The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1889-02-20

WIFI inc hruOf OF possession, anu Jno
bookseller generally bent with age and
with the appearance of scholar) would
eye me with suspicion. But after many
visits (my poverty never allowed me to
| purchase), the proprietors learned to
look upon me as q harmless bibliomaniac;
often in the throes of ecstasy over some
treasure, would pour out my learning
in riotous wealth of language, causing
their wonder and their admiration. 1t
was thus obtained the privileges of the
many shops in B.
1t was while making my rounds one
morning, that picked up small vol
ume which appeared familiar to me. l
knew its shape, its color and its Hry,
for had not myself parted with y
after profound misgivings2 l d
it, and there in my familiar charaD .-rs,
was the inscription that l had placed
there years before:
To MI S MARY HEATHCoTE,
From her Friend, Milton Cope,
1t was rare edition of the songs of
George Herbert, and l had underscored
the lines
Only sweet and virtuous soul,
Like seasonal timber, never gives;
But though the whole world turn to coal,
Then chiefly lives"
o faithless womankind I recalled
those melting eyes, those trembling
hands, and called myself a fool for
treasuring a memory of the inconstant
one. ! went over with much force all
| the poetical anathemas which, from the
| beginning of time, have been hurled at
woman. No doubt she had sold my gift
and it had strayed hither, to make food
/ TNr tba ,nfaaltn,. - ~
tude. | questioned the bookseller, but
he knew nothing. was too poor to pur.
chase the volume, but begged him to put
it aside until could claim it.
1t was now five years since | left the
town of D.. ! remembered that | had
never written home, for had a romantic
notion that l would be famous within
six months after my departure. / in
tended to announce myself to my parents
and to Mary with flourish OF trGmpets
filling the one with remorse, and the
other with pride. Then, after tears and
reconciliation, l would be king of home
and love, and -
That volume upset me. 1t made me
angry, it made me sa |. l had begun an
article on Biblolatry, but could not
finish it. In the midst OF brown study
hShlN q MUM db tiOOls AOllONCd ny
the curt announcement: "a lady to see
YOU" The statement staggered me; it
almost induced fit of laughter. For
had had with wOmankind was tho
monthly meeting with my landlady. But
before l could control my astonishment,
bering the book, greeted her with but
] ,,,yN 20 IA nh 10 ha 81,
of her go Milton !" bewildered me.
| was more than troubled. AS ] gazed
upon her l could not believe she would
practice deceit. She was taller, fairer,
aud more beautiful than when left her,
with a sweet, angelic look which sti lied
the rebellious words upon my tongue.
gradually learned that my father was
very i'll at D., that, he expressing an
earnest desire to see me, my presence had
been advertised for. That, obtaining nc
information, Mary, prompted by love,
and thinking that because of the mar.
rowness of my purse, had sought the
nearest large city, b, started out
bravely in search of me, with but few
dollars to aid her, and my treasured vol
ume of songs to console her. Seeing heI
money fade away, and yet hopeful oil
meeting me, she reluctantly parted with
my offering.
At this l started up and embraced my
darling. How / cursed myself for my
doubts How l blamed myself for
que ,tioning one of the purest, noblest
spirits that ever lived l dried her tears
' it'll kisses, and told her how unworthy
o. her | was.
Mary then proceeded to relate how she
4 l..
lover of books, she naturally inquired
about me at the stalls. Before had sue
ceeded in getting some literary work to
do, it seems that had left my address
at one of the booksellers in case he at
up in folios and hy-leaves.
And so with new JOY in my heart, and
accompanied by Mary, | bade goodbye
to my landlady, who really seemed sorry
to part with me. | approached the home
| had not seen in five years with tumult-
uous spirit. Remorse tinged my feelings,
and when, shortly after, my father died,
my sorrow knew no bounds.
To-day the only bookstore in the
thriving town of D. is mine. Mary
is at my side and she has imbibed some
of that insidious bibliomania which
makes books the be'all and the end all.
Every now and then, in reminiscent
mood we take out of its secluded nook
dainty volume upon whose 6y-leaf Is
the inscription;
To Miss MARY HEATHCoTE,
From her Friend, Milton Cope.
| went to B and purchased it i'm
mediately after my fathers funeral. -
Nel0 lOr5 Journalist.