The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1890-12-19

If you'd just put a bit of post-Yha,
do you call it?" he said, coloring like a
schoolgirl.
Postscript" I suggested. Certain.
ly."
TELL mother" he said, as took UP
my pen again, that l wish she'd re-
member memo. not that word-give
my love toto my little girl out there
| if she-isn't married" He jerked out
these words. and turned his flushed face
away from me.
My heart beat painfully. Was this to
be the realization of my presentiment?
l could scarcely trace the words of this
cruel postscript, for my hand trem bled
| violently. l tried to move the pen me-
chanically, as would strike the keys
of the dumb typewriter, but the words
were scarcely legible. He took the lat
ter again, and pored over the last lines.
He seemed puzzled. He held it in diff
ferent positions, and finally said:
81 can just make it out 1t doesn't
look pretty, like the other part of the
letter. 'Tisn't much better than my
left-handed scrawl," he laughed, look
ing up 'Oh! beg pardon, Miss he
exclaimed, as he looked into my panied
eyes 81 s'pose you're tired. Been
do very we'll, guess" He had seen
the black rings under my eyes-toil
marks-and tears in them, which would
not be repressed. G
snow Miss" he said, in gentle tones,
''if you'll direct it for me I'll be
obliged"
That voice, softened to this pitch, was
not unknown to me land yet Inerved my
self to direct that letter with his love
conveyed in it-by my hand, TOTO an
other. He had to repeat the request,
however, before 1 could rouse myself
He was looking compassionately at me
and holding the sealed letter toward me.
"Please direct it to Mrs. Jane Stan
ley, at Dayton, N. H." he said, slowly.
My hand that held the pen rose sud-
denly in the air like the arm of one first
stricken with the palsy. A sense of
dizziness seized me and 1 fell back
ward, but not far A strong arm held
me up. A glass of water revived me-
and / heard him say: "Poor child!
She's worn out"
"Are you John Stanley?' asked, as
he raised me to sitting posture.
''Of course I'm John Stanley" said
he, regarding me with surprise.
was shaking with the violence of an
ague and my face burned as though all
my hot blood had centered there as l
"a.
Something between a groan and a
miners shout OF joy at the discovery of
rich lead" of silver escaped him as l
was unceremoniously gathered tightly
into the grizzly bearskin coat of this
terrible stranger. What If it were a
mistake? There might be other John
Stanleys. Oh, yes; there might be
other Annie Sinclairs who worked ten
hours day on typewriters. might
not be myself, and John might not.
my own little girl! To think I've
got you to write letter to mother and
to give my love to yourselfr' he ex-
claimed. And forgetful how tired /
was he Rugged me to his breast again
and again. 1t was like being squeezed
by a bear, / think. / made feeble
struggles to release myself, but could
not make this miner relinquish his
claim, which he had staked out ten
years ago. tried TO convince him that
he had forfeited this claim by neglect;
that it was long since outlawed by lapse
of time. L was no use to argue with
him at all. / think it was John who
first discovered the presence of my en-
ployer in the Office. He had witnessed
part of the wild scene. His countenance
was study. Surprise, amusement and
dfspleasure blended there.
Its all right, Mr.. -. This is my
little girl. l left her about ten years
ago. My claim is good yet"
Il must congratulate you upon your
good fortune, then" said Mr.. Brunsley,
taking his hand.
Il want to pay you, Annie, for writ
ing my letter" said John, turning to me.
81 am already paid" said, blushing.
turned my back on the hateful type
writer the following week and accom-
panied John home.-Edward A. Boyden,
in Shoe and Leather Reporter.
The best clause in child's life