The Sentinel. [volume] (Trenton, N.J.) 1880-1882, 1880-11-13
PRIMROSE.
You have decided to leave the farm
then, Walterpn 'ne i"i liz

"ao noI Dorn to be q farmer T am moi
kolng TO make elave of myself here all
my life for bare existence, when there Is
cAance OF fame and fortune for me- in
the CITY," A'-o ~
Inc girls fair head deooped, andg her
slender fingers interlaced. themselves
nervously as she said:
Only a chance, Walter! Think q.
what you are willfully throwing awav
Ior = vague hope"
Inose men who turned their backs
upon the mean drudgery OF farm life and
became powers in the land depended
upon the same chance" he insisted.
am only woman" she said. with
a SAD smile. but have thought about
tnls matter since you talked of eoinp
away. know that for every one who
succeeds thous and 60 down and are
tfamplfd under foot. One success
means hundreds failures. It is law
of existence" y
You take gloomy view Of it, little
frlend," he said, smiling. cit seems r.
me that you might find 1t in your heart
to encourage instead of trying to depress
| me-"
she looked at him again muteiv:
and as she stood there, with her mild
EYES, 'ull OF unshed tears, fixed upon
nlm. a monetary struggle took place
in his heart.
lie had never been conscious how
much he loved her until this moment
when they were about to part, perhaps
for years.
AN almost overwhelming conviction
oeset him that here, in the simple way
OF ME to which he had been born, with
the love OF this pure-souled, sweet faced
eiI., he had already found the all-in- all
OF existencei but he shook it off with an
angry effort.
Speak to me, Primrose" be said,
impatiently. "At least, advise me-"
NO." she said, quietly. "Advice
from me would be mockery in the face
OF your resolution. You will 20 out
into the world and work out your ap-
pointed destiny. can only pray tor
your success"
Nothing could aid me more" he re-.
! Piled, with t-emor in his voice.
None So true and steadfast as you,
Primrose. l will show you that am
worthy OF your best thoughts of me. !
will work and conquer. When the bat
tie is over l will return and offer its
fruits to you'll you will take me with
them, Primrose"
A faint flush stole into her cheek.
i know you do not think so meanly
of me as to believe that good or evil for
tune can alter my feelings for you.
am not deceived, Walter. You leave
me with double love in your heart
that which you have for me is divided
| with your ambition. But, remem Der,
if time should show you how poor is
the fruit of ambition, that l shall love
you all the more if you come back to
me poor and disheartened.
He turned away to hide his tears; yet,
with the perversity of his nature, he
merely bade her farewell.
Ste recalled him with hesitating
voice.
81 have saved this money, Walter"
she said, ''Will you not take itP
shall feel that have helped you a
little"
She extended the purse toward him
with a wistful look that nearly un-
nerved him again. He took it, and, ex-
tracing the money it contained, put it
back into her hand, while he hid the
empty purse in his breast.
"I will keep that to recall this hour.
And this" he continued, taking her
about the waist and kissing her lips,
"shall be more valuable to me than all
the gold in the world to cheer me in my
gloomy days."
Turning at bend in the road to look
back, he saw her standing where he had
lett her, the morning sun shining down
upo n her fair hair and white-robed
figure, and then went on with an ache
at his heart that not all his high hopes
could smother.
Walter Oakdale's experience in the
city at the outset was similar to that OF
thousands of other adventures into its
fierce vortex.
Alone and without friends, the young
man soon found his courage oozing out
under an uninterrupted series of failures
Ready and eager to work, he found the
granting OF the bare privilege to labor a
favor which he could not procure.
Every opening seemed to be blocked by
hundred as eager as himself The
hardships he had spoken OF SO bravely
were not long in presenting themselves.
For a while he managed to procure the
means of the meagerest existence by
unmitigated toll OF brain and body. At
this time he often lay awake at night
from sheer fatigue, longing for the scent
of the pines and new-mown hay upon
the old farm, and ready to sacrlnce al
his hopes for the privilege OF standing
once more beside Primrose. to feel the
pressure cf her soft hand.
But his pride was not yet broken. Il
was too late to 90 back now. he Woule