The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1888-02-10
pile his first effort II ran in this way,

pile his first effort 1t ran in this way.
kaow, dear maid, thou art fair TO see,
Aud as sweet as the 1ow'rs OF June;
And never vert thou so fair to me
As Tonight, meath the tickle moon
Yet, maid OF the beaming, lustrOus eye,
Who sayest thou lowest me true,
Ny own love for thee tonight must die;
For I can not believe thee. Adieu.
Il think reflected the young man
ruthlessly, '.that that will convince
Miss Marion Of theeruelty she has been
guilty Of =" He affixed his initials to
it and in thirty minutes more had pro-
duced the poetical rarity destined for
Iillie. 1t was rs follows:
Sweetheart of mine, my soul is thine
My heart. my life my all;
When thy bright eyes upon me shine
The skies above might fall;
For naught see, or hear. or know
Save that my lot is bliss
and, sweetheart, have loved thee 50
Since first knew thy kiss.
With a hand that trembled a little in
spite of him he folded the two sheets,
addressed the envelopes and stamped
them. Then, before his resolution had
time to cool, he ran down stairs, let
himself out at the front door and fairly
flew to the post-of1ice. The morning
was just breaking as he dropped the
two envelopes into the little slit in the
window that served as a letter-drop.
Then he walked slowly back to the
house.
As he disrobcd, the splendid por-
trait of Marion that stood on his mirror
seemed to gaze reproachfully at him.
and in two minutes the reaction came.
All his honest love for the disdainful
beauty came over him like food, and
he would have given ten years of his
life to have had those two letters back
in his hand that moment. Marion
would never forgive him. He was sure
of it.
Not a wink of sleep came to his eyes
as he lay devising thousand plans to
recover those foolish valentines. He
might 90 to the post-office and ask for
them but was sure the cross-eyed old
curmudgeon who ran the office would
not give them up; and evenif he would,
that would seem too ridiculous.
Ali An inspiration He would call on
Marion early, before she could receive
the valentine, beg her not to open it
and implore her forgiveness for his
churlishness of the night before. Yes,
that would do. 1t was now six o clock.
At eight he would 90.
How interminable those two hours
seemed! But they did end at last, and
he strobe forth once again, his face
very pale in the gloom of the February
morning A walk of ten minutes
brought him to Marions house. Had
she arisen yet, he asked of the trim
maid who opened the door. She did
not know but would see, if he would
kindly step inside and wait.
Another eternity of suspense. But
that, too, ended, and Marion came trip
ping down the stairs as radiant as a
peony, and-hOrror of horrors!-hOld-
ing in her outstretched hand his yalen-
tine-opened! The trim little maid
had been to the post-office an hour ago
and had brought it to her to read in
bed, together with ny-others.
Philip gasped and grew very white.
Would she order him from her pres
enceP No. she did not do that she
fstood there blushing dehciously and
casting affectionate glances first upon
him and then upon the fatal valentine.
What could it mean?
Philip, DEAR she said. advancing
a step, .'this is the sweetest valentine
evei. had in my life, and you are
Philip choked down a sob and almost
snatehed the fimsy sheet from her hand,
as he did so his eye fell upon the writ
ing and his brain reeled; 10 9Uas Udlen-
tine No. 2, the one he had meant for IFttie
Like flash it came upon him thai
he had placed them in the wrong en-
velopes-no. the right ones, by al
chat was lucky.