Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1888-02-03

ter1lu0 OeatU WAS WAas VIC AhA6us
call poetic justice. in one sense, Bertha.
It enabled Aunt Max to take the chil-
dren, with no fear that any one would
think she did it to bring him back to
her. She is poor, and is obliged to
work hard for their support, but caring
for them has been such q comfort to
her"
"Poor mamma told me once that
aunt had never been the same since
she read his name among the killed
in that terrible disaster.
aHow she must have loved himl she
is not quite forty, and her hair is white
as snow. Dear Aunt Max ] wonder if
she knows how near = saint she is.
What pathetic story her life would
make"
aWhy don't you write il. Bertie2 y
am sure You could.
aNot L I'd do anything to help. or
please you, Nab. but I can't do that. /
couldn't write the unreal romances Of
the day, besides, I think it is downright
wicked. should write the bare facts,
the naked truth; my stories would be
Just as il is in real life, and they
wouldn't end we'll. No editor would
accept them. "a bird in the hand is
worth two in the bush, even if the one
in hand be only . bit Of embroidery,
very poorly paid for. Besides. Mable,
your experience in that line is sufficient
to deter me.
II have never written prose, you
know, Bertie. Ny inclination does not
run in that groove. But Ishall give up
writing. I must till I get stronger. Il
must be that or the school, and I dare
not give up the school. I do hate to.
do 80 BERTHE, for it has been such q
comfort to me-"
aOh, Nab, it makes me just wild,
,uild to see you growing SO thin and
pale. have been so little help to you,
TOO. twill be better for you to rest
more; only for that I could not bear to
let you give it up, even for little
while. Il will not be for always, I
feel sure Of that. You have an invisible
demon that sits on your shoulder and
goads you on. "
Next morning when the girls met at
the breakfast-table it was BERTHE who
was hollow-eyed.
"Your light was out early last night,
Queen Mab," she said. II thought it
would Be. Your invisible demon
perched upon my chair last night and
tortured mel into wakefulness. This is
the result, /" and she laid roll Of manu-
script in her sisters lap.
II proved to be story, or sketch.
rather, bearing the title "Saint Max.
Mable felt her eyes grow wet as she.
read the truthful and pathetic lines
The old familiar places arose before
her mental vision, the eastern home
that they had loved so well, for BERTHE
had poured all her homesick soul into
those few paragraphs, describing the
quiet village where Gerald Harding
had first won the love of "Saint Max,
aWhy do You not address the editor
by name, BERTHE" asked Mabel, glanc-
ing at the envelope.
aIdon't know his name. I've never
seen copy Of the magazine he pub
fishes. Il doesn't matter, Nab, he will
not accept it. II is q true story, and
does not end WE'LL"
Nevertheless, before the week was
out she began to haunt the postoface.
She came back from one of these ex-
cursions, her face flushed, her whole
form trembling with excitement.
ooh, Mab!" she cried, throwing
check for one hundred dollars into her
sisters lap. tive seen him, that ed
itor, I mean; he came himself, right
away. You'd never guess who he isl He
said there was reward of one hundred
dollars offered some time ago for the
very information contained in the
sketch sent him. he doesn't want to
really print it because because Saint
Max is alive, and SO. is he. II is Ger
aid Harding himself: he wasn't killed
with the excursionists, and he didn't
know that his children were alive; he
had advertised for them and offered a
reward, but he could hear nothing, ex-
cept that two children, about the age
Of his, whose names could not be
learned, were killed in that collision.
He's real rich, too-for an editor-and
he's gone right over to see Aunt Max
now. Aren't You glad, Queen Nab? and
was there ever anything so strange in
the whole wide world? He's coming
here by and by to renew his acquaint-
ance with you Isn't il delightful?
You see he recognized Aunt Max
and all ofus from the sketch. and knew
at once that it must be true.
aAnd something has happened to us
just like story, hasn't it. ,Bertie?"
aWhy, to be sure! Queer, isn'tit I
hadn't thought of that at ALP"
HAD EXPEHXEk or.