The Warner sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1885-1???, 1886-09-24
THE REASON WHY.

John Harlow's existence could b,
blotted from his memory he coulC
Justly boast of q smooth and happy
life. No nan to-day, however, is hap
pier than he. Two things alone make
life dear to nina wife, one OF the
sweetest, dearest women that ever
drew breath; a remunerativelaw ellen.
tage, the result of many years of lard
work. Although not a very rich man
in the general acceptation ofthe word,
still he enjoys the benefits OF a good
yearly income, and everything that
tends to the happiness of mankind is
realized and appreciated by him. No
citizen of the city of It's held in
higher esteem. The three years in
his life he would hketo eface are these:
In the year 1856 John Harlow
started for San Francisco, Cal, on a
tour of recreation from a long course
of legal study. Nothing OF special
note occurred to relieve the tedious.
ness OF his journey; he arrived at his
destination much shattered and ia
tigued. Immediate rest was needed,
so he sought a clearinghouse in a
dull, quiet part of the city, and for
some days enjoyed the seclusion and
rest he stood so much in need OF. His
meals were brought to his room, and
therefore he had no opportunity to
make the acquaintance of his fellow
boarders. The house was run by q
matronly.looking woman named
Wentworth, whose only weakness
seemed to be her voluble tongue.
However, she atoned somewhat for
this in the excellent quality of her
menu, and, as this is the paramount
object sought for in a clearinghouse,
whatever foibles she possessed in the
eyes other tenants were graciously
overlooked.
Her daughter, a comely young girl
OF seventeen years, assisted her In the
household duties, and at evening
usually entertained the house with
pleasing music on the piano. One
evening as Harlow was enjoying a
fragrant Havana in his room, and
Eusing retrospectively over old scenes
and faces, the soft, plaintive strains
OF a delicate but musical voice seemed
20 emanate from the parlor below.
There was something in the tone OF
the voice that told him he had never
heard it there before. The air spoke
volumes of sadness, and breathed
such pathos and distress that he
turned involuntarily in his chair, ana
noticing in the mirror at the other
side OF his room what a change it had
wrought in his features he Jumped up
suddenly and was about to shut out
the voice from mis- hearing, when it
suddenly stopped. The music had
piqued his curiosity. He would know
the owner of the pathetic voice.
The chatting OF two women below
told him that some lady friend OF
Bertha's-Miss Wentworth's daugh-
ter-was probably paying her friend
ly visit. He dressed himself hastily
and repaired to the parlor, where, un-
der the pretext Of wishing to be called
early in the morning, he had an OPP
portunity ofspeaking to Bertha. She
seemed pleased to be OF service to him
and invited him in. The rubicon pass
ed, he was soon engaged in delectable
conversation with Cora Lane, TO whom
he had been introduced by Bertha.
Harlow had laughed at many tales
OF love at first sight. Alas, hon coon
his conception was exploded, for
before him sat the woman whom he
felt fate had destined him to love.
OF all fair faces he had eger seen hers
was the fairest. There was an air
OF melancholy suffusing the entire
features that seemed in keeping with
the sad blue eyes, the expression OF
which completely charmed him. Some
thing indefnable in her sweet, gentle
manner felt it's way deeply into his
breast and caused it to beat with
rapture. He could have eat for hours
and contemplated her lovely face, SO
great was his infatuation.
That night as he lay on his couch,
with the picture OF one fair face en-
crossing his every thought, he felt, he
knew, that Cora Lane was the only
woman ne would ever love. It was
late next morning when he arose, de-
spite the fact that Bertha had done
his bidding.
His first impulse was to rush to her
49, $3.50 MM m WM M