Lawrence democrat. (Lawrenceburg, Tenn.) 1884-1925, 1891-11-06

poor enough, perhaps, but It was
chance he had long since decided to
take, and delayed-because unspoken
love is sweet.
He did not find her. Nobody found
her, but her trunk and typewriter went
away by that evenings boat
A year later John Allen was again
off for his vacation, but he carefully
avoided Nantucket He went to the
mountains, there to rest and to try to
forget" He was graver and sterner
than he had been year before; ap-
parently he needed rest more badly.
He was determined to put his 'Sconset
romance forever out of mind Men
lived without lung and did much
good work, too; why shouldn't he try
the experiment of living minus heart,
yet accomplishing fine things? OF
course there was no why.
On the evening when he arrived at
the hotel where he intended to recre-
ate, he noticed the servants "Ah! this
is one of those houses where college
students are mattresses and walters.
I'll look into it and see if it won't make
a column for the Sunday edition. That
is, if can manage to put the thing in
new light"
A guest sitting near him called:
"Maggie?"
Allen started. 1t was foolish habit
he had acquired during the past year;
when any change rung upon the name
of Margaret it reused his interest. But
he did not look around. He mantally
slapped the vacuum which his lost
heart had left and went on eating flap.
jacks; for which he should not be
blamed. White mountain fap-j acks
are famous.
maggie, another plate of them
please. About twenty-four. 1 never
ate such pancakes" said the other
diner.
Neither had John Allen. But TWEEN.
ty-four! That order would give real
istic flavor to the prospective column
and the journalist looked up. Though
he didn't see the hungry guest. He
saw, instead, little figure in prin
gown and white apron, moving away
down the dining-room with an alert
briskness native to only two people OF
this planet mother" and mothers
daughter. He rushed after the figure
and caught it before it vanished kitchen
wards. The student-waitresses stared
comprehended and looked away.
Aliens hand fell on Margaret
shoulder with such an eager clutcl
that she screamed and dropped the
plate she was carrying. Then sh
turned pale, but her assailant did no
allow her to faint. He tucked her arm
into his and marched her out Of tn,
house and down into the "Glen." Sh,
was forced to go or make a scene"
In the "Glen" he released her, o.
placed her on a rock and stood guarC
over her.
"Now, little girl, I've captured you
Therel be no more time lost. Meg
Margaret-Maggie, will you MARI,
me?"
mo, SIR"
"Why not?"
Ell don't-once was Iiterar,
woman You told me that you didn'
like that kind"
81 don't. But you were never liter
ary."
II was. ] wrote book"
eyes. The "Sconset Romance Well
l punished you for that. mo matter
You'll never write another"
81 will if I like"
"You won't like"
"Pooh! Humph!"
'How did you happen to start o.
such distressing career?"
sob, l could always write wante
money"
81 thought so. You had no specis
hankering for fame?"
"Bosh! for fame. never thought c
fame, even in my 'authoress' days.
had to do something to help, and tha
came easiest"
"Revenons nos moutons. Maggi
Margaret Meg, will you marry me9
"Why?"
81 love. you. For your retaliation
For my expiation. 1t was who kille
your book-when l reviewed it in tn
Clarion"
"You-you mean thing! 1t nearl
killed me, too"
Criticism doesn't kill people. If
did l shouldn't be here to ask you tn
third time to marry me. I know II
in literature myself"
"You? Oh, Johnw
After awhile, between kisses, h
paused to say; "But I am-literar,
, and-realistic The genuine 'Sconst
romance beats the sham one by Ion
shot believe I'll write it up"
But he didn't.
I did.-Evelyn Raymond, in Leslie
Weekly