Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1894-10-18

NO., Ee SHIu, WIFI iINululttis ~
erence, II do not know half your
goodness and unseltishness; ever ii L
did they would only shame the idle
ness and weakness Of my own nature
Yours she cried looking az him
with wonder and admiration in her
eyes. when you are SO great"
II greatr' he laughed mockingly. IF
you were not so ignorant of the worlds
opinions, child. you would not apply
that word to me-"
Does the world not heed you, then?'
"As yet, no. l have no gold to buy
its smiles-no friends to influence its
favors. For the rest If i possess any
gifts, which | doubt often, they are not
powerful enough TO command success,
perhaps ever TO deserve it,"
You are great to me- she said hum
bly,, looking at him with wistful com
prehension Of his words that touched
him deeply.
Because you do not know what
greatness really is" he answered impa-
tiently. THE fame. the honor, the Won
der of ones fellowmen.
II should not call that greatness"
she said softly as if half ashamed of
her own temerity. "'The praise and
wonder and admiration of men are all
very we'll; but If one knows one does
not deserve them?'
They are just as sweet, perhaps
sweeter." he answered.
mot il man is true to himself, or to
the gifts which God has placed In his
keeping. 1t is no true fame, no real
greatness. to obtain what one is not
worthy Of"
The imperfect utterance of this home
ly and unframed intelligence spoke a
truth that struck home to her nearer
that N1s,prised and shamed him at
n and the same moment.
Full wen he knew that the desire for
fame which filled his breast and ami
mated his efforts was not q desire
s%pringing from anoble consciousness
OF his own deserts. but rather a few
erish longing for the showers of gold,
the homage of fiattery, the sweets OF
adulation, that make up the ephemeral
tr1umphS OF a lifetime, not the lasting
tribute that future ages will pay to the
deserts of genius.
You are right, Genna," he said, sud-
denly. II do not know where you get
your wisdom, but 1t Is worth all mine
gathered from the lips of men, from
the teachings of cities. We poets and
and painters are no better than the
rest Of mankind. perhaps worse; we
know the truth, yet disguise it. We
teach lessons, yet never attempt to
practice them. We praise remuneration
yet banker after the fiesh-pots Of
Egypt in our secret hearts-we look up
TO the sun, but our feet remain fixed
in the mire."
you should not be so,' she said
looking gravely up at the handsome
face before her.
He bent down and lightly kissed her
hand. Nor would /, dear Genna,'' he
said, with an involuntary softness In
his voice that was not feigned. "Nor
would /. IL such a woman as yourself
Were beside me always"
The words, frightened, gladdened, be-
wildered her. To be of any use, of any
worth to him. That thought was too
full of ecstasy for aught but silence. and
solitude. She broke away from his de-
tanning hand and fled to her room and
threw herself down, with her heart
throbbing as IL it would burst, her
limbs quivering. her face burning. His
words had reused In her a passion
strong as life, pure as crystal. She felt
as IL she could have laid her life down
at his feet or the supreme bliss that he
had given her with that caress Of his
lips, that involuntary entreaty which
had thrilled his words.
She was unframed, coarse, ignorant
that she knew-,and. yet she was use,
of worth to him. who was to her a king
among men. She had no guide, except
her instincts Of purity, fidelity, passion;
but they were instincts both great and
"a ~-1 .N..ll --
even amid a torture Of suffering, q fire
of temptation.
CTo Be Continually