittance for her, and he replied that he would show her over It himself. “Are you a—a friend of the earl?” she asked. “I know him well enough.” “What kind of a man is he?” “Oh. he’s a good sort; not much brains. He and I were at Oxford together. We went there for the student life.” “I thought you said you were not fond of study.” “I’m not. What I meant by the student life is the boating and the games—in short, the college life barring the lectures. I pulled one year against Cambridge.” They reached the castle, chug-chugged over the drawbridge, under the portcullis and drew up in the court A lackey came running up to them. The young man said something to him in an undertone, then asked Miss Robbins to follow him. One of the first interesting points they reached was a portion of the wall built of different stone from the rest. “This part was knocked down,” said the volunteer guide, “by an attack made some time or other, by whom 1 don’t exactly remember. I must ask Bob about it.” “Who is Bob, may I ask?” “Oh, Bob’s the fellow that owns the place.” “Is he at home today?” “I believe he is. He was to have gone to the city, but I think something turned up to change his plan.” “You say he is not Intellectual?” “Not a whit more than I.” “I would like to see as. least a portrait of him. Possibly you may be able to show me one?” “A portrait of Bob! Why, he wouldn’t have that mug of his put on canvas at the king’s command!” “He’s not handsome, then?” “I should say not” “Has he a family?” “Mother and sisters.” “What are his sisters like?”

“Oh, they’re good girls, but they’re a different sort from Americans, especially those who come from Boston.” “In what respect?” “Why, if one of them should have a cob splintered around her she’d faint and even if not a bit bent would be in bed after it for a fortnight.” “Indeed!” If there was anything historically interesting about the castle the guide appeared to be unable to bring it out. When he had finished showing the old pile of stones, as he called it, he took Miss Robbins in his auto to the station and before parting with her asked her if he might call upon her in London. She gave him permission and her address. He called the next daj’ and bore an invitation from his friend Bob, as he called him, or, rather, Bob’s mother, to luncheon at the castle. Great were the regrets of the members of Miss Robbins’ party that they had not gone with her to Abercrombie that they might have shared in the invitation. Miss Robbins took a train and was met at the station by Lady Tidminster and one of her daughters. They had a great deal to say about what they considered her remarkable presence of mind upon having a cab knocked from around her, and Lady Gwendolin, who was nearly Miss Robbins’ age, asked: “What did you do without your smelling salts?” After reaching the castle, just before luncheon was served, the young man who had caused the accident and afterward acted as guide bolted into the room and approached the guest, looking very much ashamed of himself. “Beg pardop,” he said, “for going about with you as another fellow, but you see I was so amazed at your action when I ran you down and so ashamed of myself that I didn’t like to admit who I was. Hope you won’t lay it up against me.” “Please forgive me,” pleaded Lady Tidminster. “Bob is a sensitive boy and very retiring.” “Retiring, did you say?” remarked Miss Robbins. “Judging from the rapid way he turns corners in his automobile, I should call him advancing.” The result of this first visit was an invitation to Miss Robbins to spend a fortnight nt the castle and that resulted in a letter from the earl, or Bob, as he called himself, making her a proposition of marriage. It is not usual for an American girl to throw a British title over her shoulder, but Miss Robbins did this very thing. “If I married you,” she wrote him, “my home would be necessarily in Abercrombie. There is no library there and, as I learned when you nearly killed the cabman, not even a town ambulance. It is too late to reform such a place. Boston, on the contrary, is in the ‘foremost files of time’ and rapidly advancing. Perhaps I could learn to love you, but nothing like Boston.”

“THIS POST WAS KNOCKED DOWN.”