Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1890-12-18
''PLEAsE DIRECT 1T. -

if you'd just put bit of post-whar
do you call it?' he said, coloring like a
schoolgirl.
''Postscript?" I suggested. Certain
1y.''
TELL MOTHER he said. as took up
my pen again. ''that I wish she'd re-
member ne-no. 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 presen timent?
1 could scarcely trace the words of this
cruel postscript, for my hand trem bled
violently. l tried to move the pen me-
chanically, as 1 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 It 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
working too hard. I'm brute. It'll
do very we'll, 1 guess" He had seen
the black rings under my eyes-toil
marks-and tears in them, which would
not be repressed.
'.Now 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 nerved 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 could rouse myself
He was looking compassionately at me
and holding the sealed letter toward me.
"Please direct 1t 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 I fell back
ward, but not far. A strong arm held
me up. A glass of water revived me,
and 1 heard him say: Poor child!
She's worn OUT
care you John Stanley?" I asked. as
he raised me to sitting posture.
''Of course Pm 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
said: II am Annie Sinclair
Something between a groan and a
miners shout of joy at the discovery OF
| a rich lead" of silver escaped him as
| 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 ter
hours a day on typewriters. might
not be myself. and John might not.
my own little girl! To think I've
| got you to write a letter to mother and
to give my love to yourself!'' he ex-
claimed. And forgetful how tired
was he Rugged me to his breast again
| and again. It was like being squeezed
by a bear, 1 think. / made feeble
struggles to release myself, but could
not make this miner relinquish his
claim, which he had staked out ten
years ago. 1 tried TO convince him tina,
he had forfeited this claim by neglect;
that it was long since outlawed by lapse
of time. It was no use to argue with
him at all. I 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
displeasure blended there.
| Its all right, Mr.. -. This is my
little girl. left her about ten years
ago. My claim is good yet"
II must congratulate you upon your
4 g. r.
taking his hand
ST want to pay you. Annie, for writ
ing my letter, said John, turning to me
ST 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
Santa Claus -Detroit Free Press.