The farmer and mechanic. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1877-1885, 1882-05-17
The Usual Roasting place.
Must really go, sweetheart ?

Must | really go, sweetheart
Yes. replied Lillian Mcclure.
placing her shapely white hand IN his,
aud looking into his face with tender
earnestuess that showed the true woman
llness Of her nature; !; 1t Is better, far
better for both IF " that We should part
| forever, but a she spoke the hot tears
of pain welled up into her beautiiu.
brown eye, those eyes that had witchcd
with their bri- -ht g.ancc- and dreamy
tenderness So many men-and with lIt
tie sob of pain Lillian head was bowed
upon George W. Simpson shoulder ia
an ecstasy Of grief.
'Couldn yuu put i ten year limit GA
your bill, darling asked the youug
man, bending gently over the httle head
that was pillowed 80 tru,tiugly just und u
his left ear: Il certainly ought to nave
as good a chance as a Chnauan.
A low moan of pain and a convulsivr
shake Of the little heal W., the only re
>popse.
Bur George was not to be denied 80
easily. Tan | not have one hope he
said, one litlc nickel plated, lo-cent
hope p
Lillian lifted her head aud looked at
him steadily. Perhaps, she said, IL
cold Batfin'> Bay tones, ''you would drop
! if house fell on you, but | begin ,o
doubt lt. Know then. since you irt5
have it. that under no circumstances cda
| ever accept your protfered love, for /
am packer ) daughter. and pack
daughters come high this with q
naughty expression that lower case type
cannot convey.
George w. Simpson saw at once that
this proud beauty had been making a
plaything Of his love. The revelation
was terrible one, but he bore it brayey.
Very we'll : he said, in husky,
haven had drink hours tones
You have stamped with the iron heel Of
ocorn upon the teuder violet Of my bud,
| ding love, but some day when your chill
| dren little winsome brats with sunny
smiles aud an assortment of collie that
will keep you up three nights every
week-are climbing upon your knee until
you are IN danger of becoming knee
sprung, you will perhaps remember,
with tnge of sadness in the recollec
| ton how you toyed with the love Of a
| loyal, trusting, Cook County heart and
threw forever over a young and happy
| lto the black pail of disappointed hope
l
roses Of my love wither and waste away
until they lie shrivelled and blighted by
the dusty roadside of Life, and you can
bet that feel pretty tough about it.
have seen my beautiful and stately Ship
of Hope with its tall, shapely masts and
towering wings of snowy canvas, that
sailed away SO buoyantly and bravely
over the shimmering sea not many
months ago, come back to me shape
| less wreck tapering spars that were
so white and clean now Jagged and bro
ken, and to them clinging the dark sea
weeds, while of the sails that rivalled the
clouds in feecy purity there remain only
blackened shreds that flap dismally in the
moaning wind whose voice seems to
sound the requiem and drge Of my dead
and buried love- | have got the boss
wreck, and don't you forget it.
Lillian looked at him steadily for a mo-
ment. ''Do you mean those words you
have spoken, George?" she asked
You can BET your life | do he an
swered ia low, passionate tones.
And do you really love me SO dearly"
'WeH, | should gasp" was the re
ply, pearly tear glistening in George. i.
off eye.
Then" said Lillian, twining her arms
about his neck, Il will roost on your
knee next Tuesday evening as usual.
Papa would never forgive me if | let a
man who can talk like that go out of the
family"