The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, 1878-04-30


nothing of Platonic philosophy of course.
Yet her ridlcule made the selfsatisfied
bachelor of art vince not a little.
You would find It decidedly stupid,
Miss Bessie" said he at last.
"Oh, no, 1 shouldn't. How could any
thing be stupid that comes from your
pen And then Plato-how nice 1t must
be to tell the world all about his philoso-
ply? Let me see. Was he the one who
loved good things to eatY No, of course
not. That was Ep- Ep-"
Epicurious," suggested Barry.
Yes. How ignorant in me not to
know Why didn't you write about the
the effect which his philosophy has on
modern thoughtp L am sure you are
qualified TO treat this subject, Mr.. Nun
son."
Before Barry conld interpret this re-
mark the young lady was at the other
end of the ground, driving an unobtru-
sive " rover" out of the way.
The croquet party seemed deucedly
dull'' to Barry Munson. Bessie, on the
other hand, enjoyed the game hugely.
"Odd sort of girl Bessie is, isn't
she ?" observed Barry to Miss Helen
Brighton.
81 hope she won't invite Tom in to
play ~ exclaimed the young lady, filed
with horror at the possibility of such an
event.
SIS Tom still one of Bessie's ad-
mirer's ?" inquired Barry, carelessly.
Perhaps she could answer that ques-
ton better than IT, replied Miss Helen.
Acting upon this hint, Barry put the
question bluntly to Bessie herself when
she had returned from her conference
with Tom. AS bluntly Bessie answered
it.
The people of Barborough began to
suspect, before the autumn had GRIM
soned the leaves, that Barry Munson
was in love with Bessie Charlock. The
same suspicion assumed a form of con-
viction in Barry's own mind. Never,
perhaps, had he been more deeply i'm
pressed with this truth that on q GER
tain October afternoon, when they walk
ed together under the overarching elms
that gave grandeur to the quiet Bar
borough street.
Bessie, would it surprise you very
much if 1 told you that loved you ?"
She did not answer at once but when
she did her voice was clear and un-
shaken.
No it would not surprise me very
10 lint II cl,
doubt your words"
"Suppose you were convinced of their
sincerity, might hope that you would
promise to become my wife ?"
mo Barry; L do not love you well
enough for that. When 1 promise a
man to become his wife, must feel for
him deeper respect than do for you"
She turned her wondrously truthful
eyes toward him, and kept them fixed
upon his face. The steady gaze brought
the color to his cheek.
What have ever done to forfeit
your respect p'' he asked after painful
pause.
Nothing; and you have done moth
ing to gain it. You have brains, educa-
tion, opportunities to fit you
for noble life. You ought to win q
name among men. Instead of making
the effort, you choose to do nothing-to
spend the money which somebody else
has earned, and to waste the time which
might be put to good account. Your
mind seems to be occupied chiefly with
thoughts of your personal appearance.
You never did an hours work in your
life. Barry, you have not grown into
the manhood you ought. You have no
purpose, no aim, no ambition. hate q
man without ambition"
"What is fellow to do, Bessie ? The
war is over; there isn't any chance to
become hero nowadays. And don't
know that there is any work for me to
do unless go into law; which I detest
cordially. You wouldn't have me be-
come a machinest like Tom Finch,
would you ?"
1 would have you become anything,
answered she, :" to show yourself a
man."
In the glory of the autumn sunset
Barry Munson made his way homeward
with those words ringing in his ears.
The fall of 1878 brought with it disas-
ter to the Barborough iron works of Mr..
Abner Muson. One morning the clocks
of Barborough struck seven, but the
whistle of the Barborough iron works