Iuka reporter. (Iuka, Miss.) 1888-1894, 1889-01-17

We parted at her uncle's withl ( an
other word, and l went homen the
heart that 1 knew woul suffer
with me, but whose tender sympathy |
would uphold me in this hour of bitter
trial.
The next day / sent off my resignation
to Washington, Tor my mother and /
agreed to leave the village where we had
passed so many quiet years. 1t was in
the afternoon of the same day that the
letter of which had spoken, that now
knew was for my rival. attracted my at
tention. took it up reluctantly felt
] would as I, adily have touched poi
sonous snake-and was Just about to put
the postmark on when l saw that the
stamp upon it, instead Of being postal
one, was revenue stamp, and that the
letter, instead of speeding off on wings
of love to New York, must be consigned
to the dead letter Office in Washington.
With thrill of savage delight flung it
into the box appropriated to the recep-
ton OF such castaways and went ON with
my evenings work. With that work l
went on mechanically, but my thoughts
were not agreeably employed. That
then was the answer to the missive viii h
she had received But it should be long
before he would get it-get it too late
perhaps for an explanation; for misun-
derstandings between lovers had often
arisen from a slighter cause than the
non-arrival of an expected letter.
pictured him waiting and longing for
the letter that would not come, and she.
poor girl, how her tender heart would
be tortured by his imagined neglect
when no answer would be forthcoming.
| She, 1 knew. would sutferin silence, and
l fondly hoped that he would do the
same. SO | locked the mail bag and
waited for the messenger to carry it to
the station. The express would pass in
an hour and half. And then strug-
! gle began in my heart. The miss stamped
letter seemed to look reproachfully at
me from the box into which had thrown
it, and seemed to whisper to me that one
little act of mine could send it unim-
pede on its mission.
No one, believe, unless he was in
my situation, actuated by the same de-
spairing, selfishly hopeful feelings that
were overmastering me, could under
stand what a base impulse conquered
when at last, after an hours temptation,
took that letter from it's resting place,
/ substituted postage stamp for the rev
enue one, opened the mail bag and let il
| go. Then after it was done some hot
| tears rushed to my eyes. 1t was my last
hope. and l could not help INDUCING
some weakness over it's grave.
| The next mail from New York arrived
three day after. l had the poor salts
faction of seeing the results of my good
action in a letter in the handwriting of
my rival, addressed to Annie, making its
unwished for appearance, as L knew it
would, and shortly after Dr. Merrill
took it away with him as be called for
his mail. Loungers came in and out of
the office and went away finding me little
disposed for conversation. Nothing yet
was known in the village of my requisi-
ton, so l was spared the pain of listen
ing to congratulations that l was in no
mood to hear. When 1 went home that
evening l was surprised to find my
mother absent, and still more surprised
when on opening note she had left for
me, learned that she was with Annie
at DR.. Merrills, and that I AS to fol-
low her there. Hopeless as I felt, the
prospects of seeing Annie again promised
me only a painful pleasure, but still the
thought of being near her had sweet
and sad fascination that / could not re-
sist. When l reached the doctors I
found himself and my mother seated in
his office. SO intent on the moves of q
knights gambit, that mere nod on my
entrance showed their consciousness of
my arrival. Annie was not there; I
found her in the parlor standing upon
the hearth rug, the glow Of the freight