Buchanan County bulletin. [volume] (Independence, Iowa) 1869-1891, 1874-11-06

was going, what was the use! She
could not let him go unmatched, how
ever; so, running up stairs, she has
tily donned a walking dress and hur-
ried out of the back door towards
the village. From the post-office she
would be sure to see him pass, and
it "would be some comfort just to do
that" thought poor Lottie, trying to
swallow the lump in her throat, as
she hastened along.
Once in the postoffice she dawdled
aimlessly about the counters, asking
for this and that, and keeping her
broad hat pulled low over her face,
lest the marks of tears should be
seen. She waited long time, watch
ing the street, but Harry did not pass.
The clock pointed to five minutes Of
perhaps he would be late for the
train. At any rate, he had not pass
ed, and there was no other road to
the station.
One minute of six. Surely the
clock must be wrong: No: for the
whistle of the train sounded with it's
first stroke,' and Harry had not gone
by. He had been late, then. Lottie
turned toward home in a hurry. If
she should not see him
She did not finish that sentence,
for she had no idea how seeing him
would help the matter; still she felt
more cheerful as she walked along
the sunny road. She had almost
reached home when she saw the OBJ
ject of her thoughts coming toward
her at a round pace. There was no
valise in his hand, and he still wore
his fishers coat. Lottie's heart gave
a great bound, half of relief, half of
apprehension. The first feeling quick
ly predominated, for Harry's strides
soon brought him to her side, and he
looked down on her from his altitude
Of six feet with a smile that betoken-
ed anything but displeasure.
"Where have you been running to,
you naughty child? And where
why, where's your seal ring?"
"At home," responded the puzzled
Lottie family.
"Why didn't you come to supper
and bid me good-by?',
"You haven't gone"
"Pm going, though. Will you
give me some sponge-cake for lunch
eon?"
More and more amazed, Lottie made
no reply at all.
Did you make the sponge-cake
we had for supper?"
eyes"
"Made it in hurry, didn't you?"
Why?"
"You didn't get all the paper off,
that's all. See what has stuck on my
piece, you small deceiver! Why did
you not use the postoffice instead of
sponge-cake? Eh?"
A small strip Of paper was laid in
Lottie's outstretched hand. Upon it
she read the beginning of her last
epistolary production Of the after
noon:
MY DEAR HARRY:-I don't know
how how to write this to you, and I
am very much ashamed to take back
what l said, but l never meant to say
it. l had to, because Mr.. Daven-
port
Here the paper was torn off, and,
besides, was taken forcibly out of
Lottie's hand, which was clasped in
two others.
"You wrote that to me? You mean
it? Say yes!"
For some time after Lottic's reply,
nothing connected or sensible was
said on either side; but when they
had reached the garden gate, and
were philandering under the elms,
Lottie said:
'But l don't see how you got so
much paper on your cake, thought
it was all in little fragments
Harry laughed.
81 couldn't break it easily, because
it was so tough-no offence to the
cook k-so | took a whole bar. |
couldn't eat it, for I'd no appetite, SO
I turned it over and looked at it, and,
singularly enough, / began to get
hungry Immediately. Let's have
sponge cake for our wedding-cake,