The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1876-02-18

( III.
| Max says my letters always are. ia
ha lie says it almost makes amends
for absence to receive one. So consider
yourself complimented.'
Poor Max 10
'EPoor Max, indeed Didn't Just tell
you that he's rich as Crmsus, whoever
he was l5y the way, if I'm not here
early you had better send the letter off
to catch the evening mail he'll be SO
sorry not to receive one to morrow
'And isn't there any thing iii partic-
ular that you wish me to say III it ? Let
me tell you it's no fool of a job TO write
| love letter to a man you never saw. !,
ssOhi you always hit upon the right
things to say. Play that you hal known
him always and loved him dearly"
''isat just give mo message of your
1 ownn pleaded Silvia.
"Ohi well, tell him tho last book he
sent me was absorbiug-of course it
was, or lie wouldn't have sent it.: and
you must know, for saw you reading
it; | really haven't had time to open
it, but you needn't add that
"Oh ! dear, dear.''
"Why, did yon bny it at that price ?''
| 4duStteu 14uDa.
"Can't you say any thing ANY thing
affectionate How am to do all that
sort of thing in cold blood ?''
"Why, don't travel out OF your way
TO say spooney things writo naturally,
just as it we were talking together, he
and 10
GLOW do know what you would
say tc hlm if you were talking togethcr?''
How can [ tell you sin cold blood p
Can't you imagine %
81 may compromise you I may be
too gushing or too frigid."
"Never fear. The king can do no
wrong. There's his last letter; maybe
it viii give you the cue. | declare, If
you make such fuss / shall be sorry /
ever set you about it.
81 am sorry already.n
! "The bargains made and the moneys
paid, murmured Luna, Significantly,
as she closed the door.
Silvia opened sshis last letter. and
sighed. What pleasant one it was, to
be sure, and how little appreciated
Sweetness wasted on the desert a,r
Supposing it were her own. Would any
one ever write to her like that ? a
genuine loye-letter, meant for no eye but
his sweetheart's, yet how desecrated.
The old line said "Men were 1eceiv-
ers ever" Had they taught woman the
craft? Here was she protesting senti-
ments she did not feel to a man She had
never seen. Was not the sill as much
hers as Iuna's? Ought she not 70 re-
sign her situation, rather, and trust To
Providence for another ? But there were
the twilis--two little baby sisters, with
only her to look to, only her between
them and the poor-house. Had she
right TO jeopardize their welfare Tor
scruple, as Luna had hinted ? This was
not the first time, to be sure, that she
had lent herself to the fraud but on
each occasion she had wrestled with
herself and had been worsted by neces-
sity. In fact, she had been trapped in
to it at the beginning. Luna had yawn-
ed one day and said: ssCome, Silvia,
dear; Max has been away fortnight,
| and | haven't written him once. We
were never separated before. I never
wrote him line in my life; but, good
ness. how his letters are accumuIating %
tossing a haIfscore on the table, ssand
sonnet hing must be done. / hate writ
ing. I was never taught, learned to
fiirt and dance and 91arEey ooess in
boarding school, | learned small talk
very small falkland crochet; but my
handwriting is all pothooks and skew
ers. Max would meyer speak to me
again it he once caught sight Of it; I know
he wouldn't. And, as to q composition,
| canlk say boo to a goose, on paper;
haydn't any head for it.. And his
letters are real poems. DO lash off
something, that's love. Let mo see
what you'd say, supposing you had
lover like Max-which = would be an
impossibility. of course But there arc
his letters. Read thenp
And SO, III frolie vein, Silvia DASH
ed off a lore-letter in the merriest mood
to an unknown Max, with just enough
love in it for flavoring and coquetry,
just enough to tantalize and make a
mans mouth water for more, and sign |
ed it ssyour devoted Moonsline,' . IN
travesty of Luna's name.
Splendid p cried Luna, reading it |
over Silvia's shoulder. stWbat prac-
tice you must have had.n
ssInever wrote a lovc-letter III nv
life, said Silvia.
"Why, what are you going to do ?''
asked Luna, precipitately, arresting the
halt-dried sheet that Silvia waved In
the air
"Tear it up, of course =
j 2 Never It's a work of art. Let me |.
read it again, myself, before you make t
away with it..
But Silvia fired with Indignation
later, when she learned that my Luna
had dispatched the letter to Max as her
own.
/" Oh how could You How could I
you e. cried Silvia
e was just the easiest and tho neat
est thing N the world. He had left
mo an envelope all directed to himself.
tor fear should forget. And be gives
me no end Of credit for my brilliant
me Scvigne, whoever she
may be. Ha la e,
Haven't you airy conscience, Lnnaa''
Ny dear, You have enough for rs
BOTH
But every little while ssn,a fhan C;I.