The Storyteller.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume XLVII, Issue 7865, 6 July 1905, Page 4

The Storyteller.

A BIT OK ULUB CHIFFON

•In the first place," stated Miss Lainson with a mischievous dimple at the corner of her mouth, "the man 1 marry must be capable of shopping intelligently, should occasion require." Tom looked up with amazing promptness from the morning paper, which, ostensibly, lie had been reading lor the last ten minutes. In reality he had heard much of the lively discussion pursued by his sister and his sister's pretty friend. Miss Laiuson frequently came over* from a southern suburb to visit Florence. They had persuaded her to remain last night, and she had •breakfasted with them this morning; hence Tom's delay in starting for his office. He had been wishing, as he sat scanning the same news columns twenty times, that lie could discover the proper course to pursue with this extremely baffling and bewildering young woman. Doris Lamson was the most tantalising bit of femininity that be had as yet encountered. "Would you please repeat that last statement, Miss Lamson ?" he now requested. " I was saying," replied she of the saucy eyes, "that the man I marry must know how to shop. He must, | for instance, be able to match a sample correctly." "That surely, would be an easy test," observed Tom, with conviction. "Given the sample, a man ot direct and business-like-methods would have little difficulty in the matter." "Do you mean it ?" " slost certainly. The reason you women have so much trouble is because you don't go at things in a systematic manner. Now with a man " " Oti, we all know what a man would t.n," retorteil the fair visitor. "The point is, are you willing to prove it ?" Tom was on his feet in an instant. "Do you mean that ?" he asked quickly, with significance. ''lf so, 1 stand for a ready trial." " Good !" laughed Florence delightedly. "Let bim match thai blue chiffon (or your waist, Dotis. You brought a sample in your purse, you know." "Agreed," said Miss Lamson. Tom fingered the bit of fabric vaguely. "How much of this cloth do you Want ? " he asked as he got into his overcoat. "Cloth ?" rcpualcd £irls, laughing hysterically. " There's a man for you, Doris !" cried Tom's sister. "Any kind of stuff—veiling, chifion, net—all of it is cloth to him."

"What shall I say 7" demanded Tom with dignity. "Well, this is chiffon, sir—pale blur chifioii. Br sure you get just that shade. Three yards, please. Don't lorget. It's lor the accordeon pleating, also lor a finish at the tuffs—" "All right," interrupted Tom, hastily. He began to feel a trifle uncomfortable. " I'll take an hour off this afternoon, and get if lor you." Then brightening suddenly, "May I bring it over to you this evening, Miss Lamson ? You'll be at home?" "Well, you could have it sent, you know," she flashed back roguishly. "Now, Doris, stop teasing," remonstrated Tom's sister. "Yes, Tom you may take it to her. So now go " The thought that he had actually received this commission from Miss .Lamson sent a warm glow to his heart. He felt quite like a Benedick when Hiat afternoon he presented himself at the silk counter of the shop first on his route. "Two rooms over, three counters to your left," informed the man to whom he had shown ;hc sample.

Tom preceded in the direction indicated and after devious windings and turnings found himself in the department. Keenly aware that his customary "direct and business-like methods" weie failing him at this critical point, he retraced his steps, and began a series of inquiries at .various departments. He found drugs hoiserv, linings—everything but chiffon. "Finally a pitying shopwalker rescued liiin, and piloted liirn to the .-I! haven. Ami now for business. "Can you match this ? " inquired Tom briskly. The young woman in attendance Was sure she could. "Ah, yes. Hete is. .lust the thing, isn't it 7" Tom looked at the stuff she was unfolding. He felt the need for firmness. He hated to contradict her ladyship, but it must be done. He lold her as politely as possible that the two shades were widely dissimi* lar. " I'm sure you won't be able to match it any nearer than that," she averred, quite undaunted. "Now, wc have that exact tint in other materials. How about liberty silk, gauze, or—" " No, thank you," said Tom hurri«dly. "Nothing wili do but this .very cloth." Confound it, he hail said it again. He was sure, as he turned away, that he heard her laughing behind his back. He had less difficulty in finding the chiffon counter in the nest, shop A tall young lady with a large pompadour and faultless finger-nails took the sample, and bestowed upon him a glance of lofty serenity. "We don't stock this shade," she informed him. "It isn't woin this season." " It is the shade I want," said Tom icily. The young lady unbent sufficiently I<> exhibit some of the new shades. " This." she indicated, "is an extremely preltv thing—the very latest." "Hut," protested Tout, "it doesn't match the sample." The young lady mused a ni'Miicnt. "Did your wife want it for a Waist 1 " he inquired at length. Tom blushed furiously. yes. That is, slie already has

pai l of it ; <uid—" "Well, I'll tell yuu what you might do. Suppose you get enough of this for an entirely new Waist, ami let her use what she lias for something I else."

Tom began to mop his forehead. "How is the waist made pursurd the young lady, sweetly. ' I'm sure 1 don't know,'' he stammered in alarm. There was only one thing to do and Torn did it. He secured the sample and bolted, conscious that a politely astonished pair lof eyes followed him* even to the (door.

At the next place he encountered a professional hypnotist in the disguise of a salesman. At least, that was the conclusion Tom reached—afterwards. He was sure that nothing else could even have induced him to commit an act oi folly while fully conscious of it. When the clerk issfid, with Quality. "Here is iust fthat you want, how many yards, please Tom meekly answered "Three." He stood dumbly by and saw the shears flash through the Huffy fabric. The deed was done. Out in the daylight he opened the parcel. Oh, the sickening difference. Miss Lamson's was a soft, dull blue ; this had a greenish tinge. Tom walked on miserably. One thing was certain. He would not, could not face with that awful green-ish-blue chiffon. He obeyed his first wild impulse, and slid the parcel into the pillar-box al the corner. "How would you like to be the postman ? " was the hilarious thought that darted through his brain. He could afford to be happy now. The leaden weight was out of his pocket. Hi- could begin again. At the very next shop he met success. He found the exact shade of the sample. It was really wonderful how perfectly identical the tints were. He started for the train with a step as light as air. He smiled behind his newspaper all tlic way home. Florence was out for dinner, so he hail to dispense with his congratulations.

When he called at Miss Lamson's that evening his face was radiant. She opened the parcel with bright, anticipant eyes. "Ah. you did get it, didn't you she exclaimed. Then her expression changed suddenly. "Why, I told you to get chifion." "Well, isn't—" gasped Tom in horror. "This is mousselinc de soie." "Muslin—muslin de what'!" Tom sank dizzily in a chair. He had a vision of whirring clouds of blue chiffon. Then he heard Miss Lamson's voice. There was a little tremble in it. Poor boy. You needn't feel so dreadfully over it. I know you tried awfully hard—and " Tom looked up. Something in her eye:; made him bold. "Doris !" he cried. He put his arm around her, and she did not resist.

"Dear Doris ," he asked humbly, "will you accept a man who loves you very dearly, even though he cannot match a sample V Miss Lamson's reply sounded rather muffled, but Tom was satisfied.