People's Pilot, Volume 4, Number 34, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 February 1895 — MY TRAVELING COMPANION. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

MY TRAVELING COMPANION.

NCE I was compelled to make the trip to Turin by the way of s Corsica. So I took the steamer at Nice for Bastia. As. soon as we were under way X■' 1 began to look around and ■ ob\y J serve my fellowpassengers I noticed a inodestlookmg woman sitting on deck alone and

apparently a stringer. .1 immediately said to myself, -There is my traveling companion.’ - so I placed myself where I could watch th ■ graceful contour of her 1: ad an.l sli >u d -rs. the exquisite coloring of her richly tinted cheeks, and t!ie dr -mny look of her dark eyes pazing fat; out to sea. 1 noted the fine lines of her hands, a little too large and strong, but white and beautiliilly shaped, the delicate shell like ears which always indicate go’Od blco 1 belt,er than a certificate of b.rth. sometimes cptit tstible. Without seeming to notice niy scrutiny she settled herself comfortably in her chair, opened her satchel and took out a newspaper. I rubbed my hands exaltingly and said: “Now, let me see what --he reads and I will tell yon her charict r and thoughts.” I gave the p iper a quick glance and to niy surprise stw it was a Parisian journal. She becan at the first page with a dainty, satisfied manner; read on and o:i. sometimes a smile on her lips, but always a look of interested attention.

I drew my scat nearer to her, took out n volume of poems 1 had bought just, before, starting, and pretended to be equally interested. A good many passengers walked up and down, but sho appeared to think of nothing but her paper. Finally she seemed to have finished and laid it down on a seat between us. I immediately bowed an 1 said: “Will madame permit me to glance over her paper?” “Certainly, monsieur, with the greatest pleasure.” “In the meantime allow me to offer this volume of poetry; it may interest you.” “Thank you; is it amusing?” This rather disconcerted me, when one offers a volume of love songs to a woman he does not expect to be asked, “Is it amusing;” nevertheless, I answered, “It is more than amusing —it is charming—delicious.” •She opened the book and began to run through it, with a little bewildered air,as if she. was not in the habit of reading poetry. Suddenly I asked: “Don’t you like it?” “Yes, but I am not at all sentimental. I like something gav—very gay.” With that she closed the book and we began to talk. 1 learned she was the wife of an officer at Ajaccio. She was going to rejoin her husband. She added she hail been dragged from one little town to another, an I now she was going to be buried in that lugubrious isle of Corsica. In some way I fancied she did not love her husband—loved him, perhaps

with that cool reserve a woman gives to a man wht> is not congenial to her. She said she preferred living in Lyons. She knew everyone in Lyons—it was her native place. As we spoke of residences and places she preferred, I asked: “How do you like Paris?’’ “Oh, monsieur; do I like’Paris? Is it possible for anyone to ask such a question?”. And she began to talk of Paris with such ardo'r—such enthusiasm—l said to myself: “This is the string to pull.’’ Then sh’e began to question me with almost breathless eagerness; she wanted to know everything at once. She ran on for about an hour, then her questions began to be exhausted and it was my time to tajk. I related all the stories of the fashionable world I could think of. I gave her a beautiful idea of the grand dames of Paris, salisde I her curiosity in the most fantastic manner, told wonderful adventures of the gay city. She listened with all her ears an I all her heart Then I mocked with cruel irony all those poor women who were bound to husbands who did not appreciate them, and could not understand their delicacy of sentim nt The night had come— soft and warm—the great steamer, throbbing from her machinery, glided over the sea—beneath an immense canopy of riolet sky, starred with dropi of fire. Suddenly my neighbor was up and saying: “It is late. I must retire. Bon foir, monsieur.” I answered: “Bon soir, madame," end she whs gone. 1 kacw she must take the night dll- -

irence from Baslia to Ajaccio— th are was no other way to cross the mountains—so I laid my plans to meet my fair companion again. Next morning as soon as we landed in Baslia I hired the entire diligence for myself, engaged every seat The shades of night were falling when I entered the old vehicle for Ajaccio. The criver came to me and humbly asked: “Would I yield any of the scats to a lady?” “What lady? - ’! brusquely demanded. “The wife of an oftic-r going to Ajaccio to join her husband.” “Certainly. Tell the lady 1 gladly offer her a seat” iviy traveling companion soon appeared, laughingly said she had been asleep all the afternoon preparing for her night trip across the mountains, thanked me for my kindness, and entered the carriage. This old vehicle was like a hermetically closed box—no openings, except a door on each -sid", with little glass windows above. We were sitting.f.icc to face, opposite each other, and away we started’, the hors-; going On a quick trot until we reached the mountains. Again I began to talk of Paris—bright, beautiful, bewildering Paris. She listened with keen attention. , By now , the night hud grown so dark I could scarcely distinguish the face of my companion. It appeared like a Whitish spot ■in the surrounding gloom. The horses were slowly walking up th * steep ascent —the carriage lanterns the only light to show the road. My companion had been very quiet for some time, breathing softly, with now and then a gentle sigh. The •darkness an 1 silence emboldened me. I cautiously advanced my feet and touched heys. She did not move or change her position. Then me talk became -rorc insinuating—veiled words wit* hidden meaning. She was still silent. Then I softly laid my on hers. It was not withdrawn. Growing still bolder I went on whispering a lot of sentimental rubbish; talked of “love at first sight,”. “Kindrad spirits,”. etc., with my lips very near her ear—in truth dangerously near her mouth. She Was still silent. I fancied I could hear the beatings of her heart, mingled with her gentle sighs. At last I softly placed my lips upon her cheeks. She started as if just aroused from sleep—but such a start! It hurled me to the far side of the carriage. Then, before I had time to comprehend, consider or even think, I received five or six frightful slaps full in the face, then a perfect hail of fisticuffs, hard and sharp, falling everywhere on my head, my face, my neck, quick and fast as summer rain. In the thick darkness that surrounded us I vainly tried to parry the blows, to seize her hands—impossible; so I turned around and presented my back to her furious attacks and hid my head in the corner of the vehicle. Lihe seemed to comprehend, by the sound of the blows, no doubt, this movement of despair, an I suddenly ceased to beat me, and throwing herself back in the corner of the carriage, she burst into a wild paroxysm of sobs and tears, which continued for an hour or so, I shrinking back in my corner distressed and very much ashamed. I wanted to Speak, but what cohid I say?—“Excuse me?” that would have been tarn: and absurd. What would you have said? Nothing—just as I did. Finally she grew calm. We both remained in our separate corners, mute and motionless, ths diligence moving steadily on, onlv stopping now and then for a relay of horses.

The day begins to break; as the first pale rays of dawn begin to glide into th' carriage I look at my neighbor. She seems fast asleep. The sun coming up from behind the mountains discloses an immense blue gulf, streaked with gold, and surrounded by enormous peaks of granite. On the far side of this gulf a white city, steeped in the shading light of the early morning, appears. My neighbor starts up as if just groused from sleep, and opens her eyes. They are very red. She yawns as if she had slept a long time, blushes, hesitates a moment, then stammers: “Will we be there soon?” “Yes, madam, in less than an hour.” “Oh, I wish we were there.” I could well understand that wish. Her voice was a little tremulous, her manner a little confused; otherwise she seemed to have forgotten everything. In about an hour we arrived’ at Ajaccio. A great dragoon—a kind of Hercules —was standing at the office door, waving his handkerchief as the diligence appeared. Th- driver had scarcely brought his horr-stoa standstill before my neighbor leaped into his arms with a bound, embracing him again and agaiti: “Oh, I am so glad to see you. How I longed to be with you again.” My trunk had been taken down from the imperial. -I was about to retire discreetly when she called out: “Oh, monsieur,you are not going without bidding me adieu.” I stammered: “I leave you to your happiness, madame.” Then she turned to her husband, saving: “My dear, you must thank monsieur for his kindness to me. He has been charming, even offering me a seat in the diligence, which he engaged entirely for himself. It is delightful to meet with such an agreeable traveling companion.” The husban I warmly clasped my hand, and thanked me with the greatest effusion. His wife standing by regarded us with a malicious, mocking smile, while I felt and looked very foolish, I assure you. Old Lady—Would John be a good catch for Mary? Old Man—Splend idl lie’s in the foot ball business and his life is insured for *IO.OOO.

I SOFTLY LAID MY HAND ON HERS.