The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1883-09-14

Chtcago Tribune
"Do you like apple pie?"
The soft, signing wind of a dreamy, one
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS even.
Ing in June was kissing the fluffy mas Of
golden hair that surmounted Ethlyn Nc.
Nulty's perfectly shaped head, and as abe
looked trustingly up into the face Of the
one man in all the wide, wide world to
whom had been given the priceless treas
ure Of her girllsh, summer.resort love,
George W. Simpson felt the balm OF her
doughnut breath on his lips and knew that
come veal or woe, be the day radiant with
golden sunshine OF Fortune, or darkened
by the gaunt, hsggard figure OF Despair,
there would always be one heart that beat
for him alone, one soul to which he could
make fast the storm-tossed bark OF his
hopes and 60 ashore on the widest kind OF
hurrah, secure in the consciousness that
upon his return the old scow would be ct
the dock.
1t is to the man oil the world-one who
has passed the bock-beer sprisgtime Of
life; who has seen the bright aud beautiful
visions OF youth fade silently away before
the cold, biting Observation-Disclosures
cellar and no. winter pants in. the house
blasts Of adverse fate, and in whose nature
cynicism has unsurped the place Of trust
fulness-that the pure and holy love Of a
woman about whose cold feet he knows
nothing comes with force that has some
thing almost terrible in its intensity. To
George w. Simpson, who had so long
looked upon love as an idyllic dream-the
rose. colored Pigment OF disordered imsg
nation-the fact Of his deep affections Tor
Ethlyn McNulty came as revelatation-a
porter-house steak oasis in the boarding.
house desert OF his existence. And when
he knew-when the ruby.red lips had
whispered shyly into his large sumptuous
ear the words that told him bis love was
reciprocated SO fully and completely that
it looked as II the other side must certainly
be blufiing-he had felt calm, peaceful
Joy that lifted him above the cold, cruel
world with all its bitter disappointments
aud despair, and seated him, silent aGd
alone, on the shot.tower Of gratifed hope.
The days since they had plighted their
troth beneath thespreading branches OF the
linden trees that lined the pathway leading
through the lawn TO Distress. Warrant Cas-
tie had passed in aslow, Sc. Louis-merchant-
in-a-hurry fashion thatto George w. Simp-
son was simply agoni2lng; and now, on the
evening before the day ON which his hopes
were to find glad truition in welded bliss,
they had met again beneath the lindens to
say once more the words that repetition
only makes more sweet. Ere the last rays
OF another setting sun shall again gid the
eternal hills and such stray COWS as happen
to be standing around, casSoCked priest
shall make these twain one for life, and
George will be so loser. This last thought
steals over him as he stands there, Ethlyn's
arm around his neck, and as 1t swashes
mourniully around the precincts ofhig soul
his thoughts drift back to the happy past
when he was merry, light-heaIted boy
with sore toe
Bat suddenly the touch OF dhmask
cheek against his own brings the rsverie to
close. A pair Ct bright, sparkling eyes-
eyes that will soon be picking out bonnets
at his expense-are looking at him, and he
fancies that in their depth he sees tiDRe
OF melancholy, lambent CLEAN OF no.
carAmels.for-Lhree.days that goes TO his
very heart.
"You are sad, my darling" he said, press.
ing her closely to his midship rib OF his
Iarbeard side. "Why do you look go sor-
rowful2"
Because" she replies, "you have not
answered my question. II asked you If you
"Yes," be says, 81 do. I am deeply
enamored OF pie in every shapen
Hardly have the words left his lips when
Ethlyn head drcops, and presently her 1.-the
form is shaken by storm OF sobs. George
Is horrorstrickep. He has not felt such u
shock since the White Stockings Won
game.
"Why do You weep, my precious one 2"
he asks, bending tenderiy over her.
Because" she answers him, her voice
husky with grief, ~ cannot make pie"
els this true? Are you certain thsre is
no mistaken"
"None, none" Ethlyn means, despair
ingly, ~ cannot cook at ALL"
"Ihen," he says, raining q shower Of
kisses on the upturned face, "you are more
precious to me than ever"