Lyon County times. [volume] (Silver City, Nev.) 1874-1907, 1888-08-25
BY CHARLES ]. BELLAMY.
C4pyrighted by the Author, and published
by arrangement with him.

girl If he could treat the whole wretched
business like a huge joke, what the deuce
was the use OF her playing tragedy queen over
itg What child's play life's solemnest woes
and failures are after all a mans dread of
them 1t is mixing up flesh and blood with
them spoils their grand effects. Men and
women are only fit for the cheapest kind of
low comedy How it must amuse the i'm
mortal gallery gods when a man attempts to
sustain the tragedy pitch in his experiences!
If one can only get the true point of view,
there is no such thing as a noble situation, a
glorious victory or a desperate dilemma The
dignity of sorrow is ridiculous misnomer.
Everything is only more or less funny ac-
cording to its pretentiousness-for example,
the astonishing denouement of his love epi-
sode
Now Norah, the chambermaid, with face
like pumpkin and eyes like saucers, was a
suitable lay figure for such an occasion.
'Why, here Norah, this is really a very
good diamond | bought it for the best per-
init me to present it to you. Bertha, your
late mistress, mean, was large woman; no
doubt you can wear it over your little finger.
Consider it as a reminder of this charming
evening. All, set me put it on, you are not
used to jewels-thus. Now, my love, you
may run down stairs and show your pretty
present"
He turned his strangely bright eyes to the
wall at the foot of Berthas bed.
''My picture, too. How the girls heart
must have glowed night and morning over
it." He took it down and held it before him
moment.
ga foolish face" he muttered between his
teeth, the wild merriment fading out of his
features He bent and laid the picture glass
upward on the floor, then he ground it
viciously beneath the heel of his boot, and
walked away without deigning to cast an
other look at it.
Berthas pure bed, which her graceful form
had pressed so many years-an inscrutable
awe crept over him; it seemed impious to
look; he fell on his knees and buried his hot
face in the pillow where he fancied her head
had rested.
ooh, my lost darling, my lost Bertha, you
have taken all the joy and hope Of my life
with YOU" and his slight frame shook with
fearless sobs, like the death throes of break
ing heart.
Then he rose in bitterness of soul to his
feet Was there no way to drown the deep
settled pain about his breast? Were there no
other women in the world2 He had heard
times enough there was no salve for broken
heart so quick and sure as another woman's
kisses
He almost stumbled over Jane Graves,
who lay across the Threshold in dead
faint 1t was but the work of a moment to
bend over her and lift her in his arms. But
he would not let her lie on Bertha's bed; no,
not to save her life; and he bore her through
the hall to another chamber. 1t was slight
girlish form he held, and need not have been
SO unpleasant burden. But he laid her
down on the first resting place he could find,
and lifted her feet with delicate gentleness
on the bed He removed the high pillows
from under her head, so that she could
breathe more easily, and, true gentleman
that he was covered her pretty feet and
ankles with some light wrap