The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1885-01-09
R0SALIE'S AMBITION.

which she sat with a pile of blar
paper before her, and running into II
adjoining kitchen where she thre
open the glowing oven, revealing
row OF golden pumpkin pies sadl
scorched, indeed, and which would, i
another moment, have been total
ruined.
"It's perfectly inspiring" she con
tinucd sarcasticly, having reseate,
herself at the table, and once more re
sumed her pen, and, also, her vacant
anxious stare at the pile Of white pa
per whose snowy pages were as yet
innocent of any proofs of the fair au
thor's genius, 'to be obliged to jump
up like this every ten minutes, and
make trip to the kitchen or the
grocery store. Suppose Byron had
been fated to write under such diff
culties-that he had been obliged to
bake and brew, to sweep, dust, and
do his own washing and ironing
would the world ever have been thrill
ed by his poetic genius, I'd just like
to knowP But there this isn't get
ting my own ideas into shape. Let's
see-where was l." and, recalling
her mind, by great effort, to her
ambitious task, she bent her whole
attention upon it, and scrubbed away
very industriously for good long
hour.
'There ~ she exclaimed, drawing
along breath of relief, and CHANGING
over the written lines with evident
satisfaction. 81 fatter myself this
isn't so bad, after all. Indeed, 1 think
it quite original, striking. Take these
lines for instance" and she musingly
repeated, aloud
Love, oh, love, II we must part,
Meier forget sweet Cupids DART
He'll enfold thee In his grasp
When mine arms thy form shall clasp
That sounds a good deal like Byron's
Maid of Athens doesn't itP'' she
unused, in tone of mingled pride and
anxiety. But I'm sure none of nv
readers can ever say that /"
'Ahem ~ sounded a deep, strong
masculine voice very near at hand. .
The fair poetess started guiltily and
colored to the roots of her auburn
hair as she looked up and beheld Kel-
sey Vernon, an old school fellow, and =,
until very recently her most favored
admirer, standing just outside the
open window (for it was one of those
mellow Indian SUMMER days when the
air is soft and balmy as June itself, r
and watching her with a very amused '
smile playing around the corners of a
handsome mouth, and in the shadows !
of two roguish, but frank and honest +
brown eyes. =
"Have you been listening to me?
10 believe Twas talking out loud" ex- q
claimed Rosalie. half-angrily. Aren't h
you ashamed of yourselfp" h
II should be if had played the r,
'avesdropper," he answered pleas W
ntly. THAT is why 1 called your at 8,
ention to my presence. And, by the
ray, here is something which the T
reeze must have ffuttered out of the
Iindow," he added, with twinkle in co
is dark eyes, handing her a sheet of 80 50
lickly scrubbed paper which she in -
'antly recognized as part of her "orig- le
lal poem. 10.
Original it was, indeed-highly so: te
nd no litterateur, seeing it, would in
ave wondered long at the sly smile in,
hich struggled to suppress itself on tb,
elsey Vernon's handsome face. t;o
Rosalie's own pretty countenance an
lshed more holly than ever, if posi- oh,
e, az she snatched it from him.
you have read that, and now YOU N.
e making fun of it," she cried, her thf
ne eyes flashing like sparks of steel. ma
3ut l don't care, Kelsey Vernon, 1 20
III be an authoress in spite of YOU" far
Il have no objection, Rosalie," he wa
liled, half merrily, half gravely. ma;
5ut l hope you will forgive me some &c,
y If l turn critic for a moment and fem
II you candidly that you will never bnr
the success in authorship that you nm
ready are in housekeeping. In that ino
'man's highest and truest sphere mss,
u are simply perfection. Rosalie the
Don't .Rosalie dear nue., if YOU '' r.
'ase, Mr.. Vernon" she retorted, VII
tn all the acidity that her sweet lips and
I'D muster. 81 won't spend all nv IeSs
} in commonplace household drudc- anJ
when know that 1 am fitted for coul
nething higher. Mr.. Phipps Mont % o.
merry says" fu,,
oh, Phipps Montgomery be hanged h a1n
was going to say)," interrupted the th oer
ing man somewhat warmly, for any licer
lslon to his fascinating rival from deno
allies pretty lips was sure to touch 81 erU
very sensitive spot in his heart. ~
1lpps Montgomery is a humbug. noorS
ale, from the crown of his glossy RI
hat to the toe of his elegant fra :
emit leather boots. Take my word 90
it, little girl, he is only flattering grea,
in order to win your heart and Of I b'
~ IN trues
, on tender, serious tone that
yed how dear to his heart was the
lie girf' whom he was so earnestly Ca,
ioning. some
Mr.. Montgomery is too perfect a has t
leman to laugh at me because serve
determined to rise above this COM bank,
place existence that You call .eoui
nan's truest sphere He has read three
} of my verses and praised them the 4
hghiy, and he ought to know all since
such things, for he lives in New 600, OK
CITY. requil
d the infection of Rosalie's voice that
those last three words was I'M thora
Ledly intended to crush poor KEEL ment
who could not boast of such a surpll
dvantaoe. York