The Anaconda standard. [volume] (Anaconda, Mont.) 1889-1970, 1890-06-01

1t certainly seemed prcsumptuous,
idiocy-anything you wish to call ito
fall in love with my little bird of song, my
little contributor, Eunice Mayne, the
beautiful, graceful, refined daughter OF
Col. Bristol Wayne, extensive land owner
near the sleepy little village fl. iet
I did love her-I, the editor and publisher
OF the Weekly C~Uaosue-l, the poor
scribbler struggling to live upon a pit
lance of six hundred a year lit did not ex-
iced that, so many subscriptions were
paid in onions, turnips, cabbage, potatoes
and what not, which / afterward gave the
poor widow a few doors away)
l had reason, perhaps, to believe she
also loved me, for she never mailed her
manuscript, always bearing il directly to
my office, her clever bit OF versifcation
or prose, declaring II written expressly
for the Cynosnre. Then she would smile
so sweetly and in such a bewitching man.
ner, leaving no shadow OF q doubt in my
mind that she loved me. When she left
| would sigh SO deeply and pound my
worn out slippers SO hard upon the table
that the ''devil" and ~''jour" rushed in to
Office cat, had Inadvertently leaped into
the ink keg TO catch a frightened, hungry
mouse.
Miss Wayne signed the manuscripts
with the nom de plume "Portia,"
often wondered why she had selected this
row and repining had fallen. "Surely,",
said / TO myself, sin me she will not find
a Brutus as did the Portia OF old"
One day while i was out 'rustling the
wherewith" to pay for my last bundle of
'.ready prints my Portia brought a SON.
net, a delightful little sonnet, / felt sure
was addressed to me. l read il over sew
eral times, my heart beating rapidly at
each successive perusal OF the poem, the
first four lines of which | will here give
and also the state of my feeling at the
time:
''wlien autumn comes. and withered and serc
see ihy light blue eyes therein aglow
With fiery love IA love that mine, l know; -,
Yet thou art cold, and thy poor Portia g%rieves!'
fear she borrowed a portion of the first
line from poor Poe, but what care / for
the plagiarism! Let Poe lock up his
rhymes IL he didn't want them stolen.
The next two inc throw me into
~ecstacies so prolonged that the devil
stole out the back door for half a pint TO
bring me the Jour- TOO, as
/ discovered later:
II see the light blue eyes therein agiow.
With iery loye-a love that's mine, ! known
All! she even saw my eyes in the with
cred leaves! But l didn't quite like that
way of putting 1t: some readers might
liken the leaves TO m face, which l must
acknowledge was not in "the bloom of
YOUTH OF course my Portia had not in.
tended such a simile, yet the inference
might be drawn, and I'm order to prevent
il used the editorial prerogative conferred
in me from hairless crown to heelless
sock and altered the line to read: AT
every turn l see thy eyes aglow," and felt
that my idol. my Portia, meant it that
way. And she knew my love was hers
"Her ownest own," yea and no female on
Gods footstooln could wrest II from her
Then | proceeded To the next ine: "Yet
grieves." Great Scott! she thought ma
cold! while i'm reality ! was drowned
in perspiration just then, little riv-
ulets tracing their way down my neck and
whiting my choker and bosom 'front.'. My
Office door stood open, but / wanted a
breeze. Rushing to the back door / flung
IL open wide i'm my frenzy, letting in q
soothing breeze, which sent the Jour-
who always followed copy" over 10 the
saloon across the street in hot chase after
a "take" of rehashed editorial on 1.-THE
He'll Holes Of Intempeerance." II took
him a long while to find II.
And TO think ms Portia-my sweet little
bird of song-was grieving! when the
"fiery love- she seemed to long Tor could
he had for the asking. could read nc
more. l had read enough TO satisfy IN,
mind that the tender little sonnet was no
NlittSh " "hc @tt
solely for my eyes; the light blue eyes sht
saw in the withcred leaves n from
whence l had rescued them. OF course
the latter ~precaution was unnecessary.
Folding the manuscript carefully
kissed ii two or three times, during which
sacred act of oscillation / was rudely i'm
terrupted by the "devil' poking in hi
head. announcing that the '.jour'' wa
across the street, "fuller'n q tick" 18th,
devil 90 with himt" l exclaimed, nercely
and the "deviIr went. Placing the son
net and the dainty little note accompany
ing il in the inside pocket of my vest.
took up an unfinished article on 9TH
Evil Effects of Anger" and rapidly com
pleted IT,, and once more rave wa 4
dreams OF love; love for my sweet Portia
my idol of worship.
How long i sat entranced / cannot tell
an unexpected interruption coming il
shape Of the '~.jour,"' who ''pied" tw'
ing place. l noticed q paper pinne'
on his coat collar. which / angrily tor
off, recognizing the head to my arr
Gle, "The He'll Holes Of Intemperance,
coaxed him to GO 20 his boarding place
but he would not bulge an inch from hi
position-a scat upon the ink keg. TIL
devil however, succeeded i'm inducin
him TO lie under the frame near by, an
Just in the nick Of time. Returning to th
Office | beheld. Just entering, my Portii
shade Of Parnassus," l inwardly e,
claimed, "she-here-Dow!m But aloud
said:
"Ah, Miss Mayne. delighted to see you
placing the editorial chair at her disposa
"How well she fills it, | thought. met;
phorically speaking. OF course.