The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1876-11-11
Written for the Start
FACT versus FANCY.
BY JESSIE p.

IOSOuh oOSo"SAs
He with slouched hat crushed over
his eyes. She with the daintiest OF little
seal-skin caps tied jauntily over a mass
OF fluffy gold hair, and the tip OF trim
little boot peeping out from under a
travelling dress of navy blue.
However, although she is looking be-
witching, and knows it as well, the blue
eyes are misty with tears as the bell
rings, while the man in the slouched hat
bends low and whispers ~ must 60 now,
my darling; don't forget me. God bless
and keep YOU" His voice trembles. She
looks UP into the eyes SO brown, 80 ten
der; she reaches out a little hand, as II
to keep him, but it is too late. He has
only time to kiss once the white fingers,
and then he has left her, and she stands
on the deck alone. She feels inclined to
Isplash on the silk trimming OF her
Jacket, making two ugly stains. But,
Il ohl she hasn't time for tears, she "must,
must see him once more." She snatches
out her handkerchief and wipes her eyes
and blows her nose, and then peers
Ieagerlysover the vessels side.
| Yes, there he is, the sun shining full
down on his beautiful, sad face, on his
Ithread-bare, shiny coat, with the neat
little darn in the sleeve that she spent
such long time over yesterday.
The whistle blows, the planks are
Withdrawn.
| Elise watches the wharf until the men
I and women standing upon it have be-
come so many specks in the distance.
lThen when she can see her beloved no
longer she desoends from the deck to her
. state-room, and, throwing herself on the
bed, indulges in fit OF tears that do
their best to drown all the brightness
out OF her pretty eyes.
! By and by the tears cease, the sobs be-
come less and less frequent. She feels
better. She rises and bathes her face,
arranges her disheveled locks before the
small mirror, and as the supper gong
, sounds goes out to the table with the
healthy appetite OF seventeen years.
Elise Mcdonald is the cognomen In
} which this lovelorn damsel rejoices, and
| now for bit of her past history.
4 She is seventeen years old, as l have
| already told you; but mamma could
never until now bring herself to the point
of allowing her spoiled darling to Leave
her side for over twenty-four hours.
However, this time Elise pleads oh
beseechingly! "Does mamma never
/ Wdlb AGE w hhSW IN VAAA6t N|SNO ShS
want her to grow up a regular Ounce,
like Mary Jane Jones, who washes and
scrubs and thingsP And Aunt Jeffer-
sou is so kind, and she may go to
school for two years and graduate, and
know everything, and ohl will not
mamma let her go? Mammals obdurate
heart melts at last-But there Is some
one else who Is even more obstinate
than she.
"My little one" he says, "you know
, enough for me. II you go away you may
find some of those stylish city chaps
better suited to your pretty facet and,
darling, Two years are so longP
But She only throws two white arms
around his neck. "As If l could eueT
forget you," she says. "Darling, Will
be as true to you as hope God may be
to me-"
She is in earnest now, but he leans
, forward, "Swear it. Elise," he says;
"swear that you will be my wife or nc
one's."
II dop she says, solemnly; aud ther
over the lovely face.
, "My own little wifeW he whispers
and, as he speaks that sweetest, most
: caressing word in all the world, hel
cheeks bloom into widest rose.
:, So Elise is triumphant, and thu
t steamer Atlanta sails away, bear
> ling her far from the sweet
Southern land, the land Of tropie beauty
and song, the land of warm, glowing
passionate hearts.
Two years have passed away and Elise
Mcdonald has graduated from the young
| ladies' seminary atO.
Two years-a little time, when com.
t pared with a great, wide eternity, and
, vet how much they have changed her.
, From simple, impulsiVe girl she has
} become a beautiful and gifted woman
, She has studied hard. She has wor
many hard fought battle in the strife
} | for fame and has graduated with the
| highest honors of her class.
She is standing, this triumphant night
. in her quiet room; but it is not of hel
coming nonors that she is thinking, mol
of tho heooJ graduation drooS spread
out upon the bed.
In her hand are two letters. One she
. has read. 1t Is an offer of marriage from
/. one of the wealthiest OF OPS wealthy
D citizens. The other-she hesitates tC
Q break the seal. Too we'll she knows the
D dashing chirography, the free bold hand
= She tears it open at last, and reads 4
:. through. 1t is the saddest letter tina
9 s'He can but see" he says, ''that hi
him, made on that last day-and
although he loves her yet will
more than the old love, he still loves hel
!, too we'll to bind her by promise whiet
8 Is all that makes her his. Therefore, he
: saws it, although 1t 10 like death, s'Good
d by, my little wife. forever, and GOD bless
lyou."
A moment before her cheeks were
J flushed with excitement; now they are
pale. A wave of the olden time comes
! over her, a memory of those tropic, nights
: when the Southern moon shone down or
4 the ripping river where they two were
drifting In little boat, their souls filleC
with silent, intense rapture, too deeI
j for words. ....
D Then she glances at her soft, white
i lhands-hands fair and dimpled ant
, smooth as baby's. On the third fingel
), of the left plain gold band is shining
i Shall she send it back?
r Can she face the poverty, the priva
q ton, the isolation from the world which
7 she must face il she any longer wears
t that little ringf
8 She teels that she can not, that she
d could not endure 1t. mo, it is better To-