The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1892-10-05

an ambition-two or three OF them,
Shall l tell you what they are, Alice?"
'If you can leave off fitting along like
will-o'- the-wisp, certainly" said Alice,
twining one arm around Lbby's slender
young waist.
well, you see," explained Libby,
lowering her voice to a confidential mys-
terry, although there were only the frost
frightened stars and the yellow rim of
light above the western woods to over
hear her communication, "Uncle Thomas
hasn't been very successful with his
farm of late, and as he has nine children
of his own, lie naturally feels as if were
burden to him. And he hints that
ought to be doing something for myself.
Now what can girl do for herself in
Succothville but go out to service or
enter the factory or take in plain sew
ing?"
"Not much else, must confess" said
Miss Markham.
"Well," pursued Libby, ST don't fancy
any of these three roads to livelihood.
So I've picked out three other paths for
myself. I've been studying up the
papers, Alice, and I've written love
story, in competition for the hundred
dollar prize offered by The Titusfeld
Literary Clarion.
Child, childl' cried Alice. "What do
you know about lover
.''As much as other girls, / fancy"
said giddy Libby. '"I've read about
Ophelia and Desdemona and Lucia di
Lammermoor and all those classic hero
ines, and of course one depends a good
deal on ones imagination. 1t wasn't a
bad story, know. Well, that's one road.
And I read the statement of the Woman's
Barter establishment in New York-how
they'll pay you for good cake or pre-
serves, or anything Of that sort, less a
trifing commissions / sent box Of
plum jam to them, a box that ought to
net me $40 at least"
'sThat's Number Two" smiled Alice
"Excuse me for saying that have more
faith in Number Two than in Number
One"
eve shall see," nodded Libby. "And
the third
Eyes," said Alice, encouragingly, 'the
third"-
81 answered an advertisement for q
wife," whispered Libby, hanging down
her pretty head. eyes, Alice, did.
You needn't start back in that tragical
manner. Other girls do it. Why shouldn't
II Such beautifully worded advertise
menti A widower, all alone In the
world, signing for sympathy and love
a widower of means, Aicer
Libby, you have done wrong" said
Alice, with a gravity that impressed her
young companion more than she would
have been willing to confess.
"Well, I've done it, and there's an end
of the matter!'' said Libby, with rebel
ious toss Of her head. $50 there's no
use in lecturing me. Uncle Tom shall
find out that I'm not entirely without
resources. A hundred dollars for the
story (besides all the fame it will bring
me, ALICE, $40 from the plum jam
and there, you see, is enough to buy
quite neat little trousseau for marrying
the widower. People don't launch out
with silk dresses and dozens of under
clothes as much as they did, and"-
Libby" urged Miss Markham, ''are
you really in earnesta"
Libby broke out into a little hysterical
laugh.
"Alice," said she, GIVE thought Of
nothing else and dreamed Of nothing else
for week. And it's strange-so strange
that never have received an answer to
any of the three communicationsr
Just then little Tommy, the youngest
hope of the house Of Morse, came trot-
ting across the scar meadows.
"Oh, look here, Libp said he. ''The
storekeeper he's found a lot o letters az
got hid away under the mealbags, where
they was sortin' the mail on Thursday.
They calculate as Pete, the puppy, done
it-he's chuck full Of mischief and tricks;
and the storekeeper he give me lemon
ball IL I'd take these to you. was lick
in the inside of the molasses keg with
Johnnie Piper and Sam Stokes under the
counter
Libby grasped the letters, and even
by that imperfect Light Alice could see
Cll0 SHOW dilQ CTlIuSOu CAaSlIlk C<1SaA VeAIC1
across her face.
They were already inside the little
gate, and Libby caught at her compan-
ions arm with nervous haste.
"Let us 80 upstairs to your room,
Alice" she whispered. "There is always
such swarm of children in the keeping
room, and one never can have moment
to ones self. Besides, there is only that
lamp in the house, and I can't read by
candle light"
Side by side, in the school teachers
apartment, by the light Of the Pickering,
strong scented kerosene lamp. Libby
and Alice opened the letters.
The first, whose envelope bore the
stamp of The Titusfeld Literary Clarion,
was brief enough. The editor regretted
that Miss Morse's manuscript had proved
unsuited to his columns, but would re-
turn it to her address on the receipt of
sufficient postage stamps to defray the
cost of transportation by mail.
''There's an end Of thati' cried Libby,
passionately, tearing the letter in two
and finging its fragments on the ground.
The second was an elegantly written