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Beach, Rex Ellingwood, 1877-1949

"The Ne'er-Do-Well"

"And if you hadn't
spoken I'd never have seen you, either."
"But I had to speak. You could not cross above."
"Awfully nice of you. Some people would have let me go away."
"But the orchid, senor. Do you fear to climb so high?" she
inquired, with the faintest gleam of amusement at his obvious
effort to prolong the conversation.
"Oh no!"
He cast about for something further to talk about, but, failing to
find it, began slowly to clamber upward, supporting himself upon
the natural steps afforded by the twining vine and the
protuberances of the trunk itself.
When he had reached the first fork, he turned and seated himself
comfortably, peering downward through the leaves for a sight of
her.
"Not gone yet!" he exclaimed. "That's good."
"Are you out of breath that you stop so soon?"
He nodded. "I need to rest a minute. Say, my name is Anthony--Kirk
Anthony." Then, after a pause, "I'm an American."
"So am I, at least I am almost. My mother was an American."
"You don't say!" The young man's face lighted up with interest,
and he started eagerly down the tree-trunk, but she checked him
promptly.
"The orchid!"
"Oh yes!" He reseated himself. "Well, well, I suppose your mother
taught you to speak English?"
"I also attended school in Baltimore.


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