Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1874-02-13
ONE OF A THOUSAND.
BY EBEN e. REXFORD.

I wish had five hundred dollars Ora
ham Marsh said, as he looked up from the
paper he had been reading.
| what would you do with it p asked AL
ice Moore, smiling down into his face. She
| had laid aside her work, and had come t.
| his side.
L would buy partnership in some relia
BILE firm where young and active partne,
is wanted he replied.
Would five hundred dollars do it p she
asked.
Not five hundred dollars in itself, but
with what I could put with it could east
| ly get chance to invest it as proposed,
he answered. But the five hundred is what
| is needed, and without it there is no use
talking
And if you had tiff you could buy in
| to some firm, what then p she asked.
What then? Why we could be married
and have home of our own, that's all,
he answered.
A soft light came into her eyes.
Perhaps if we work little harder, you
| and I, we can get it inside of a year, she
said resolutely.
Il don't want you to help get it, he an.
swered. You work hard enough over that
everlasting scribling of yours now. I want
10 get home where can take you, and
let you give up this drudgery of writing fol-
living wholly
1T isn't such very hard work, she said.
Il should like to help to get home. You
ought to be willing to let me. I shall be
the one to enjoy it most
4 know, but you work hard enough now,
he answered; a smile curving the lines
about his mouth, as she let her hand fall
caressingly on his hair. 1t was pleasant to
feel her touch upon his head, and to know
that she cared so much for him.
4 shouldn't mind little extra work,
she said, thoughtfully, because [ should
all the time be looking forward to what
! the reward of it would be. You work hard
it's no more than fair that I should help
you, if l cam
Yes, 1 know 1 work hard,' he said
That's a fact, Alice, shouldn't work SO
| hard if it wasn't for you.'
We'll, then, since you work so hard for
me, you ought to let me work a little for
you,' she said. 1T will only be an extra
poem OF story week. In that way [ can
get something to help you in this plan of
yours, perhaps
well, don't mind your trying, he said
| at last, 'but don't like the idea of your
working any harder than you do at pres
ent.'
She smiled down into the handsome face
Of the man she had promised to marry. 1t
was not a strong face. There were lines OF
| weakness about the mouth, and of indecis-
ion in his features which a physiogomist
would not have liked to see.
But to Alice Moore, who had SO few
friends, he was more than you can imagine
unless you are in circumstances similar 10
those which surrounded her. To heI mar
riage with him she looked forward long
ingIy, trustingly. Then she would have a
home Of her own. Then when love sat
down beside their own hearthstone, they
would smile at the world and have strong
hearts to battle with it..
Alice wrote the extra story every week,
! 1t was task sometimes to muster up ideas
when ideas seemed nearly exhausted, but
the impulse that prompt her to perform
this extra labor kept her steadily to hel
determination, and the publisher who had
consented to take the stories she proposed
to furnish him each week, found them
promptly on hand.
! Any one who knows anything about
writing for living knows that it IS
hard living that one gets in that way, III
nine cases out of ten. Alice found it kept
her busy to write enough to keep herself
clothed and pay her board bills, and afford
] the occasional recreatons which she knew
she must have, if she kept to her work.
But every time she thought of the home
she was going to have, and the love she
was going to have in it, her fingers flew
over the paper, and it seemed to her thai
the stories she wrote then were her bes1
ones.
Il am laying up quite little sum toward
that five hundred dollars she said te
Graham Marsh, one evening, when hi
stopped in to chat an hour or two, as nj
did quite often.
4 think I know where l can invest it,
he said. I heard of an opening yesterday
Lent told me about it.
The year went ON slowly, it seemed u
Alice Moore. She grew more ana NOR
weary of the life in Mrs. st. Johns board
ing-house. It was 20 different from VIVA
her ideal homle-life was, SO lacking uFter
ly in thousand nameless things that max
i life what life ought to be.
BY and by, as the year was drawing 70
close, Graham Marsh's visits became les
frequent, He pleaded press OF bushes