The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1886-09-30
A POOR GIRLS TRIUMPH.
BY PAUL PASTNER.

~ aoh iACINDhs
The editor of the Summerville Dailu
NeUS snatched up his shears. cut. a
rolumn-and-a-half story from a city ex-
change, and sen it upstairs to Nina
Kelsey to set up in Bourgeois for the
'ourth page of Saturdays NeWs. Nina
Kelsey and a lady companion, some %
years her senior, set all the padding"
OF the News-the poetry the literary
excerpts, and the stories. Nina set
most of the stories. 1t was some COM
Tort to her young, romantic nature to
"ead them from the copy" as she
worked at her case. Mrs. S%turdevant,
ner companion. had long passed the
age of sentiment, and she liked to set
the poetry and the briefer extracts, be-
cause. in the language Of the printing
office, this was 'phat matter" and
with its frequent paragraphs, and in
denied lines made the Thousand ems
go up faster. So both were satisfied.
If a story came up, it was quietly PIN
ned to Mina's case. while the poetry
and scrappy extracts went into Mrs.
Sturdevant's drawer.
Nina Kelsey was glad to get a story
to-day, because she was feeling lone
rome. In fact, she was suffering from
q fit of the blues. Outside it was rain
ing, and the dingy windows of the
fourth-story room were all misty and
tripping, and the gray sky, just over
the brick block across the street, could
acarcely be seen for the fog and the
rain. 1t was so doleful there with Mrs.
Sturdevant, who scarcely ever spoke a
word, except a monosyllabic yes OF
mo in answer to Mina's questions.
So when the little Office boy came up
with the copy, Nina thanked him glad
ly and kept him prattling at her case
antil the angry whistle of the foreman
at the tube sent him rafting down the
rickety staircase. Then Nina turned
to begin her task. First she set her
composing stick with a piece of brass
rule, so TO be sure that it was the exact
width of the column, and then she
mounted her stool and took up the first
letter of the title of the story, "a
Hopeless Quest" That was good
something to wake her up. A smile
erept over the pretty lips. and she
rapidly finished the title and began to
work the story paragraph by paragraph,
enjoying every sentence as she repeat
ed it in the clicking type. 1t was a
strange story. too, and fascinating.
Nina gradually lost herself in the
thread OF it, and once or twice she
reused with a start to find that she was
reading faster than she ought, and had
left a bad out to be corrected in
proof.
The story was about a young man,
who, after having wooed and won sew
eral charming but heartless bellies, and
having, fortunately, learned his own
leart before it was too late to break off
his engagements. how at last he made
I VOW that he would not rest until he
had found the ideal of his heart-a
noble. self-sacrificing, pure, loving,
lovely, and unassuming girl; lone who
could look a man in the eye without
roolly specializing upon his marriage
ability. and who could accept his adj
dresses, if agreeable, without scheming
how to have a loophole of escape in
case his financial prospects should not
prove altogether satisfactory The
story described tie wanderings of the
young idealist; his lingering in public
places; the faces that he knew, and was
attracted by, and what they turned out
to cover. Once or twice his quest
seemed on the point of being brought
to a successful close, but always some
thing was found to be lacking, and the
object of his growing love faded away
In the ever-deepening mist of distrust
and despair, until at last the story clos
ed with a passionate declarations: 1T
IS vaini All women are false and fair
and tickle. [ will turn to the friend
ship of a true-hearted man, and there
seek the tenderness and ~helpfulness
which l had hoped to find in ~lovelier
form"
1t was drawing toward dusk when
Nina finished the story, dropped in the
last period, and closed the line. She
laid down her composing stick, and sat
looking thoughtfully out upon the gath
sring shadows and the drifting rain.
Her life, too, had been so far, almost a
..hopeless quest" but oh! of how differ
ent a kind! Left early in life, by the
death of a dissolute and spendthrift
father to support herself and ar invalid
mother by her unaided efforts, she had
never known anything beyond the dull
round of daily toll. Of the romance of
,outh, the sunny freedom, the hours of
dream-life and of pleasure, she was
sadly ignorant. And yet her nature was
rich in aspiration. She felt that she was
destined for better things. There was
a longing within her which would not
be stilled. Oh, for some respite, some
change from this dreary struggle for
daily bread! Her whole soul rose up in
passionate yearning as she sat there in
the early dusk and looked out upon the
~rain-beaten streets and her W gloomy
future.