River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1885-02-26
WHICH WAS THE HEROs


much against me, jessie"
And it is, don't you know? What
romance could there be in falling in love
with somebody one has made mud pie.
with, and gone coasting with, since one
was first able to toddle? Ned, you're
an awfully nice friend, -but-well
my lover must win me in romantic
way, and he must be stranger, with
poetical eyes, and musical voice, and
and"
"a perfumed fool, which nothing
earthly could make of me-" Ned Alvon
said, angrily. "You have been reading
some high tragedy novel lately, and
your fancy has gone with the hero
some impossible creation of the authors
shallow brain, no doubt But let us
| talk IGNORE o this nonsense. | have
told you how dearly / love you,' his
voice softening, "and have asked you
to be my wife. Give me PLAIN yes OIL
no Jessie, and make it yes, if you
can. | will cherish your youth tender
| ly, my little love, and make your age
q peaceful one-for age will come to
us, Jessie, darling-and we Will but
love each other more tenderly for the
wrinkles and the silvering hair; will
you make me miserable for a dream
vision Jessie? 1t will mock you bitter
ly at the last, dear; and II love you
with my whole heart. Do you not love
me at ala very little, my pretty
sweetheart"
Il like you very, very much, Ned,
the girl answered, slowly; "but no, ]
don't love you at all you are quite un-
like my hero"
Your heron Ned exclaimed, bitter
ly; "you will never find him, jessie"
She flushed holly, and her eyes
lighted as they went beyond her com
panion and followed the graceful figure
of horseman that was approaching the
farmhouse slowly. And Ned, seeing
that look on her face, turned his eyes
in the same direction as her own. In a
moment they grew dark as night, and
his lips frightened.
Jessie, he said, sternly, "this isn't
your hero, is it?"
You're not, at any rate; so don't in
quire as to who may be-" the girl said
sharply. I'm going in now. Good
evening, Ned"
Good evening" Ned answered stiffiy,
and turning ON his heel, strobe rapidly
off in the direction Of his own farm,
while Jessie Moore, instead of going in
as she had said, fastened along path
which ran through the old orchard,
and found the horseman-none other
than Squire Rodneys son and heir
waiting for her at the stile, while his
horse was cropping the grass in the lit
tie lane near.
Young Rodney, as she gave him her
hand, bent gracefully over 1t and touch
ed 1t to his lips with the air of court
Ter, while pretty Jessie colored and
trembled With delight.
An hour later the squire's son was
riding slowly homeward, look of pos
tive amusement in his eyes. 1t was as
vel that the girl he had left at the
still, looking after him with bright, ad-
miring eyes, did not hear him say
laughingly to himself as he waved his
hand to her:
"What romantic little rusticl"
How often she traversed that orchard
path Jessie Moore did not, in after
years, care to remember. But, when
summer was dying, occasionally she
found herself keeping the tryst alone.
For even gay youth who has no occu-
patton save seeking for something with
which to Stay the tagging hours finds a
pretty face, when seen too often, pail
on his fancy; and so. on the evening of
the concert in the village hall, Jessie
dressed for it with nervous fingers and
tears were in her pretty eyes, for he
had asked her to meet hun that after
noon at the stile and he had not kept
his tryst.
She looked very sweet and girlish in
her dainty dress of pale cashmere when
with her father she entered the spacious
hall She was shown to seat which
commanded a view of the door, and to it
her eyes we're constantly wandering,
while she paid but little attention to the
music; and when the concert was hall
over he came-her hero.
He came, but with him was fair,
fower-faeed girl, proud and dainty.
gracious and beautiful, and as they
were shown to seats which had been re.
served for them Jessie caught o
whisper from her neighbor which
turned the lights dim for her for mo-
ment and made the sweet voice of the
singer seem horribly discordant.
"Thats the young lady who is to
marry the squires son in the winter.
Isn't she pretty? They say she's a
great neiress."
Then she shut her pretty teeth to-
gether tightly, and forced back her
composure, and when the concert was
over and she met them in the crowded
aisle, she was smiling little, if trife
pale, and she bent her pretty head to
young Rodney with half proud indif-
ference, at which he stared.
The following day she received anote
from him, asking her to meet him at
the stile at sunset; she sent no reply,
and he, greatly to his surprise and cha
grin, kept the tryst just that once alone
for Jessie did not come; she was in her
own coy parlor with Ned, who had
dropped in for the first time in month
and to whom she was very, very kind,
so kind indeed, that, when he was part
ing with her at the little gate, to which
she had walked with HIM, as had al
ways been her custom, he took
her pretty hand in his and held it tender
ly, looking yearningly into her down
cast face.
Jessie" he said, 81 suppose I'm
very foolish, considering that I'm not
hero and never will be one, but | wish
you would try to love me little, dear;
l cannot help loving you, and l shall
so love you all my life"
Her lips quivered little as she lis
tened. How differently the other had
wooed With whispers low and sweet
and thrilling; with delicately-turned
phrases and poetical fervor; but-but
he had all the time been pledged to an
other, and had laughed at her for her
faith in him! Her hero he had been,
but she had held him noble and true,
incapable of wrong, and yet, what he
done? Said false, fair words to her
and really loved the proud, sweet, faced
heiress who was to be his wife, If hon
esty of speech and upright life made
the hero, why-why the hero was be-
fore her, humble farmer though he was,
and she laid her other hand impulsively
in his, her cheeks dimpling with the
smile that pacted her pretty lips.
'fOh, but you are hero, Ned, she
said softly. looking shyly in his face,
"and and if you love me so think
/ am sure-I shall love you well some
day. Not now; not just yet" with
half sad droop of the pretty eyes, 'bnt