The Nevada picayune., 1885-01-08
rust you will respect my opin.

He went away, for the first time during their engagement, without 8 kiss, and Daisy, standing there on the piazza, thought how unrea- sonable Herbert Winfield WAS growing.
 But pretty girl of l6 cannot al ways regulate her freaks and fan cies, as if she were staid matron of ur-and-forty-and the very next day Miss Daisy allowed herself to be coaxed to a picnic party, where MT. Revere Sykesleigh was one of the princi. pal actors, and of course MT Sykesleigh, being to a certain de- gree responsible for her presence, was obliged, not at all unwillingly, to see her there.
 And, as Ill luck woald have it, she was just driving up to the door, sitting by Mir. Sykesleigh's side, when Herbert Winfield en- tered the gate. He turned instant ly away.
 "Eerbert," she called, leaning over the side of the carriage, Her. bertr'
 But he either did not hear her or would not heed, aatd Daisy was too proud to repeat the caA
 "Let him go," she thought to het selt, with provoked dignity.-- "He will come back soon enou ugh."
 "Here, however, was where she misealculated tke relative strength of a mans pride and a mans love! Herbert waited fer her to send fer hina; she waited for him to come, and neither of these events transpired. At the end of a month he wrote her brief note of farewell; she answered it by en- closing the engagement ring with out a word C. comment.
 "But I won't send the little gold dollar" she thought, with an inrol- untary pang at her heart. 'He will never think of that"
 How many engagements that might nave gipened into a long life of mutual happiness, are broken just that way! Alas, and did we know all lIfe's secrets, how often would our hearts grow towards one anothesl
 Ten years afterward, and Daisy Wallace, far away from her bower ed country home, was standing be- side a meagre fire of carefully hus- banded cOals, her hands thought fully clasped before her, after the old, girlish fashion she had not yet forgotten.
 "I don't like to part with it, mother," she said sadly; Git was papa's present in the old days.'
 "We can remember papa with. out any such relics, Daisy," Mrs Wallace answered, 'and we need the money"
 Daisy took down the little clock, with it's carved garlands of ivy leaves. from which the dial peeped with gilded hands and figures trac- ed in dainty enamels.
 "I suppose it must go," she sighed, ''but 1 shouid like to keep it."
 Nevertheless, Daisy put on her shawl and bonnet and wrapped the tiny clock in fragments of brown paper, as if it had been human creature.
 The keeper of the second-ha curiosity shop was not at all anx- ious to buy the clock. "He had ma. ny such trihes on hand already" he said, "they did not sell well, but to obiige the lady he would let hes have dollar for it."
 "A dollar"
 And that's more than it's really worth," the sly Jew answered.
 What was Daisy to do? What can a poor, forlorn woman do when all the knaves and cheats in the world conspire against her? Only submit-and so Daisy left the clock and went slowly home with the one-dOllar bill in her portmonaie.
 The Jew put the clock in his window, chuckled to himself over his excellent bargain as he did so and it was not long before a GUS toner arrived.
 Herbert Winfield wanted jus such a picturesque piece of carv ing for his library mantle-the very man el he and Daisy had talked
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