West Virginia argus. [volume] (Kingwood, W. Va.) 1877-1946, 1889-01-31


bookseller generally bent with age and
with the appearance OF scholar) would
eye me with suspicion. But after many
visits lmy poverty never allowed me TO
purchase), the proprietors learned 10
look upon me as harmless bibliomaniac;
oited Ia the throes of ecstasy over some
treasure, i would pour out nv learning
IN riotous wealth of language, causing
their wonder and their admiration. Ii
was thus obtained the privileges Of the
many chops in B.
IL was while making my rounds ono
morning, that l picked up a small vol
ume which appeared familiar to me.
knew its shape, its color and its history,
for had not myself parted with it only
after profound misgivingsi opened
it, and there in my familiar characters.
was the inscription that had placed
there years before:
To MI MARY HEArHCoTK,
From her Friend, Milton Cope,
IL was a rare edition Of tho songs of
George Herbert, and 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 womankindl I recalled
those melting eyes, those trembling
hands, and called myself fool for
treasuring Q 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 1t had strayed hither, TO make food
for the unfeeling eyes OF city multi
tude. Questioned the bookseller, but
he knew nothing. i was too poor TO pur.
chase the volume, but begged him to put
il aside until could claim it.
IL 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 n flourish OF trumpets,
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. II made me
angry, it made me sal. had begun an
article on. Bibliolatry, but could not
finish it. In the midst OF "a brown study
/ heard knock at my door, followed by
the curt announcement: "a lady to see
YOU" The statement staggered me; It
+
five long years the only intercourse l
had had with womankind was the
monthly meeting with my landlady. But
before i could control my astonishment,
in stepped Mary Heathcote, Remem-
bering the book, / greeted her with but
moderate warmth, while the effusiVeness
OF her 80 Milton!" bewildered me.
was more than troubled. AS ] gaZed
upon her could not believe she would
practice deceit. She was taller, faircr,
and more beautiful than when left her,
with sweet, angelic look which stilled
the rebelious 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 no
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 a few
dollars toad her, and my treasured vol
ume Of songs to console her. Seeing her
money fade away, and yet hopeful Of
meeting me, she reluctantly parted with
my offering.
At this started up and embraced my
darling. How / cursed myself for my
doubts How / blamed myself for
o'tioning one of the purest, noblest
spirits that ever lived / dried her tears
18th kisses, and told her how unworthy
OF her was.
Mary then proceeded to relate how she
found my address. Knowing me to be
lover of books, she naturally inquired
about me at the stalls. Before had sue
ceeded in getting some literary work to
do 10 seems that had left my address
at one OF the booksellers in case he at
any time should be in need Of one we'll
up ia folio3 and hy-leaves.
And so with new Joy in my heart, and
accompanied by Mary, bade good-by
to my Iandlsdy, 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 book store IN the
thriving town OF ID -- is mine. Mary
is at my side, aud she has imbibed some
OF that insidious bibliomania which
makes books the be all and the end ali
Every now and then, in reminiscent
mood, We take out OF its secluded nook
dainty volume upon whose fy leaf Is
the inscription:
To MISS MARY HKATHCoTR.
From her Friend. Milton Cope.
went to B and purchased Il i'm
mediately after my fathers funeral. 90
Neto IOrb Journalist.