More Tish

More Tish, by Mary Roberts
Rinehart

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Title: More Tish
Author: Mary Roberts Rinehart

Release Date: November 17, 2006 [eBook #19851]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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MORE TISH

by
MARY ROBERTS RINEHART
Author of "A Poor Wise Man," "Dangerous Days," "The Amazing
Interlude," "Bab," "K," Etc.

* * * * *
BY MARY ROBERTS RINEHART
A POOR WISE MAN DANGEROUS WAYS THE AMAZING
INTERLUDE "K" BAB: A SUB-DEB TISH MORE TISH SIGHT
UNSEEN AND THE CONFESSION AFFINITIES AND OTHER
STORIES LOVE STORIES KINGS, QUEENS AND PAWNS
TWENTY-THREE AND A HALF HOURS' LEAVE "ISN'T THAT
JUST LIKE A MAN?" ETC., ETC.
* * * * *

New York George H. Doran Company Copyright, 1921, By George H.
Doran Company Copyright, 1912, 1917, 1919, By The Curtis
Publishing Company Printed in the United States of America

CONTENTS
I page THE CAVE ON THUNDER CLOUD 9
II TISH DOES HER BIT 75
III SALVAGE 161

THE CAVE ON THUNDER CLOUD

I
It is doubtful if Aggie and I would have known anything about Tish's
plan had Aggie not seen the advertisement in the newspaper. She came
to my house at once in violent excitement and with her bonnet over her
ear, and gave me the newspaper clipping to read. It said:
"WANTED: A small donkey. Must be gentle, female, and if possible
answer to the name of Modestine. Address X 27, Morning News."
"Well," I said when I had read it, "did you insert the advertisement or
do you propose to answer it?"
Aggie was preparing to take a drink of water, but, the water being cold
and the weather warm, she was dabbing a little on her wrists first to
avoid colic. She looked up at me in surprise.
"Do you mean to say, Lizzie," she demanded, "that you don't recognize
that advertisement?"
"Modestine?" I reflected. "I've heard the name before somewhere.
Didn't Tish have a cook once named Modestine?"
But it seemed that that was not it. Aggie sat down opposite me and took
off her bonnet. Although it was only the first of May, the weather, as I
have said, was very warm.
"To think," she said heavily, "that all the time while I was reading it
aloud to her when she was laid up with neuralgia she was scheming and
planning and never saying a word to me! Not that I would have gone;
but I could have sent her mail to her, and at least have notified the
authorities if she had disappeared."
"Reading what aloud to her--her mail?" I asked sharply.
"'Travels with a Donkey,'" Aggie replied. "Stevenson's 'Travels with a
Donkey.' It isn't safe to read anything aloud to Tish any more. The
older she gets the worse she is. She thinks that what any one else has

done she can go and do. If she should read a book on poultry-farming
she would think she could teach a young hen to lay an egg."
As Aggie spoke a number of things came back to me. I recalled that the
Sunday before, in church, Tish had appeared absorbed and even more
devout than usual, and had taken down the headings of the sermon on
her missionary envelope; but that, on my leaning over to see if she had
them correctly, she had whisked the paper away before I had had more
than time to see the first heading. It had said "Rubber Heels."
Aggie was pacing the floor nervously, holding the empty glass.
"She's going on a walking tour with a donkey, that's what, Lizzie," she
said, pausing before me. "I could see it sticking out all over her while I
read that book. And if we go to her now and tax her with it she'll admit
it. But if she says she is doing it to get thin don't you believe it."
That was all Aggie would say. She shut her lips and said she had come
for my recipe for caramel custard. But when I put on my wraps and said
I was going to Tish's she said she would come along.
Tish lives in an apartment, and she was not at home. Miss Swift, the
seamstress, opened the door and stood in the doorway so we could not
enter.
"I'm sorry, Miss Aggie and Miss Lizzie," she said, putting out her