The Normal Record. January- February 1906

              THE   NORMAL   RECORD
I procured it and marched back triumphantly with it to Miss
Smith, who said with a smile, "How did you ever guess it was mine?"
The voice sounded strangely familiar and I wondered if I could ever
have met her before. I looked at her more closely, and as she looked
like some one I had seen before I wondered if I hadn't met her, perhaps, when I had been visiting in town. She didn't seem to approve
of my looking at her and turned from me, so I had to give up my
scrutiny.
About three o'clock the dancers began to leave in couples or in
groups and we also took our departure. My sister had told me during
the evening that Miss Smith was going to spend a few days with her,
so I was accepted by her as an escort and my sister went off with
Will Jones. It was quite dark that night and we had taken the path
through the woods that I had mentioned before. I was talking (like
an "idiot" always does) when I saw something standing straight up
in the middle of the path before us. I thought at once that it was
Ray and was determined he should not have another joke on me. We
walked straight ahead and he never moved or even stirred. When we
came up to him I put out my hand and struck him a smart blow about
where I thought his face would be under the black cloth I supposed he
was wrapped in. I was very much surprised and not a little hurt, as
well as feeling foolish when I found that I had actually hit a post,
instead of Ray, as I had intended.
The blow brought me to my senses, I suppose, for I at once remembered that we had been building a fence across that field and I
had set that post there myself, leaving a place for a gate a little
to the right. Miss Smith seemed to have a very bad cough all the
rest of the way home, but which, even then, I thought sounded very
much like a giggle. I explained to her, as best I could, how Ray was
always playing tricks on me, but it only made her cough worse, so I
swallowed my humiliation as best I could and said no more.
I had always been angry with Ray for playing tricks, but that
night I was more angry because he hadn't been in the place of that
post. When we reached the house sister and Will Jones were waiting
for us in the parlor. They seemed to be enjoying themselves very
much, for as we entered they broke into shouts of laughter in which
M ss Smith joined, and I laughed, too, for want of something else to do,
1 suppose.
I didn't laugh long, however, for there was something so natural
in the laugh behind me that I turned instantly, and there, arrayed in
Miss Smith's dress and holding Miss Smith's beautiful black hair in
his hand, stood Ray. Pink cheeks, red lips, black eyebrows ar.d
laches, but still undoubtedly Ray, with his crop of yellow hair making a queer contrast to his "prepared face." At one glance I took
in the whole situation, and at another I measured the distance to the
door. The next thing I remembered I was sitting in my own room
actually cursing the luck that was always causing me to make a fool
of myself, and listening with rage to the shouts of laughter drifting
up from below.
This surely was the worst of all jokes and Master Ray would
be made to suffer for it. I called myself names not very complimentary, under my breath, and plotted revenge. After some time Ray
came upstairs but found the door locked and I sat silent and still while
he knocked and called for admittance. I wasn't going to forgive him
that time, and I haven't even yet.