Wichita eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1886-1890, 1890-02-27
waiting viii be hard.

waiting VIII be hard.
| Forgive me, dear, that complaining
speech, but am so weak today-so weak"
! This letter came one day to a man sitting
in dingy office in far away western town.
| He was writing at his desk when the train
whistled that brought in the mail.
His face was thin and worn, but strangely
illuminated just now by some warm ray from
within He wrote rapidly, and often smiled
| as he dipped his pen in the ink. Once he
stopped and laughed TO himself low boyish
laugh.
| What happy message was his cunning hand
stamping on that smooth, white page'
| sob, Margaret, at last after SO many 7ears,
life has been good to me. Ny Canfornia
scheme has proved success, and today am
rich man!
"Do you hear, sweetheart, rich man and
do you know all that means to me if you still
love mea
cIf you still love mer Why should I
fear-did ever woman have truer heart than
thineD 1t means the end of waiting-the
fruition of hope-the open sesame to the
long barred doors of joy!
sit means freedom-freedom to the loving
words, imprisoned so long in the dark cham
| bers of silence, with honor, stern sentinel.
ever keeping guard!
Can you forgive all these years of seem
ing neglect. God and 1 know it was only
seeming-and may come now-come at last
to my home, my kindred, my inheritance of
love-to you?
! II know l do not deserve it, but when God
| forgets and blesses US beyond our worth, will
not yous
| do you remember the first evening met
| you? You had on some sort of white gauzy
dress, and | thought you would never be
fairer even in heaven.
Your yellow hair bad such pretty way
of waving up from the nape of the neck, and
| there was always one lock that would fall
down and curl in soft little ring.
"Have you forgotten how surprised I was
| to find your eyes were browne Such shy
! eyes they WERE ! never saw them well but
once.
| 'Now will gaze into them until I learn
every tone and tint by heart-Until l catch
and hold fast the lovely soul mirrcred there
and make its every throb my own.
Twill you smile when you meet me'
81 dream and dream of the look your face
will wear.
mot cold. no: it will never be cold;
but what if I should find tears on your cheek
tears that l had caused?
I'm the dust, at Your feet, dear Margaret,
would plead forgiveness, and then kiss and
Kiss them away until the very source of tears
were dry. All, WE'LL What does it matter if
| the sweet face meet me grave or gay, so I
| but see it in the flesh, alive and warml
| And yet, even were you dead what made
| me think of that0 l believe that love like
| mine could call back the red of life to lips
| century cold, and rekindle into fame the
| very ashes of the divine fire! When see
you sons
The door opened and the Office boy handed
in the evening mail.
| 1t was o'clock. He glanced over two of
the letters, which proved to be business notes,
and then picked up the third, little fretted
at the interruption. IL was small, white
envelope with a blurred postmark, addressed
! in a strange feminine hand
Lighting the lamp-the dusk of the June
night was gathering outside--he laid paper
weight on his unfinished page and, slightly
curious, broke the seal.
1t took him a long time to master the faint.
illegible lines (her trembling fingers had tried
in vain to make the strokes steady, but the
few words of explanation, added by her
mother, made it all cruelty plain; so plain
| that it was but breath before Hope shifted
places with Despair, and grosu, such as we
hear when spirit parts from flesh, burst from
his grief smitten soul.
He laid his head on the table in front of
him, and morning, with its clamor and its
claims. found him there
The lamp burned wan and dim, and the
| jaunty summer sun sent its boldly challenging
| rays, as if to say, What do you heresn but
it was not until the gong sounded from the
hotel next door that Allan Kent raised him
self up, and then the radiant light of the
young day showed a face old and bleached
with pain, and hair turned white as the SHOWS
of Orizab a.-New Orleans Times-D Democrat