Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1884-10-03

served in q great brilliantly lighted
marquee, of music everywhere, and
above all judicious gloom of Chinese
lanterns in the more romantic and 50.
Guided parts of the grounds.
Everything happened precisely as 1,
ought, even Fred's well-devised scheme
to beguile Dolly into a particularly dim
and romantic and secluded spot, sd
there tell her that he loved her ami her
only. The plan was well laid, and as
has been said, went off with a precision
which is rarely granted to the plots OF
wooing man at moonlight fetes. But
the announcement did n very much
agley. At the critical moment, when
the heroine permits herself to be ten.
derby gathered to the hero's manly
heart, and Reginald whispers: "oh,
speak ever thus" Dolly drew herself
emphatically away. and burst into
tears. Fred was distracted. He did
his best, his most artistic best, TO COM
fort her, but she SO evidently meant
what she said in begging him not to say
a word that he was forced to wait
silently until she managed to compose
herself sufficiently to sob out:
"Oh-if-you only [sob] knew all
about me fsob] you wouldn't [sobl ask
me" (sob, sob, sob).
"But I do know, Dolly. I know"
"ob, no. you don't-you don't know
the worst" K
"There can't be any worst. Try me,
and see."
81 can't car not." quite compos-
thing tonight, when you 60 away
say another word, please. Indeed ]
can't stand it," and Dolly, wiping her
eyes, marched off toward the house.
Fred didn't feel very badly, for he
knew her secret, but he saw she was toe
much unnerved for an explanation just
then. After they reached the house she
disappeared for a few minutes, and
Fred, meeting her at the foot of the
stairs, walked out under the porch and
received from her a little box, some
three inches square, carefully tied with
blue ribbon.
"Promise me-" she said. with . trem-
bling voice, ''that you won't look at it
until you get home" And putting out
her hand: "Good-by; I'm going to-
morrow, you know"
He took the little hand, pressed il
warmly, and replied, with much feeling:
''No; not good-by. I mean to see you
in the morning."
Dolly turned away without a word.
It seemed at least a week before he
said goodnight to his hostess and found
himself at home, where he could exam
inc the overwhelming proofs of Dolly's
unfitness to be his wife. The harmless
little box contained several newspaper
cuttings. all verses, and all purporting'
to be written by one Daisy Fern. There
was "a Spring Twilight" s'The Return
of the Robins, - The Orioles Nest,''.
and various other not very. original.
headings, introducing not very originA
verses. 1t took Fred something more
than a minute to comprehend that Daisy
Fern and Dolly Ferris must be n and
the same person, and that all his we'll
meant animadversions against literary
wives had had a far different meaning
for Dolly from the n intended. He,
groaned just once, perhaps twice, to
think that even inability to read and
write couldn't save a woman from being
the victim of literary aspirations. But
one thought of poor little grief-stricken
Dolly banished his only hal%f-recognized.
misgiving. Besides, he wickediy re-
Elected that he would undertake to make
it impossible for her to find an aman-
uensis. y:
At half-past nine on the next morning
Mr.. Fred Rylance's gray Roderick was
paving the gravel in front of Mrs. Ferris
house, and Mr.. Fred Rylance in tho
drawing-room was holding q little
white-robed maiden to his heart, and
telling her between times that he didn't
care if she wrote T%heophrastus Such.
When a more lengthy interval of lucid
ity came to both, Mr.. Rylance asked
with amusement:
+,o But It,. Dolly Doll y; my dear, who wrote
"Who wrote them?' Indignantly.
"Why, they're mine, even if you don't
like them"
"Oh. yes, I know, but who was your
amanuensis? You know you told me
yourself that you couldn't write"
What" said Dolly, in amazement.
"What do you mean?"
"Why, at the station, the day you
came. when l wrote your telegram"
Dolly looked at him a momenti in utter
wonder, then burst into peals of laugh
ter. until a rapidly gathering cloud on
Fred's face sobered her.
ooh, Fred, forgive me- (more laugh
ter). Il didn' mean 1 didn't
know how to write, but you see
I had written and written SO much
over these things, almost day
and night, indeed-1 was so much alone
that l gave my whole time to it-and
finally l got that horrid thing the matter
with my wrist-writer's cramp, isn't it,
and the doctor made me promise before
| came away that 1 wouldn't take a Der
in my hand while I was gone, not oncel
Oh dear! I can not help laughing. 1t is
so ridiculous that you should have
thought l couldn't write"
Fred Joined in the laugh row himself
and, this trihe settled, they returned to
the real business of life.
Suddenly Fred jumped up and cried
in great anxiety: "And can you really
read, too?"
why, certainly"