Dodge City times. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1876-1892, 1881-12-15

had written. Arrived at the lines
descriptive Of my imaginary boudoir.
smiled As my glances fell on n boot
Jack in one corner and the shaving-ap-
paratus in another CHANGING at the
place where the Dresden shepherdess
ought to have been. my eye fell in-
stead upon a pipe. which l took down
and filled. and then resumed my writ
ing with considerable competency.
.'This may sound to you rather school,
girlish, and NAV n well confess that it l.
not many years-perhaps months would be
more accurate-since | left the precincts of
n finishing school. Finishing school. in
deed, Much | learned there besides the art
of doing up my hair. However, the defects
Of my education l must remedy myself, and
l try every day to devote a few hours 10
serious study. But 1t Is very hard to
seclude myself long enough to accomplish
anything. People call; l must go TO garden-
parties; l must hold solemn couciaye with
the m;lliner and dress-maker: In short, i
have constant demands of a most frivolous
nature upon my time.
''All this you will probably laugh at; and,
lest l write vet more foolishiy, 1 will bring
this letter to a close. II YOU are not quite
disguised with me, do write again soon.
Faithfully yours.
JANE DILL
may as well confess that thought
this letter successful imitation of some
of the epistles that l had myself re-
ceived from feminine hands. 1t sounded
enthusiastic and very Missish." and
sent it oil that afternoon with bold
heart.
"Jack," quoth my uncle, who met
me as came from the post-office. -
verify believe you are making an ass of
yourself over some girl. l don't be-
lieve it is the muses. you are counting:
it is no muse; it is miss" And with
this he passed on, chuckling at his own
wit.
As the DAYS went on, however. my
uncle's words seemed in fair way to
prove true. l thought only of Miss
Screven. My novel 1 left untouched.
and my rhvming dictionary accumu-
lated dust slowly, but surely. Fled
were my visions of astonishing the
world with my genius. | lived only
for the mail from Boston.
As re-read the letters / received
from Miss Screven, can make some
excuse for my infatuation. They were
frank and outspokel. and sometimes,
indeed. tinged with cynicism; but
through them there breathed a sympa-
thy, a tenderness, that touches me even
now rs read them over. Finally, at
my solicitation, she sent me her photo
graph, which showed her to be a regti-
lar-featured. large eyed woman. of
rather a serious cast of countenance,
indeed, but with a lurking smile in the
mouth that / could not but confess was
large one. She was not a beauty, l
saw that, but she had an earnest, in
teresting face that grew upon me every
day.
Little by little l gave myself up to
thoughts of her by day and dreams Of
her by night. Her letters awaited
with feverish Impotence, and if one
were delayed | was in torment.
make no excuses for my folly, dear sir
but prav do not forget that
was only one and twenty then, and had
fed myself plentifully with novels and
poetry.
The correspondence was kept up all
the summer and autumn; but in De-
cember there befell what was to me an
awful calamity. Miss Screven did not
write. sent imploring letter after
letter, but no response gladdened me.
HAS she Tilted you?' said Uncle
Dick. heartlessly. when he noted my
pale face. In truth. could not sleep
nor eat; was consumed with fear and
What could have befallen
her?
l endured it for just ten days. and
then l packed my sachel and went to
Boston. Bah! what day it was when
l srrived there! 1t had showed little,
aud then thin, cold rain began to driz-
zle down despairingly. The weather
suited me better than the garish splen-
dor of the hotel, and wandered forth |
that evening, half-unconsciously wend-
ing my way toward the street in which |
Miss Screven boarded. found myself