Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1874-10-01
NO HERO AFTER ALL.


Demo, stepping out upon the verandah
where Tom Ford stood, staring alb
stractedly at the cloudless evening sky
"Only trying to devise some new
method of shutting off the mortal coil,
Tom answered, laying his unlighted
segar on the railing beside him.
"Haye matters reached such a DIES.
perate condition with youe p laughed
his companion. II should never have
suspected it.
at is my hero, not myself, is to be
sent out of the world" was the reply
'Can not you give me hint ? Poison
consumption, precipices, shipwreck
runaway horses. BAIL l have made
use Of them all till they have grown
wearisomely common. / am tempted
to advertise for novel way of Kidding
myself or other people Of life-even al
the risk of bringing whole host Of
detectives down upon me-"
"Why not let the poor myth live
questioned Helen, smiling at the
comical expression of despair Oh the
perplexed authors face.
"Impossible!'' replied Tom. ''The
lost heir has turned up, and is all ready
to marry Lady Gwendoline, and so this
hero-assistant hero. rather, is in the
way, and must be removed, even if |
have to do it in commonplace fashion.
You do not know what a benevolent
person am, Miss Helen, nor how
much ] have done for the happiness OF
my kind since first | commenced
scribbling. At the lowest estimate
have hunted ont and returned to their
sorrowing parents fully three dozen
heirs and heiresses-with and without
strawberry marks and tattooed anchors
on their arms. Ii it were not for the
base ingrstitude ofhumanity, my statue
arrayed in nondescript costume, ard
executed in the worst style of Ameri-
can art, would now adorn Central Park
or Union Square, I would like to be
a lost heir myself" he went on, musing-
ly, "only to be one it is necessary to
have liquid blue eyes and golden hair
and snowy brow; or raven locks
and fathomless dark orbs and classic
features, and not one of these attrac-
tons did unkind nature see fit to bestow
upon me. I am homely- not even
picturesquely homely, at that-do you
know it, Miss Helen.
''since yon have made the assertion,
can not be impolite enough to con
tradict it, she replied, gathering some
of the crimson leaves from the Virginia
creeper and putting them into her belt
as she spoke.
"Give them to me, please" said Tom,
stretching out his hand.
She shook her head and pointed to
the vine.
''For a momento of this evening" he
pleaded, in tone which was far from
sentimental.
GLOW many such mementos have
you already?" questioned she, still
keeping the leaves.
ga dead rose-some other plant,
which now looks and smells decidedly
hayey-a glove, spotted with lemonade
and of no possible use to its rightful
owner-a slipper rosette, big and ugly
as mushroom, and piece Of pink
ribbon much creased. which may, per-
haps, have belonged to Miss Halsted
instead of you," enumerated Tom
s'That is all, assure you"
"What are you going to do with
them!" Helen demanded, much inclined
to laugh.
"Keep them to sigh over winter
evenings when the fire gets low and
my segar il smoked out" Tom answer
ed, Zone must have help to misery as
we'll as TO happiness.
eff that be SO, here are the leaves,
laying them in his hand. 'May they
contribute their small share toward
making you wretched, since it is for
that you desire them.
"a thousand thanks!" he exclaimed,
put ing the coveted possession into his
pocket book, where the dead rose
already reposeii.
"Where are your other collections T.
asked Helen. Il presume you have
made quite number within the past
ten years,