THAT VOICE.

Samoa Times and South Sea Gazette, Issue 42, 20 July 1878, Page 4

THAT VOICE.

A day in June. 1903, and one of the loveliest early Summer days the world ever beheld a cloudless sky, golden-bright sunshine, soft fragrant air, joyously sweet songs of birds, faint musical murmurs of brooks and plashings of fountains, delicately green grass, lingering violets and budding roses.

On the lawn in front of the elegant mansion of Leon Fishback, Esq., a party of young people are playing " Follow-follow-follow-me " —a game somewhat resembling (so their mothers and grandmothers tell them) an old game called " Puss in the Corner," played a quarter of a sentory or more ago, only in " Fol-low-follow" the players instead of beckoning to each other, beckon to a group of metallic balls, around which they stand in a circle, and he or she who proves to have most magnetic force the balls follow with a rush, while the remainder of the players rush as wildly intheir efforts tosecure the place left vacant by the flying one.

At this moment the balls arc rolling pell-mell, helter-skelter, knocking against each other with a pleasant ringing sound, after a pretty, fair-hairod maiden, whose little feet, clad in slippers all gleaming with silver and flash in the sunshine Jje_neath as she springs lightly over tho greensward . amid the exquisitely modulated laughter—no one shouts loudly in this refined twentieth century—of her merry companions.

In the back garden, on a green cloverBweet grass-plat, stands a broad, deep basket of newly-washed, snowy white linen, and a hanging-out machine, planted firmly in the middle of tho plat, is industriously raising and lowering its wooden arms, grasping the various pieces in its wonderfully-constructed hands, and banging them upon the stout no-clotbes-pins line, which is slowly revolving around it, and to which they adhere without farther trouble.

In the dairy the rosy-cheeked dairymaid is reading a love poem, while the automatic milker is milking the beautiful white cow that stands just outside the door; in the kitchen cook is indolently rocking to and fro in a low rock-ing-chair, watching the " magic rollingpin " roll out the paste for her pies, ready to stop its pendulum-like movement the moment the crusv is smooth and thin enough; and a small servant-boy, with his hands in his pockets, lounges against tho wall in one corner near a tall stool, whistling softly to himsolf as he waits until the pair of shoes the electric black-ing-brush is polishing thereon attain the proper degree of brillancy and mir-ror-likeness.

This is a prosperous place, this domain of Leon Fishback, Esq., and Leon Fishback himself is a tall, handsome energetic, positive man of one ond thirty—a bachelor, who gives a home to Mb widowed sister and her four half-orphaned children, and in return is taken care of by her, with the assistance from the old housekeeper—to tell the truth, with a great deal of assistance from the old housekeeper—as well as any brother was ever taken care of by any sißter. Still, people, as people will—especially people with grown-up single daughters—wondered that he had never married. It was not for want of opportunity he had not done so—oh, no, indeed!—for a dozen lovely girls, half a dozen more or less charming widows, and several ladies of neither class, had, since his coming into the property of his uncle and godfather. Leon Fishback Sen. (whose ashes in a solid gold casket stood in a sort of shrine, made of a hundred rare woods, in the south drawing room), intimated to him, in every way that tho shrinking sensitiveness of womanhood would allow, their perfect willingness—nay, anxiety—to assume tho role of mistress of the Fishback mansion.

But Leon had walked calmly amonc: them dispensing hospitality, kind words, and gracious smiles with the strictest impartiality,—distinguishing none by the slightest preferenoe, untd a few weeks before this beautiful June day, when In. young guests merrily called, " Follow follow-follow-me." to their highly polished admirers on the closely shaven lawn. school Bearfsley %,• nairic, who had i& a tW distant State, but wjs wjsrn kept up a warm corrosponder.ee ever since they parted at the college door tho day •on which oach was publicly hailen with loud acclamations as Mistress of Arts."

Miss Beardsloy is a lovely woman of eight-and-twonty Summers, locking at least five Summers loss with an exceptionally sweet voice, an exceptionally bright smile, an exceptionally graceful figure and exceptionally winning ways. And to this bo witching woman has Leon Fishback, the hitborto apparently unimpfessibie bachelor, devoted himself since tliu moment ho took her welcome to hu home. And it isbyhersid. be loiters, iintcmiiti-d by the merriment without, in the deep, pleasant vine-enwreathed liny-window of tho library as the fair-haired girl comes flying across tho garden, pursued by the tinkling bails. Laura starts from hor scat with a blush, and, leaning from the window, ontreats, " Coax them away, Bella, dear. They are dun-in;; on the flower-bed." And as tho girl oDodii'ntly turns nnd speeds in tho opposite direction, she draws back her pretty bead, and, looking at her companion says, " How muoh Bella, is like «r sister Teresa - x this is, whrn was only 1(11" " Is she '" oaks Air. Fish buck.

Why, don't you remember V gays the lad v.

•• I do not," replies Mr. Fishback with emphasis. Miss Laura makes two interrogation points of her silken eyebrows, opens her mouth to speak, thinks better of it, closes hcrrodlipstirmlv.and turns to the window | again as the Follow-follow-uie-ers stop playing and gather in a group, with their eyes fixed upon a small aerial car, gayly decorated with flags, v. hkh isgentlyswaying between heaven and earth, as it slowly descends toward the lawn. In a few moments it touches the ground, and a some young fellow hups out, and is greeted with many exclamations of pleasure and surprise. " Your brother Reginald," says Miss Beardslev "So soon returned from London ? he only Btartod a, few days ago."

"Yes; flying ship American Eagle—fastest of the Air Lino. 1 heard of her arrival just after breakfast this morning when it was shouted by the telephone attnostation below."

" Thirty miles away !" "Oh ! that's nothing. We expect to be able to hear news from a hundred miles away before many years are past." " May I not be in the immediate vicinity when that news is shouted;" says tho lady, with uu involuntary movement of her pretty white hands toward her pretty rose-tipped cars, " for I should expect to be deaf for evermore."

" Never fear, my dear; I mean Miss Beardsley. Such a mis fortune as that shall never occur, oven though you should chance to be at the very side of the shouter. Edison is at this moment perfecting an instrument that begins to deliver its messages in a moderately loud voice, which increases in volume as it is carried forward, until it reaches the most distant point it is intended to reach, thus maintaining an even tone all along the route. How glorious all these Edsonian inventions are !" he continues, with a glow of enthusiasm, " and what humdrum times our ancestors must have had without them ' Why, they are the very life of the age. There's the phonograph, for instance—but I beg pardon, you are looking bored. I cannot expect you to take as much interest in these scientific subjects as 1 do. Is not Reginald coming this way ?"

" He i 3 not," answers Miss Laura, demurely ; he is still holding Bella's band, and totally ignoring all the other welcoming hands extended to hiin." "' Ah ! the old, old story that is ever new !' " quotes Mr, Fishback, as he peeps over the shoulder of his fair guest at the new arrival; and then, suddenly rising and confronting her, heexclaims; " You must have heard that story, very often, Laura —forgive my calling you so, but you used to permit it in the days we went blaekberrying together some ten years ago [ and forgive me again, but upon my word, I cannot help asking you, impelled as I am by some mysterious power, Why have you never married ?"

A blush rises to her cheek, but she looks up in his face calmly and replies : " I don't remember the blackberry episodes and I have remained unmarried because I vowed when a young girl never to marry unless convinced that 1 was the first and only love of the man whose wife I became." " Laura, I have never loved another." " Mr. Fishback, you forget my old friend Teresa, the sister of the girl to whom your brother Reginald is now making love on the lawn." " Goodheavcns ! Laurahow mistakenyou are!" " ' Twas with her you looked for blackberries. I never knew you to find any—not with mo, sir." •'Laura, how blind you were ! I sought her society only to be near you. I deolare, upon my word and honor, I lingered by her side for hours and hours in tho hope that you would join us for a moment or two during the time, and when you did, in that moment or two was concentrated the joy of the whole day. You were so proud, so cold, so reserved, I did not daro to approaoh you save through your friend; and.—" " And you did not bury yourself in seolusion for two vears after she jilted you and married Frank Huntington ?" she asks as ho pauses* " Great heavens ! how preposterous ! Laura, I swear.—" But, as he is about to swear, enter a procession of small nephews and nieces and attendant friends, the leader of which carries an old-looking box. "See uncle | tho bright-eyed little fellow calls out as he approaches. I found this old phonograph on the top shelf of your closet, where 1 was look.ng for your h-h lino to play horse with, and it talks like everything. With this he begins to turn the metal crank, and a voice—u somewhat shrill yov(ng voice, the voice of Teresa, sister of Bella—whilom friend of Laura Bcardsloy—begins to speak.

" Yos, L<*>n, my own. I will grant your impassioned prayer, and breatlie the words you lung to hoar into this casket, and then, when you are lonely or inclined to doubt me, jealous One, you can call them forth Co bring hack the smjlies to your dear heart. 1 do return tho love you so ardently avow, and I will marry you when tnnnmia gives hrr consent. Until then no lips shall touch tho lips made Mend by your kiss no harid sliull clasp the .bund tluit wears your lovely aTanmona ring, lint, oh, L'tm dttr, try to l'kii Laura a little for my sake. I know sho is all that you say alio is—affected, cold-hearted haughty

and disagreeable (I ani just naughty enough to be pleased wlien you tell me liit tieauty so much admired by others, particularly Frank Huntington, false into utter insiguiGcanco beside that of y»ur own little Teresa) —but, my Leon, try, tolerate her, for, strange as it may appear to you, disliking her as you do, I am quite fond of her, Goodnight, beloved. Dream of your Tessa." " That"—something or other—" phonograph !" said Mr. Fishback;" I thought I destroyed it long ago," as he angrily snatched it from the hands of the small discoverer.

" What did our humdrum ancestors do without these glorious inventions ?" murmured Miss Laura, as she quietly fainted away for the firet and only time in her life.

•' If over you go prowling around my room again," continued Mr. Fishback—addressing his unfortunate nephew, ami supporting Miss Beardsley with ono hand, while tho flung the tell-tale out of the window, where it broke into a dozen pieces as it touohed tho ground with a shrill earsplitting shriek—" I'll apply the doublo back action, self acting spanking machino until you roar for mercy." The procession, consideraly demoralized, started on the double-quick for the door, and Mr. Fishback, looking upon the inanimate form ho held in his arms, cried out, as he struck his forehead with his clinched hand, "She will never, never look at me again!" But she did, and, what's more, she married him a inon hj after. And—oh, the marvelous progress toward perfect woinauliood in this wonderful twentieth century '—although they have been man and wife for some tweuty years, she has never once said to him, " That voice !" Harper's Bazar.