The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1885-02-13
plots do require some imagination.


in the country did nothing more ro-
mantle than digging turnips and pota
toes.
"But did you never have any thrill.
ing experiences yourself, Charley p
This is the most thrilling exper-
ieuce i'll my life, and / hope that it will
be the last one of that nature"
"Perhaps you had better try an es-
say 2"
"Jerusalem !"
"Charles Barret, if you get SO near
to swearing as that, 1 shall leave the
room y
Forgive me, Nell but you will tell
me what subjects you would suggest
for that-that-essay p
Something metaphysical of course
Persistence of Force, 'Relativity of
knowledge, ,-something more pro-
found, you see. | always did think
that you had kind of metaphysical
look about your forehead"
"Will yon tell me what kind of a
look that is 7" he asked, going to the
glass, and examining his face with a
somewhat anxious expression.
"Well,' answered Nellie, sit is sort
of misty"
"Oh, no, dear-not so bad as that,
hope !"
"Well, l wish you would not take
me up 50 quickly!'
"Oh, Nellie, am an idiot-that is
the truth-but it cannot be helped"
at must be helped, or we shall be
separated forever
"Lets run away and get married "
"No cannot do that--papa has
been too good aud kind. 1t would
break his heart. | could not be 20 un-
grateful, after all that he has done to
make me happy. Charley, you will
have to write story, because that will
be the easiest. Go home now and
think harder than you ever did before,
and the ideas must come. Remember
that our happiness is at stake
Poor Charley went home in des
perate state of mind After he had
reached his room, he locked his door,
took off his coat that he might breathe
more freely, lighted his meerschaum,
placed sheet of clean, white paper
before him, sharpened his pencil to the
finest point, and then knocked bis head
violently in hopes that wit would come.
After looking at the paper wistfully
for about ten minutes, a brilliant idea
almost took his breath away, and he
wrote quickly, for fear that it might
escape as suddenly as it came.
"There was once a young and very
beautiful girl"
But after writing that he stopped
short, and again waited patiently for
further inspiration. 1t did not come;
and, throwing down his pen in disgust,
he cried:
"The old man is crazy, and | am an
idiot I'll 60 to bed " which he ac-
cordingly did and in a few minutes
was sound asleep, his literary efforts
having exhausted him completely.
In the morning he woke up with
that uncomfortable feeling that we
have at times of something very disa-
greeable awaiting us; and after few
moments he sprung from the bed, ex-
claiming
at is that confounded story |
wonder if | can do anything this morn
ing"
Dressing himself quickly he again
seated himself resignedly and after
looking at the paper a short time, be
went to work, and absolutely wrote
one whole page.
He was triumphant, and began to
think that he might have mistaken his
own powers after all.
"Tll take it to Nell after breakfast,
he said, 'and let her read it. 1t is not
such bad beginning, ] am sure"
I So, with more hopeful countenance,
he ate his breakfast, and then started
off to show his first effort to Nellie.
Her face beamed as she took the pa.
per ; but after reading a few words,
she looked up inquiringly.
eyes as blue as spring, Charley
What special part of spring did you
mean, dear p
"Skies, of course. You didn't sup
pose l meant grass and leaves, did you!
l hate green eyes'
"Then let me put in skies Her
luxuriant yellow hair hung in heavy
masses down to her heels y Good
ness you wouldn't have her 90 round
the streets with her hair hanging down
to her heels How she would look !"
at would be splendid 4! And see
here, Nell, if you are going to criticize
me in that way, it's little too much. ]
don't believe you could do any better
yourself"
"Perhaps not but | should know
enough of ordinary propriety not to let
a young woman go marching round
the city with her sandy hair dangling
down to her heels"
81 did not say anything about hei
marching through the city. And tel
you now that will not try to write il
you make fun of me in that way. Sit
ting up half the night to write a story
just because your father is such an ole
-"
"Stop, Charles Barrett, right off
| I'll not have my dear good fathe
abused ; and if you're so awfully stu
| pid that you cannot even write"
"Yes, yes-now abuse me, because
am not another Bulwer or Dickens
I'll go home, and you may find anothe
and more clever
He had almost reached the door
when Nellie sprung after him, an,
throwing her arms around his neck
begged his forgiveness in way tina
would have melted the heart of Diog
enes himself.
| OF course Charles capitulated hin
self Immediately and a little osculs
tory performance was gone throug
with, which seemed to be wonderful
soothing to both parties.
They then went back to the story
and Nellie continued
"Shc was called Violetta, becaus
her eyes were like the summer violets
, But, Charley, dear, aren't We mi1in
, up the seasons little I just now yo
said her eyes were like spring"
"Well, erase it, if you choose-onl