The great West. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1889-18??, 1893-03-24

ssS B Il ~ 8 4 M
the PRINTER pays so much a tube for hfs
colors, so much an hour for his model,
but you
Il give you immortality. poor fy, /
give you amber" modestly suggested
the poet.
But Annette repeated the word .im-
mortality" with a scorn that almost
shook the poets cOnceit, and thereup-
on produced an account which ran as
follows:
Mr. Hyacinth Rondel.
DIR. to Miss Annette Jones,
For folcty of the following royalties.
Copies
Moonshine and Meadow
SWEET. 5OO
Coral and Bells. .... $50
Liber Amoris, three edi-
Forbidden Fruit, five,
EDITIONS. ......5,C COO
$3.50 at 1s-e462 los
Moiety Of same due to Miss Jones. 1921 IS
Il don't mind receipting it for f23O, .
she said as she handed it to him.
Hyacinth was completely awakened
by this. The joke was growing serious
SO he at once reused up the bully in
him and ordered her out Of his rooms.
But she smiled at his threats and still
held out her account. At last he tried
cOaXing. He even had the insOlence
to beg her, by the memory of their
past together, to spare him. He as
sured her that she had vastly overrated
his profits. that fame meant far more
cry than wool; that, in short, he was
up to his neck in difficulties as it was
and really had nothing like that sum in
his possession.
"Very well, Them she replied at
last, you must marry me instead,
Either the money or the marriage.
Personally, I prefer the money Ron
del's egoism twinged like a cortland
If you think you can escape me and do
neither. look at this!' and she drew a
revolver from her pocket.
They are all loaded" she added.
Nov which is it to be?'
Rondel made q movement as if to
snatch the weapon from her. but she
sprang back and pointed it at his head.
IF you move fire."
Now, one would not need to be a
minor poet to be coward under such
circumstances. ROndel could see that
Annette meant what she said. She
was clearly a desperate woman, with
no great passion for life 70 shoot him
and then herself would be little thing
In the present state of her feelings. He
was prudent man for poet-he hest
tated, leaning with closed fist upon the
table. She stood firm.
Come" said she at length. (which is
1t to be--the revolver, marriage or the
money? I give you five minutes
1t was 1856. The clock licked on,
while the two still stood in their alb
surd tragic attitudes-he still hesitating,
she, with her pistol in line with the
brain that laid the golden verse The
clock whirred before striking the hour.
Annette made a determined movement.
Hyacinth looked up. He saw she
meant it, all the more for the hooking
indifference of her expression.
"Once more-death, marriage or the
money!
The clock struck.
THE money" gasped the poet
But Annette still kept her weapon
in line
''Your check book" she said. Rondel
obeyed.
PAY Miss Annette Jones, or order,
the sum Of f23O. No, don't cross it!'
Rondel obeyed.
Nov toss it over to me- You OBJ
serve I still hold the pistol"
ROndel once more obeyed Then,
still keeping him under cover of the
ugly looking tube, she backed toward
the door
''Good-by.' she said. BE sure shall
look out for your next volume"
Rondel, bewildered as one who had
lived through fairy tale, sank into
his chair. Did such ridiculous things
happen? He turned to his check book.
Yes, there was the counterfeit, fresh
as new wound. from which indeed his
bank account was profusely bleeding
Then he turned to his laurels; but
behold they were all Withered.
So, after a while, he donned hat and
coat and went forth to seek flatterer
as a pick-lne-up.-London Speaker.