THE CURL THAT STAYED.

Poverty Bay Herald, Volume XXXIV, Issue 10957, 27 April 1907, Page 5 (Supplement)

THE CURL THAT STAYED.

Edna Bray ton's hair fell m a tumultuous shower over her shoulders and out the window, and tempted Sidney Crowthers until he snipped just one strand, feeling sure she. would never miss il, and striving to excuse himself with the assurance that any other fellow would have done the same thing m his place. The day had been a tiresome One, because people could not choose their own best company. The party had left the hotel at Pasadena early m the morning m automobiles and had straggled up to the inn one bjj,one around noontime when the sun made havoc with the roads, and clouds of dust enveloping the suffering tourists. Edna Braytdn and Mrs Peele, with a chauffeur, and. Mrs Peele's young son, we're nearing the inn just as a tire burst, and, at the same time a sickening odor and a thick cloud of smoke testified to trouble m the gasoline tank. The women jumped from their seats with terrified abruptness, .the boy following excitedly. It was all over m a few moment?, except that Edna and her chaperon looked as if they had been powdered with coal dust. They decided to wait at the inn. until the damage had been repaired. Sidney Crowthers held up his auto to wait for them, because his was the orily one not loaded . Because '.. he could not have Miss Brayton with him on this trip, he had resolutely refused to bore himself with any one else. Miss Brayton, aware of this fact,, chuckled to herself, and felt that it wais a good thing for him not to have his own wdy. But fate said .other wise. WWjle he sat m the adjoining reception room and read to while away the time, Edna Brayton was sitting close, tq an open window trying\ to dry the long golden hair that streamed over her shoulders, for she wanted to keep her shirtwaist freSh. So an errant breeze played with it and gave promise of brisk drying, when suddenly a little golden strand flaunted itself past the window where Sidney Crowthers sat impatiently waiting. Taunting, beckoning, it came and went, until he was exhausted fighting the temptation. Then, he cut the. tiny lock,, and what he did with it. before placing it m his pocket no one ever knew. About an hour later Sidney Crowthers •received a little note, which the boy .aid j called for no reply. ■ "Mr dear Mr Crowthers," it read, "I thought you «were a gentleman, but 1 know now that' you are a thief. Po hot seek to question me, for your own conscience should tell you why all possible relations should cease from now on." It w»s a pale gray shadow of an imp that had reluctantly penned that note, for Edna Brayton had held her breath while the rascal cut the tiny golden curl, had felt the thrill go straight; to her heart from his hand, and longed to. feel it again. But she meant to teach him a lesson on presumption.. He. been -just a lltU6"t-_ 'con^'de.it'^niis own' charms— evidently he thought \f, , had only to desire a thing, and, by^hdok or crook, it would be his.So Sidney, , sat ih glum thoughts and whistled--tlie word . ' 'possible ringing m his brain with a knell of alternate despair and hope. Then it might have been possible, if he hii-p bided his time, for her to care for hiiri and c tell .-.him so! Heigho,hut he* was always putting I his foot m it ! ; VWhatx'cpuld he possibly say to mend the breach and restore himself m favor?- v The ink bottle rested oy the little desk m the comer — quiescent, suggestive. Helpless, hopeless, with. the tiny golden curl burning its way ,to the core of bis heart and filling it with" longing for the unattainable, Sidney Crowthers shook his own black head till the curls thereon danced defiantly, and, bending his broad shoulders to his unaccustomed task, be wrote thus : "My Dear Miss Brayton— lt takes a thief to catch a thief. You stole my heart first, and now you have stolen all I have tQ live for— my last vestige of hope.; Again I say it takes a thief to catch a thief, and you can't have that blessed little curl until you give me back my hope that youhaive so meanly taken away." He dispatched the note, and then paced the floor like a caged tiger. "Any fellow would have done it if he had any spunk," he said to the imp m the ink bottle. Five, ten, and fifteen minutes passed, while ,Edna Brayton puffed and pinned the golden hair to a semblance of order, and then threw on her travelling clothes and stole out of the door to the room uearby, where she heard those heavy, impatient steps. She stepped inside the room slowly and noiselessly. When she got quite close she suddenly pinned his arms to his sides, with her little hands, and said, tremulously, "I've come for my curl, if you please." But she never got it, and Sidney acquired title to all the rest of her golden head. — Grace R. Dwelley, m Boston Post.