Fort Worth gazette. [volume] (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1891-1898, 1892-03-06
JACK AND FLOSS.

i
New York that Jack was well known, but
| throughout the Eastern states, for Jack
| was writer OF unusual ability.
/ Like all writers of standing he made his
way from-the bottom. first met him 1C
| yaars ago, when I struck New York, look.
| ing for position as a reporter. was &
green country lad then, and the fact that
came from within dozen miles of his
birthplace was sufficient reason with Jack
| why he should take me under his wing and
steer me clear of the pitfalls awaiting
| green reporters
At that time he was thirty-three years
of age. Apparently he was . hard
man to approach, and as matter
| of fact his upper crust was pretty
thick While frigid in the extreme
he was always courteous.
1t did not take me long after first meet
| ing him to make up my mind that Jack had
| a story in his life that was the cause Of his
being so stern, but It was two years before
I dared breach the subject, and then the
| look ne gave me prevented me from ever
after mentioning the matter
One night, a few weeks later-'twas
| Christmas eve-we were seated IN Jacks
room smoking Carolinas and talking about
our native country in Western New York.
Suddenly he turned to me with this re-
mark:
"You asked me, if you remember, why
rude to you then, and 1 am sorry. 1 know
that you are my best friend. am going to
}, 1u you my story. You will say when you
lsisnow all that l was wrong. admit it.
1T is perhaps a difficult matter for you
to understand how l could ever love, but a
few years ago l was the happiest fellow in
all old Chautauqua loved q girl who was
the most winsome, innocent maiden 1 ever
met. Born of refinement, by the force of
circumstances she was brought up on
farm on the crest of the green Chautauqua
hills.
There was nothing in common between
her and the rough country boys and girls.
Indeed, she was like pure lily, growing
among coarse sunhowers. This led to her
retiring within herself, and to me was the
great boon of unfolding the petals that hid
this lovely character met her and loved
her, and l had her perfect confidence and
later her love.
For months scarcely a day passed that
did not find me by her side, strolling
through the woods or floating upon the
smooth waters of the lake All was happy
girl, came to visit her. II Floss was beau
tiful in her way, the Southern beauty was
lovely in hers. Why, do not know.
Il bscame for the moment infatuated,
and Floss. learning of my seeming false
ness, lost faith in me; in the meantime
Hdu coLue 10 New 1Orh. anu Ine uenoue-
ment came while here. This letter, a copy
OF which I sent to Floss two days before
Christmas eight years ago, will tell you the
rest OF the story, and here is her answer,
received on Christmas eve"
Jacks letter was as follows:
"FLoss: write you tonight; you may
wonder why. The answer I might give is
and SO do 1. But no wonderment testirs
me for the reason know, and the reply, if
it came, would then to you show the
thoughts that, though buried and prisoned
from sight, are living and throbbing with
dynamic might.
81 might tell you the story, but tits a
story once told, and now lies in ashes in a
grave deep and cold; but caskets have been
finished, and graves have been made, i1z
which full of life the living were laid.
One summer they tell me, tits now long
ago, the skies were all bright, and the sun
shine below awoke into life new being.
''This from its fold one day strayed
away, dancing and romping in innocent
play At last with the thought, to return
at all cost, the pathway was sought, but
twas gone and all lost.
ITO talk over the past is, Of all things, |
most unpleasant to me. But Floss, l have |
fingered too long, and now-I cannot put |
it of longer. I have made up my mind to |
do to night what l should have done long |
you the motives that led my |
course of action away from the pathway 1 |
should have followed. This is not written |
please do not misunderstood me-with |
any idea that I can change what has been or
win you back. For know that another is |
now much more to you than any one else |
can be, much less I. My reasoning may |
sound cold to you, but it but reflects the i
hardness Of character that has become
second nature, a character which 1 have
and which but one thing could |
soften, and that is denied me-
First however, will recall the days of
the past. met you, Floss, and Loved you.
You combined in your character all the at
tributes of nobleness and true womanhood
with the artlessness of a child, and were
not branded with that terrible reality-the
world. No, the deceit of this life of vice !
md sin were unknown to you. l loved you.
Many days were we together, either ram
bling among the groves around your coun-
iry home or driving about the country
'oads. Our love was of the ideal character;
did not even kiss you, so great was my
for you. And you told me in
words and looks that you returned my re-
gard.
'You placed all your trust in me. Then 1
net Olive. In a few weeks you trustingly
evealed to me what you thought to be her
entiments toward me. l thought from the
tudy of her nature, which was passionate
nd impulsive, that once given possession
Il desired OBJECT, she would discard the
oy. l sought to cure her by making her
'elieve that cared for her. Whether my
ctions were right or wrong, the motive
vas good.
'But played with fire and was burned.
became infatuated with Olive, but the
cal feeling within babe me retain you, and
o l deceived you. This intimacy with
olive was stimulated by the fact that was
eparated from you by reason of our agree
lent made that night when l left you the
ist time but one, the understanding being
hat was not to see you for year. That
light, how wildly it now comes to me. You
anne in the carriage and stood on the step.
kissed you then, and, Floss, when left
on l was all but heart-broken.
"Pshaw-why talk in this strain. 1 was
Teak, desDicable. went to Chicago, and
rom there correspondent with Olive. Thu
Ontest that was going on within me was
Omething terrible. Then 1 knew that
wed only you, and wrote TO, you. Up to
lis time you did not know of my decep-
on. Your answer came. You wrote say
I g you were too young, and that we should
e but the best of friends until you mora
lily knew your own mind. l was not sat-
SIZED with this, and made up my mind that I
le only course for me to pursue was to pre- r
emit Olive being rendered unhappy, because
)utrary to my iuddment, she had not
,oled as yet, so continued the deception.
81 visited the town where she lived MY
ear was not up, and pride kept me from
rowing to you how glad was to see Won.
Re time knowing you were there. Then n,