Wood River times. [volume] (Hailey, Idaho) 1882-1915, 1893-10-10
COGSMITH'S BACK.

THE handkerchief the handkerchiefr"-
OTHELLO.
am certainly the most unfortu-
nate man in the world.
II not, how does it happen that
am not married to Miss Priscilla
Pritchard, only child and sole heiress
of the late not much lamented Jede-
diah Pritchard of Pritchardstown?
She is worth a million and a half
at the very lowest computation, and
I'm not worth a penny, except in
the way of credit. l am worth quite
a sum in that way, however, and
have plenty of unpaid bills to prove
it.
1t was almost sure thing 1 know
she would have said eyes" il had
popped the question the last time we
met.
Oh. why didn't pop the question
the last time we met?
1t is of mo use, l suppose, to cry
over spilled milk. She has gone and
married another man. I understand,
and am set out in the cold. 1 can
not cry. but should like to do lit
tie swearing il it were not against
my principles.
You see, flowed her passionately
with my whole heart and soul and
was greatly in want Of money
She entertained, l think, strong
feeling OF regard for me, and as she
had had very few offers for the last
four years she might easily have been
led to accept my hand, heart, and
no, not my fortune; have none, but
we will say, my name, which is just
Is good, IL a body only thinks So
- Only she doesn't think so any
longer
Let me collect my bewildered senses
and relate the narrowing story. 1t
may calm me.
Peter Cogsmith is one Of my Oldest
friends. We were boys together. He
is celebrated for two things only, so
far as know: for being cross.eyed,
and for carrying the largest, vulgarest
silk handkerchiefs-all red, and vel
low, ring streaked and spotted-that
ever were seen.
Notwithstanding which he is an
excellent fellow.
If he had been little fellow, he
might have been celebrated for that,
too: but he had a serious failing-his
back closely resembled that of re-
spectacle old buffer, with whom am
but slightly acquainted.
hate respectable old buffers with
whom l am but slightly acquainted.
l remember that when Cogsmith
and were at school together, he used
already to carry those hideous hand
kerchiefs, and it was considered
rather a lark, among the boys, to
steal them out of his pocket. The
head boy of our class had eight of
them, all at once. that he had stolen
aud accumulated.
''Ah, why did remember the
frolicsome days of boyhood? Why
did ever attempt to renew for.
gotten sportiveness and an obsolete
jocundity?
Let us pause to drop a brinv pearl
and proceed with fresh penful OF
ink.
Business-which Isloathc and de-
test--keeps me occupied during the
daytime, and my only hours of recre-
alton are those that 1 snatch from
the balmY period Of slumber.
Therefore, l never had many op.
portunities to visit Miss Priscilla
Pritchard, save on Sundays, and on
the evenings of the week. My suit,
then. prospered slowly. but it did
prosper. Oh, yes; did 1 not press her
hand unreproved? Did not insin.
uate, three several times, that con-
sidered her personal attractions con.
siderably superior to the average:
Did not express my affection for her
liz thousand nameless ways-by
signs, by signs, by means, by groans,
by every means, in word, that your
skilltul lover understands so we'll?
OF course did.
And she-she not only accepted all
this homage so delicately rendered,
>but she gave me to understand that
she should like to have me keep at it.
'.Frailty, thy name is woman"
How true!
1t was one year ago last Wednes-
day night, that she and l sat alone in
the little extension room off the back
parlor of Miss Pritchard's palatia
city residence. We were alone.
had been getting along very finely,
but somehow could not get my cour
age up to the point.
SO determined to give myself one
more chance the next night. I had
brilliant idea something new auo
original
ioong men. take warning by my
Iate! Never trust brilliant, new
ana original ideas Strike while the
iron Is hot. and clinch the nail m
soon as possible. Is
MY idea was to invite Miss Priscilla
to accompany me to the opera and I'd
propose to her between the acts, In q
proscenium-bOx. flattered mysel1
that music's dreamy swell, the faint
perfumes of the house en- toilette, the
mellowed glitter of 1000 lights, the
WitcherY OF the Snectacle ALI would