The new North-west. [volume] (Deer Lodge, Mont.) 1869-1897, 1882-12-01
WINNING BACK ALoyER.
Hints which venerabie Horse Reporter
Gave Depending Maiden.

Hints which venerabie Horse Reporter
Gave Depending Maiden.
Chicag Tribune.
"Is the hymeneal.happenings editor In,
sir?
A very pretty ysung lady stood In the door
way and glanced in an appealing way at the
occupant Of the room.
"Hymeueal means something about get
ting married, doesn't 1t ?" inquired the horse
reporter.
eyes, sir" said the young lady, "but I
don't want to marry"
"Oh. know you DON'T" said the friend Of
Maud s. "Girls never do. They spend
most Of their time trying to escape from the
dreadful abyss Of matrimony into which
countless young men are endeavoring to
plunge them"
"The object Of my VISIT" said the young
lady, sis TO see some editor In regard to 6
poem, and It occurred to that perhaps the
gentleman for whom I asked might be the
person having such matters in charge. have
met with sad disappointment, and have
written this poem In commemoration Of the
event."
'I'm sorry he got away" said the horse
reporter; "but perhaps you were lucky to
lose him. There isn't anything In this poem
about the brown mantle Of October resting
lightly on the hills, is there, or the deep
green Of the pines being reflected against the
turquoise bloom Of an autumn sky? Beca use
II there Is we can't take it. There Is moro
brown-mantle-of-O Octo Der poetry slowed
away here now than the window-clesner can
use in year. II you've got anything about
the white messengers of Heaven drifting ST.
lently down through the keen air, or the
gaunt outline Of the leafess oaks stan ding
haegard against an Implying SKY we might
| do business with you. Our stock of Novem-
ber poetry is rather light this season. you
could ring in something about bootblack
dying on the steps Of bankers residence
Christmas Eve, while inside the house the
wassail bowl was going round, Il would be
. DAISY"
'I'm afraid my poem will hardly meet the
requirements you suggest" said the young
lady, "because the theme IL q sad one, and
tho treatment Is naturally In accord with
this fact. can read |: to you"
"Nothing about put away his little rattle
in It, is there?"
mo, SIR"
"Nor 'the beautiful summer Is deal,
alas'2"
"Certsinly not"
"Well, then, you may read it," and the
horse reporter settled himself In . critical
attitude.
The young lady produced roll of manu-
script and read a. follows:
And this is the end Of all, Ernest! The end
Of our happy dreams,
A walk to the quiet graveyard, where the
snowy marble CLEANS;
Tablets of blighted hopes, and broken hearts
that moan
For their buried loves, and the weary years
that must be lived alone.
You 20 back to the world, Ernsst-men's
hearts SO seldom break
And under new stars, in new skies set, soon
other ties will make;
But 60 back to desolate life-no man can
ever be,
Though roam the wide world over, what
once you were to me.
And this is the end Of all. Good-by! Per.
haps it had caused less pain
To have gone our separate ways without see.
ing each other again,
For want of one little word, Ernest, lives Of
ten drift apart;
You spoke that word, but IL came too late; it
only broke my heart.
"Nice, amt it?" remarked the horse re-
porter when the reading was finished. "Are
you the girl that's been up to the graveyard
and taken look st the tablets Of bligh.ed
bones ?"
eyes, SIR"
"Ernest is going back to the world, is he?
What has he been doing in ST. Louis all this
time ?''
81 hardly think you appr eciate the circum-
stances under which the poem was written"
said the young lady.
"Oh, yes do. Ernest Is your young man,
and you have quarreled with him because he
only called you his tootsey- -wootsey eighteen
times, Instead of twenty, as you had figured
on. You think your heart is broken, and
you want to get even by breaking other peo-
ple's hearts with your poetry. That's wrong.
Just now the world seems desolate, and the
horizon of your life Is o'ercast with leaden
clouds. But time heals all wounds, and In
about month from now, when some other
young man mentions oysters, the chances
are you will beat the record getting your
seal skin sack OF the hat-rack."
"You are very much mistaken, sir" said
the young lady. "My love Is no ephemeral
passion"
"Do you still want Hrnest? ?'
"Yes, SIR"
"Well, can tell you how to get him.
"Oh can you9" asked the girl enthusias.
tically. 81 shall be ever so thankful IL you
will"
"You take this poem," SAID the horse re-
porter, "and send 1t to him. Then drop him
line saying the papers have agreed to print |
il for you. If he doesn't weaken when II !,
comes to having his name mixed up with a |
lot of Eraveyards, blighted hopes, broken |
hearts, and desoiate life shall miss my |
guess"
"Do you really think so ?" asked the youns
lady.
"Yes; really and truly"
"And will tell you whether or not your
plan succeeds" !" she continued.
Never mind that part Of It," replied the
compiler Of the 2:30 class. "The scheme
viii work all right. Come around again
after you are married, and will give you
pointer on how to keep Ernest At home Of
nights."
Beer Mt Penn's Bl-CentenninL
N. Y. Tribune