Marion Marlowe on the Prairie, or, A Thrilling Ride Across Kansas — page 10: what you’re looking at

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8 ‘oo just as much as I wants to, but I mustn’t love Jackets, ’cause Jackets is naughty.” “Why, what has Jackets done?’ asked Marion, quickly. She was greatly interested in Jackets, who was her especial protégé. She had found him in St. Paul selling papers on the street, and he was such a weird little fellow that she promptly named him “the Mascot.” It was through finding him that they found Ida Inez, his mother, who was by far the most satisfactory soubrette they had ever had in the company. At Marion’s ques- tion little Ruby pursed up her lips. . “Jackets tried to tiss me,” she said, with a pout. Jackets.” “He is a naughty boy. My don’t love “Oh, I am sure he was only in fun,” said Marion, with a sly look at Miss Allyn. “Jackets is a good little boy at heart, only he is very mischievous. I shall certainly scold him if he teases you, darling.” “Yes, indeed! Fairy Godmother Marion will box his ears and turn him into a woolly dog if he is naughty,” said Alma, smiling ; “but here comes the youngster, so he can speak for himself. Come here, young man, and report!” she called, severely. Jackets, a bright but undersized boy of ten, came sidling up to her. He had eyes as sharp as a ferret’s, and now they were twinkling merrily. “Dat’s jes loike a goil! She'd squeal if youse looked at “Wat's de row erbout, anyhow, Miss Mar- ler? “Why, Jackets, you must not try to kiss Ruby, if she doesn’t wish you to! It isn’t polite,” said Marion, trying hard to keep er!” he said, grinning. I’se ain’t done nuthin’ !” sober. Did she say dat? Well, she ao mistake! As if 1d git like W’y, I’m er Pinkin’ of payin’ me addresses ter ther stoige “Hully gee! is er peach an sweet on er infant her! carpenter's daughter, Miss Honorée Henrt- MY QUEEN. ettah O'Reilly McGilligan! Dat’s wat I calls er fine-soundin’ name, Miss Marler; an’ say! she’s er la-la, an’ don’t youse fergit it!” He made a face at Ruby and vanished be- fore Marion could get hold of him; but all the way to the dressing-room they could hear him talking to the stage hands. 6 ‘“He’s a great favorite, isn’t he, Alma?” asked Marion, as she set Ruby down at the “And to think -he has never broken his promise not to steal! Why, his own mother did not be- lieve he would keep it when he made it.” ‘Well, you can’t blame her, for he was a terrible little thief,’ was the sober answer, and then the girls hurried back, for the cur- tain was about rising. decor of her mother’s dressing-room. It was after the final curtain that Marion found time to open her letter. She gave a little cry of delight as she turned to the sig- nature. “Tt is from the commodore,” she cried, joyfully, as Alma looked at her. “He doesn’t say a word about his arm, but just writes to tell me that some of his old neighbors are in that party, and that they have two or three days’ travel before them yet before they reach the Missouri. Oh, how sorry I am that we are obliged to disappoint them. Still, the commodore says they are coming both on business and pleasure. They are traveling on their ponies.” “How I would like to see them on the prairie!” exclaimed Miss Allyn; “but, oh, dear me, what a slow way of traveling! I am sure it would be very monotonous unless one had very good company.” “Like a certain Mr. Henry Fairfax,” sug- gested Marion, slyly. “Own up, Alma, dear: wouldn't you like to cross the prairies on a prairie schooner with Henry?” “Yes, Marion,” responded Alma, with a jolly laugh, “it would be glofious to spend one’s honeymoon that way. Still, one can't Gomrlebooks- com