Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 38: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

> 828 She liked the voice. It was a humorous, deep voice, carrying an underlying accent which proclaimed the speaker a South- erner. She rose and dressed, full of eager in- terest. The voice was now coaxing: “There, there, my dear—stand still. That’s a darlin’—” Lynnie leaned out of the window. Between her cabin and its twin next door stood an angry, bewildered Jersey cow. Squatting on his heels, his face puckered earnestly, a tall young man was holding a ten gallon oil can, the top chiseled off. Into this he was trying to direct a feeble strain of milk from the outraged animal. “You’re on the wrong side, you know,” Lynnie observed interestedly. The tall young man sprang to his feet. “How do you do?” he said. “How do you do?” answered Lynnie. “You are really on the wrong side.” “Ts that the reason of her agitation?” ‘““That’s one reason. Your cow—” ‘“ She’s not really my cow,” the young man began. ‘ She’s a rented cow.” Lynnie leaned farther out and regarded the cow with interest. “A rented cow? I never heard of such a thing.” ‘“The Requas, who lived in your cabin, brought her from California to give milk for their baby. She’s the only cow within a radius of five hundred miles—and she puts on airs on that account.” “ What’s her name?” ‘“ She has a beautiful name. The Requas called her Sukey—but I didn’t care for that. An obvious name, don’t you think?” Lynnie nodded in agreement. He smiled down at her. “Well, I thought up an appropriate one. I’m proud of it, and so is she.” ‘What is it?” “* Persephone.” “Oh, I’ve always loved that name! there a reason for it?” “Can't you think?” “Tet me s-e-e! Is if on account of her mother?” ‘““ Ceres? hard!” Ts You’re getting warm. Think ARGOSY-ALESTORY WEEKLY. “Wait a minute—don’t tell me!” Lyn- nie wrinkled her brows. ‘She came from the green fields,” he prompted. “To hell—” they cried in the same breath, and laughed together. “Tf you wait,” said Lynnie, “till I waken fAunt Jury, I'l! show you how to milk Persephone.”’ She smiled at his exclamation of admira- tion and relief. She went into the lean-to, off the kitchen where Aunt Jury slept, and aroused her. She opened the cage door, and the Prophet Daniel hopped out. He followed her around the corner of the cab- in, cocking his head suspiciously at all the strange surroundings. The young man held out his hand with an engaging smile. “Ym Archer Mackenzie,” he began. ** We're neighbors, and we must be friends.” “My name is Fanny Locklyn Brooke,” Lynnie announced in a sudden wave of shy formality. There was something at once gallant and happily trustme in her clear gaze. It was as if she expected every one to be as honest, fearless and strong as herself. “My grandfather,” began Archer Mac- kenzie, “ used to tell me of a Fanny Lock- lyn—” “That was my—” “She was very beautiful, he used to say.” “That was my great-aunt,” Lynnie told him. ‘‘ She was beautiful—and good. She has been dead many years.” ““T know. I think my grandfather loved her to the day of his death; although he loved my grandmother, too.” “Why, how could he?” began Lynnie. “Tt’s a sort of family gift,” the other said, smiling. The milking of Persephone was accom- plished with frequent laudatory exclama- tions from the young man. : Aunt Jury had started a mesquite wood fire in the kitchen stove. She went to the window and looked hard and suspiciously at the young man from next door. He and Lynnie sat side by side on a long box drawn up to Persephone; engaged in deep conversation. Cconmmicooolkks (C@