you to your senses! Besides, you were in too delicate
a state of health to bear the truth!" This with decided relish.

"Bring me to my senses!" echoed the other. "You have about run me crazy!
Here I've gone and married my wife's brother to his sister, and the
fathers and mothers are all fathers-in-law and mothers-in-law. But, my
dear mamma," he added, with an 'Et-tu-Brute' look at the amused lady,
"I did not think you would play me false!"

"The temptation was too great," she confessed, "after I saw your name on
the tell-tale suit case; own the truth now, that as Mrs. Dana, you would
never have fallen in love with me!"

"Ah, well," he gave in, "let's kiss and make friends. As for you, young
lady," he exclaimed with mock fierceness, "I shall exact the most
implicit obedience. I must get even somehow."

"No--no--I did not promise to obey--brides never do nowadays," and the
little gloved hand went up to his lips in protest.

Catching it fast, he threatened to proclaim the first time her hand had
ever touched his lips, all unconscious though she was, and amid blushes
and happiness all around, they arrived at the house, where the whole
story had to be rehearsed to delighted friends, beginning with midnight
vision in a Pullman car.

In Old Kentucky

A PRIZE STORY

Everybody was at Crab Orchard springs, that favorite resort in the
ante-bellum days. What though the main rooms were cramped and stuffy, or
that the straggling cottages across the grassy lawn were mere shells.
It was a place thoroughly rural, thoroughly enjoyable. Merely to ramble
along the winding saw-dust walks to the deep embowered springs, was a
sufficient augury of improved health. It was the one daily excitement to
crowd up to the long platform and see the stage come in, bringing high
and low, the rich and moderate liver. The luggage was light, Saratoga
trunks being unknown quantities, and no gowns were brought except those
of the crushable kind that did duty at ten-pins, fishing, walking,
dancing, and not least, driving, for the gravel turnpikes were fine.

Across the wide street was Bachelors' Row, where were installed hunters
and hounds from the Southland, rich cotton and sugar planters, sporting
men and their sable attendants. Here the candles burned all night, and
there were loud whispers of games in vogue not as innocent as those
listed on the tempting advertising circulars of the Springs. This sunny,
summer life was of the _dolce far