The Dawson news. (Dawson, Ga.) 1889-current, 1895-09-25
HEARTS DESIRES.


boy eagerly.
''wait for you'll What an absurd ideap
laughed the girl "Why, you are only IT,.
1t will be ten years at least before you are
able to marry, and in ten years shall be
quite old You see," continued the girl
sagely, 81 am old enough to be married
now, and that is where the difference
comes in. And am going to be present
cd and go to parties and wear lovely frocks
Il do hate those shabby old things-and
then shall marry somebody rich and great
and live in the world. I'm SO tired of this
little poky place, with nothing but les
sons and Sunday school children and rheu-
matte old women''-when suddenly look
ing down at the golden haired lad stretch
cd on the turf at her feet-'Only, of course
l shall miss you, Herbert.
"That is all very well for you, but what
Is to become of me? want to marry for
love, and how can il you go and marry
somebody elses" said the boy plaintivcly.
sit is quito easy, answered the girl as
she plucked stem of Towering grass, then
Rrayely counted, "'This year, NEXT year,
some time, never this year; think of
that You must, of course, fall In love
with somebody who isn't married. You
can't really be IN love with me, | think,
because you are so young, and am not
in love with you. ! am almost tho only
girl you know, and you are used to mo,
We are like brother and sister, but that
isn't love.
chow do you know" asked the boy
jealOusly. "Are you in lover Old Temp
kins Is the only man about here. "
Don't be cross. Old Tompkinsl A
bald head, speotacles and q perpetual sniff.
fie. No, Herbert, I'm not in love with a
man at all. I'm In love with life and
wealth and power, II YOU'D always worn
hideous old frocks that didn't fit and had
been kept OF home oil your life with stupid
governesses, because 1t Is no good spend
ing money on a girl until 1t will pay frolil
the marrying point Of view, you would
know what / feel like. But you have
your ambitions too You want to be a
great poet; you want all the world to see
the rocks and woods and the everchanging
sea as you see them, and to hear the sky
lark and the nightingale as you hear them,
Isn't that enough for your"
"No, want oil that and more too. Oh,
Meg, can't you see that you have been the
Inspiration OF all my poetry, that 1t Is for
you I've written the songs the birds sing
to me and painted the pictures our eyes
have seen togetherP This beautiful place
will be all empty and drear when you are
gone. Must you goP Stay here as WI
have been until get some money. II you
go cannot come after you, and what am
I to do herey"
The girls face grew troubled and hen
eyes wandered far out to sea, where
white sail had just appeared above the
horizon.
.
"Who does she say she lisp
"she's the widow of Lord Hardwnrth.
He was fabulously rich and held some
position in the last cabinet, but ke was
an awful skinfint and not exactly what
be should have been In other respects.
He's been dead about two years. Splendid
woman, ism she9 But she looks as though
she had not found life all beer and skit-
ties"
II believe know something of her then.
WASN'T she Sir John Haughton's only
daughterS'
eyes, and an uncommOnly pretty girl.
Directly she came out she carried of the
pfize Of the seasan=-at least so my IlotheT
said, and she was pretty sure to know the
quality OF the goods upon the market be-
cause my second sister came out that same
spring.
"Look, she's speaking to that curious
looking little man with the red hair who
turned up ut table d'hote yesterday. He
looks like q musician or an artist, Dear
pe how she has Enlightened upl What
will you bet he isn't an old lover. She
doesn't look more than 20, with that pref
ty blush and the smile, and to think 81
their being thrown away on that withered
specimen of humanity. They are strolIing
into the pine wood. II that isn't the last
chapter 0f a romance In real life, I'll VEN
ture to eat my hat. / must find out who
the fellow is.
"You need not trouble, my dear chap.
You're ritiiculOuslg hehindhand, or you d
know that that Is our only poet, Herbert
Blaxtone."
"That Herbert Blaxtone! Well, I'd
never have thought 1t. ] always did say
that geniuses and poets in particular
SHOULD conceal their personality. It's so
disillusioning to know shat your favorite
sonnet was written by scarecrow. But
there's no accounting for the tastes Of
women, and l dare say the fair widow
thiSks him an Adonis. A bachelor, Isn't
heY'
"A widower, ] fancy. Anyway his wife
has been dead for years. He's nothing like
the guy you would make out You are
Jealous, old man, because the fair widow,
as you call her, has steadily refused to
smile on your magnificent proportions.
AL the same, he's a moFose sort of fellow,
and nobody knows much about him. He
was frightfully poor at one time, believe,
and had more than the usual difficulty In
convincing the critics that his verses
weren't twaddle Butshe's @ tremendous
swell now. :"
"And Of course my lady is beginning to
look out for No. 2. Kismet, 1t is fatep
ANDY you went iutO the wQyld and found
your hearts desire?" said the man.
Yes; married and got 1t in fashion, "
answered the woman.
Sand it wasn't quite all your fancy
painted itS" asked the man.
"Things never turn out exactly as one
imagines. There Is usually something one
does not calculate upon"
what was it In your casOS persisted
The man.
The woman's pale face flushed.
My heart is dcad-it died Of starvation.