The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1874-05-28

alite would ever have forgiven him for it,
especially when he went so far as to sug-
gest the transfer of her maiden affections
to somebody else. But Edward Wallace
didn't know any better. He had no idea
in his blessed innocence of the storm he
was raising. Theo. stopped tapping with
her feet, and sat like stone woman.
"Why don't you say something, TheO.?r
She sprang up with white face. and her
eyes blazing. She stamped on the floor
passionately.
s. Ned Wallace, don't You ever speak to
me again as long as you live.''
He started in dismay.
4" | mean every word Of it. If live till
am a hundred wears Old, III never forget
nor forgive what you said TO me just now.
To tell me to my face that you know | am
in love with you, and if it's just as con-
venient. you wish I'd make il somebody
else. Oh, good God, it's too much ~
She covered her face with her hands, her
cheeks flaming with anger and bitter hui
initiation. Edward Wallace made the sud-
den and uncomfortable discovery that he
had hopelessly put his foot in It. He knew
| of old something of the temper he had
aroused, and he stood appalled,.
"Theo9ora, said he, with faint sound
of emotion in his voice, "you and / have
been good chums all our lives. Once,
when you were a little girl, / remember
you had pet kitten which you liked very
much. One day you caught that kitten kill
ing some young birds. You had liked her
better than anything else in the world, yet
you took the pretty kitten and strangled
her with your own hands. and from that
day to this you have never allowed another
cat in the house. Are you going to turn
away from me tonight for good and all ~
Yes" answered TheO., speaking very
slowly, 4" for good and all. | can't get over
! things like other people. | don't want to.
4 After tonight shall never speak to you
again until L forgive you, and that will
never be on earth.'
Then good by, Theodore, answered he,
speaking, unlike himself very rapidly.
I'm more sorry than | can tell that I've
offended you. Always remember that
when you think of me, if you ever do. If
you don't find me here in the morning,
you will know why"
So he turned and went away. Theodore
covered her face with her hands, and burst
into passionate tears-the woman's weak
refuge of tears.
Next morning at breakfast Theo. came
into the dining-roOm, and Daddy Dinkle
! handed her note, and said:
Read this to me, TheO. | found it on
my plate just now.'
twas from Edward, and it said:
DEAR FATHER DINKLEBACH-Tve started to
/ Brazil. | could not do as you wanted. | know
please you, but cannot. Forgive and forget me,
I if you can, and may God bless you and Theo.
/ EDWARD WALLACE.
Daddy Dinkle leaned his head on his
hands and groaned. 1t was a cruel blow,
and it stunned him. A dim mist came over
/ his eyes for moment. When he looked
up Theo. was crying in the corner. Poor
/ girl! She had learned to cohjugate ano
| far too well. Daddy Dinkle looked at her
| Perhaps it was liberal learning'' which
made his intuitions so fine and quick In
that moment he looked down through the
past like vision, and his own blighted
youth rose before him like a sOrrOwful
ghost. He went over to TheO. and laid his
hand gently on her head.
"Theo, my girl, don't cry,'' he said.
81 have no patience with crying women.
Leave crying to babies, where it properly
/ belongs. Please God, you and [ have
many brave days work before us, my
child. Together we will tread the glori- |
Gus paths of learning. We will climb yet !
higher heights, my daughter. and you
shall lead and will follow. We will wait
for the promised time together. In the /
/ pun Sull vi llDCldl Hlll0 liltIt Is DtIUtt-
ual triumph. unallOyed by single pang,
( the splendid triumph of knowing and
understanding. Knowledge places man
on level with the angels. There are Joy, /
consolation and repOse. turned there for
comfort, Il long time ago. and it has never Z
/ failed me. Theodore, daughter. gift of
/ God to "A lonely old man, cOmen'
- will, father
So two went out to work, where it was
to have been three. They never men
toned the wanderer, never heard from
him. The old man and the girl shared
( their studies together. At length an at /,
tack of sickness came upon Daddy Dinkle, (
and weakened him so that he was never
/ quite the same again. After that TheO. .
/ heard part of the boys lessons. Liberal |
/ learning" brought her Joy and consolation /
indeed. She seemed quite happy, after a !
/ little time. Her eye was bright as
birds, and her voice as sweet, hopeful and
CHEEKY. Year after year she studied with .
/ the old man, and year after year she took .
more and more of the boys lessons in her (
own hands. They called her the "girl- |
professors" and she laughed and went on
in her own sunny, spirited, ambitious way, /
a steady inspiration to her boys and the /
old man, now beginning to be little child F.
ish, and losing his eyesight little. But .
her hair turned gray when she was nine
teen years old.
A lover or two crossed her quiet life, as .
the years, went on. That was the only .
time her bright. sunny spirit ever seemed |
disturbed. Her soft, pink cheeks, had /
turned very pale, and she seemed faint and .
breathess for moment, and then she had !
said mildly and firmly that her life was |
devoted to the old Professor and the boys. |
She never looked for, or indeed never |
wished for, any other life than her present .
one. So the flying years still went on, and
Theodore lived as much shut out of the .
world as if she and the old Professor and |
the boys ha" been cast away ona green isl .
and in mid-ocean.
At last there came a SorrOwful day, |
when Daddy Dinkle found himself in total |
darkness. His wOrn-out eyes had failed |
him completely, except for tears, dear, |
stricken old man. Those rained down .
from his poor old ewes freely enough, but .
tears could not bring back the lost light OF .
day. And now Theodore took the d .
Professors tasks all on her brave two .
shoulders, and the Academy, for the culti-
walton of his liberal learning, flOurished as |
hardly ever before. 1t was still carried on
i'm Daddy Dinkle's name, but almost the (
only thing he did was to be led TO his old /
time chair in the morning, where he spread |
out his trembling hands softly and repeat |
ed the opening prayer, which he had not |
missed for twenty years, except during his
illness. The Academy boys looked up to |
Theodore with perfect alteration. She was
so wise, they thought, and learned, and .
vet so young and merry in her heart, and .
she could actually understand boys games. |
The most unruly pupil she ever had sur
rendered Internationally when Theodore |
beat him playing checkers.
"She can play checkers" he said, in /
amaZement. - She is the first woman .
ever saw in my life who could play check !
ers."
Daddy Dinkle rubbed his hands with
glee, and said:
Il planned out work for three people, /
and this girl does it ali herself, better than
three could have done"
Still the wing-footed years glided on, /
and the young woman with gray hair kept .
her school. and did her quiet work and .
lived her quiet life bravely and well, until !
one day she found herself thirty years old, |