HOW THEY SAY GOOD NIGHT.

Taranaki Herald, Volume XL, Issue 9194, 23 September 1891, Page 4

HOW THEY SAY GOOD NIGHT.

They have had a long evening together —three whole hours— but it doesn't seem more than five minutes to them. Still the inexorable clock isAmnbuncing the hour of eleven in the most forcible and uncompromising manner. He knows that he ought to go, because he must be up early in the morning. She fully realises that his immediate departure is necessary^ for has- not her father threatened to come down and "give that young Simpkins a piece of his mind if he don't leave by eleven o'clock in the future?" They both understand that the fatal hour has come^ yet how they hate to depart ! " Well, I suppose I* must be going," hei says with a long, regretful sigh. " Yes, I suppose you must," she rejoins. Then they gaze into each other's eyes ; then she pillows her head upon his bosom ; then their eyes meet,- and he mentally swears that if he can get his salary raised he will make her Mrs G. W. Simpkins without further agonising delay. He asks her if she will not be happy i when the time comes that they will never, never have to part, and she murmurs an affirmative response. Then follow more kissing and embracing. The clock does not announce the quarter-hour, because it is not built that way, but nevertheless it is now 11.15. They do not imagine that it is later than 11. He asks her if she ever loved anyone else, and she says "No ;" and the:j he reminds her of a certain Tom Johnson, with whom she used to go to the theatre, at which she becomes very angry, and says that he (G. W. Simpkins) is a " real mean thing." Then G. W. S. arises with ! an air of dignity, and says that he is much obliged to her for her flattering opinion, I and she says that he is quite welcome. 1 Just then a heavy footfall is heard upstairs. She glances at the clock, and perceives to her dismay"that it is 11.20. She had expected to have a nice little I quarrel, followed by the usual reconciliation, but there is no time for that n6W: 1 She throws her arms round his neck, and whispers iri great' 1 agitation that she. believes pa is coming. G. W. S. quakes inwardly, for her pa is- about four 'sizes larger than himself; and of a cruel; vindictive nature ' ,• > ' .'■"■' ' But the footstep is heard no more ; papa does' not appear. G. W; S. puts on overcoat. Then the couple stand by the door and settle the Tom Johnson matter. She says she never caied for Tom Johnson, and he says he knew, if, and that he (G. W. S., you understand) isa brute, and that she is an angel,- and that he will never again refer td the said Tom Johnson. He will, though, the very next time they meet, just as he" has ever/ time 'for the last two months. ' While they are talking the clock strikes the half-hour, but they don't hear it. The Johnson business disposed of, they disi.uss their future prospects, vow eternal fidelity, compare themselves to' all the 1 famous lovers of history, and indulge in the usual osculation. Suddenly the clock begins to strike twelve, and at the same moment a hoarse masculine cough is heard in the room overhead. The fatal moment has really and truly arrived this time. One more kiss, one more embrace, and they part — j he to go home and oversleep in the mornt ing; she to receive the reproaches of an i irate parent, who hasn't been young for such a long time that he has forgotten all about it.