The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1885-09-25
A BOX LUNCH.
How it Smoothei the Path of q
Persistent Wooer.

how 1t SmOOthed the Path of q
Persistent Wooer.
'Looks if there might be beech-nuts
over there in the grove, sonny" sug-
gested Mr.. Luther Varney, alighting
from his wagon in front of square. old
fashioned house ut the entrance of Oak
land village. "Youm may run and gather
some while I'm making my call''
'Why can't l GO in with you, father"
'queried the maladroit youth. Maybe
they've got apples.''
''No. no, Willie; you'd be in the way.
l want to ask Miss Meserve about her
fathers last sickness. and-and so forth.
You'll have apples enough when we get
to your aunt Bowen's.''
The boy reluctantly climbed the fence,
while his father hitched the horse-a
proceeding as unusual as it was need
less; but one must pardon little irreg-
ularity in two wears widower 'look-
ing around" Years ago. before he
wooed Miss Pamela Giddings, Mr.. Var.
ney had cast vigorous love chances to
ward DIR. Meserve's pretty daughter
chances that filled shy Miss Olive with
sweet confusion. Had he been less
bashful,' less awed by her superior
worldly advantages, and had she been
less coy. their earlier romance might
have had happier ending. But in that
case. how would it have Jared with the
good old doctor, shortly after this strick-
en- helpless with paralysis? No married
daughter could have ever nursed him
with the undivided care and tenderness
henceforth lavished upon him by Miss
Olive.
1t was the subsequent year that Miss
Giddings challenged Mr.. Varney's at
tention, SO to speak, and he married her,
taking her for better or for worse. If
she proved worse than he had antici-
pated. he had not been the man to saw
it. He had faithfully ministered unto
her in health and in sickness: he had
smoOthed her path to the grave with due
regret. At her decease he had sincerely
mourned, cot even to himself admitting
that her life had chastened him more
than her death. But time, the great
CONSIDER, had now assuaged his grief
and paved the way for human COM
forter. Not that he forgot Pamela. At
church he often thought of her as a
high-voieed, somewhat uneasy angel in
the heavenly et,oir, but he thought also
of his motherless boy. What would he
not do for this dear pledge of affection?
For Willic's sake he ought to marry
again; and then. looking askance at
trim, rosy Miss Olive in the adjoining
pew, the bereaved man realized how
sweet might be sclf-sacrifice. He had
come to regard this silent Sunday prox-
unity as the cr.wnipg pleasure of the
week, and abundant recOmpense for the
long ride and the longer sermon. He
had manifested his reminding affection
for Miss Olive by sundry eloquent looks
and hand pressures. but until this golden
October day he had not ventured to visit
her. Spying him now from her sitting
room window, the timid little woman
dropped the rug she had been braiding,
and sprang up in a flutter.
"Why will he? In broad DAYLIGHT,
too! The whole village will be talking. ="
calculated she, with an instructive glance
at the mirror.
A lady likes to look presentable in
saying NO as well as in saving '.Yes. :"
and because Miss Olive had fully made
up her mind never to be q wife, was
that any reason why she should not wish
foreman an attractive spinster? Shrink
ing from appearing over-eager to admit
possible sutton, she dallied till the echo
IF Mr.. Varney's knock had died away
before opening the door.
"How do you do, Mr.. Varney??" said
she, her voice slightly tremulous. In
Pamela's lifetime she had called him
Luther.
'.Never more rugged. and I hope
you're well. Olive. I'm taking Willie
20 his aunt Bowen's to spend week or
two, and as 1 was passing, 1 thought
I'd drop in and see how you were. Sis
ter Bowen always likes to hear from
you," he added, with embarrassment
Hinged with hypocrisy.
''Oh. my health is invariably good.
thank you," said Miss Olive, ushering
her guest into the spick-a nd-span parlor
sacred to callers.
Establishing his tall person in the
largest rocking-chair, Mr.. Varney
crossed his right hand over his left. un-
Willingly bringing into bold relief his
frayed right wristband.
1T seems sad to see that room desert
3D." said he, with a sympathetic nod
toward the open-sitting room formerly
devoted to DIR. Meserve. But you
can't wish your father back. Olive"
mo. not for his own sake,' answered
the daughter, with feeling. "After his
mind failed. life was no enjoyment to
him. But do miss him SO! He was
all had.''
Il know. Olive-yes, l know. I've
thought of you great deal lately-a
great deal. 1t must be desOlate for you
alone in the old house. and it's desolate
tor me in mine. Olive I've been
hoping"
'.At first 1 felt as I'd nothing to live
tor" interrupted Miss Olive, in quick
alarm. but don't feel SO now. No,
indeed. OF course must mourn for NV
father, but 1 keep busy, and make q
companion of Climena, the orphan
took from the pOor-house."
''YOu always did have q cheerful dis
position, - remarked Mr.. Varney, look
ing down with IN air of reproach. Per.
ceiving the dilapidated cuff, Ae artfally