The Morristown gazette. [volume] (Morristown, Tenn.) 1867-1920, 1878-12-11
I. Osmond.a desk as .h he smoke.

dinary to command 60 much enthus
iasm from YOU
: He was a handsome young fellow
of easy manners and cultured ad
dress; tall. with grace in ever mo
ton, and with a face that had It's
fair share of desired admiration.
Just now his dark eyes warmed
and lighted as he ran over the firmly
written pages of manuscript.
| at is well written-even for Mrs.
Chessom. Very graceful, very at
tractiye. Do You know, Mr.. Plume,
[ will confess to q curiosity to see
Mrs. Chessom. -lE y
| And so it happened that when
Dora opened her letter, all alone in
her little bedroom. with her cheeks
almost white as the envelope, and
her sweet, violet eyes darkening
with trembling fear to liquid dark.
ness, that the first thing she saw was
the cheque for fifty pounds, as it
fiuttered out, and the next the re-
quest that the author would make it
convenient to call at the Office soon.
That night Mrs. Chessom and
Dora cried aud laughed together,
and were the very happiest people
far or near.
II shall get well now; you are my
good fairy, my household angel,
Dora. No-rather my brave little
girl, my darlingF'
AS Mrs. Chessom predicted she
began to recover soon, for hope and
happiness and restful content are
more potent tonics than any medi-
cine physician can eoncoet; and Dora
wrote her exquisite stories; fred
now by the confidence that comes of
sweet success: and, by the time the
first Autumn tinges had come to the
trees and bushes in the lovely old
garden. Dora was able to leave her
mother and rush down to the bust
ness errand of whose import she had
no idea.
She was passing fair that day, iE
her unassuming, quiet toilet of SIM
pie gray lustre, with a creamy lace
tie at her white throat, with her lit
| tie gray straw hat trimmed with
soupcon of pale blue among the So
her tints and Mr.. Howard Osmond,
as he rose from his chair to greet
her, thought what dainty little
blossom she was-thought he had
never seen such sanity eyes or such
an exquisite mouth.
His surprise was in his eyes, in
his voice, as he addressed her:
This surely cannot be Mrs. Ches-
som ?''
And IL he had admired her before
in her pure pale loveliness, he did
not change his opinion st the faint
flush that erlmsoned her cheek.
"No, sir; I am Mrs. ChessOm's
daughter, Dora. Mamma was very
sick, and-and we had no more mon
ey. and IL had to do something. so
l tried to fill her place. 1t was /
who wrote the last story"
And her lovely wlstrul eyes SEEM
ed to plead that he would not think
she had been unkind or guilty of de,
ception.
Mr.. Plume rose from his seat and
came forward.
$50 this is the author of my favor
ite sketch. is it? Miss Dora Ches.
som, l understand? Well, my dear
child, you have made a remarkable
beginning, an unprecedented begin
ming. Sit down, sit down.
And Dora sat down. little con-
fused, very pretty in her girlish reti-
cence and dignity, and SO happy as
Mr.Osmond explained that he wished
to offer her a regular engagement at
stated salary; also that he wished
: to see her mother, and, as she was
scarcely able to journey to Loadon,
: it was obviously to his own interest
, to 60 and see her-but of course he
did not add it was equally in acoor.
dance with his own inclination to see
more of this charming girl, whose
: dark-blue eyes had made such sud
den impression on his heart.
Well-he did go down to see Mrs
. Chessom, and Dora. And he KEEP
on going; aud. one lovely day in the
budding Spring he told her he loved
her, and Dora nestled in his arms
and confessed her own passion fo
! him.
: So her literary venture was |
, grand success in every way.
Only, we warn aspirants agains
q expec ting the same results in detail
} for we rather think that. as a gener
e al thing, bachelor editors are not i'm
preston able to the charms of thei
unmarried lady contributors.
r A elegantly bound copy of Sar
a KEYS songs was put up at q churc