The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1896-09-16
AN OLD, OLD STORY

"It is of no use !" said Mary, desper-
ately. ''I can't think of a single thing
to say"
She sat and frowned gloomily, biting
the end of her penholder. Now and
then she ran her hand distractedly
through her hair. This was a trick of
hers when thinking hard, and, as a
rule, the result was more startling than
pleasing.
1T is of no user she said again /;
but this time with different infiec-
ton. al mustn't sit here and give
way to laziness like this. II / don't
write a tale, We can't pay the grocer's
bill / must and will begin, only
what on earth am / to say?"
Mary's brain was fertile enough, and
her busy face generally delighted in
spinning love stories and the like. In
the early days of her scribbling she
had been greatly laughed at by her
mother and sisters, but when welcome
little checks began to come in return
for bulky envelopes sent through the
post the tone of the family altered,
and Mary had for some time been re-
garded as person of importance.
Perhaps they overrated her powers,
for they had come TO the conclusion
that Mary could do almost anything.
Mary's head was looked upon as bank
upon which an unlimited amount of
modest demands could be drawn, and
the girl now and then felt trifle over
whelmed as she realized what was ex-
pected of her.
"0h, Mary must write a tale" her
mother would say, easily, when an adj
ditional expense was suggested. So
the fancy of the moment would be in-
dulged i'm, and Mary would shut her
self up in the little room she called her
own, from whence in due time she
would emerge tired, but triumphant.
On this particular morning, however,
she racked her brains in vain. She
tried her hardest to think of some slen-
der framework upon which TO hang
the usual mild lovemaking, but the
more she tried to WOO ''the muse" the
more obstinately did the said muse re-
fuse to respond to her advances.
feel exactly as if a wet sponge had
been pressed over my brain," she
thought, despairingly. ''There doesn't
seem a single idea left"
Just then gentle rap came at the
door.
"Come in" said Mary, impatiently.
She never liked being intercepted
when she was trying to work, and just
now she felt more than usually cross.
Her face relaxed, a little, however,
when she saw her visitor.
you, John! thought it was Jen-
ME. / wondered whatever she want
ed now"
"Poor Jennie" said the newcomer,
laughing.
"Poor Mary, l think" rejoined Ma
Ty, dolefully.
"Why whatever is the matter ?" ask
ed John Redmond, taking seat, and
evidently preparing to make himself
as comfortable as circumstances per-
mitted. He looked very strong and
capable as he smiled down upon Mary,
and the girl was conscious of distinct
feeling of relief, though she hardly
knew its source.
"Well," said Mary, al feel worried
and bothered. You know, John, how
much all our folks have got into the
way of looking to me for help in mon
ey matters?"
"Yes, 1 know" replied John, with a
rather curious infection.
al like to do it," said Mary, quickly,
at makes me very glad and happy to
do it | should not say word about it to
anybody but you, but you already
know these details. You are such an
intimate friend of the family, aren't
you?"
very intimate friend of the fami-
~" e ;hoed the young man, gravely.
tpd mother has often told you how
easy 7 d was for me to earn few pounds,
hasn II she?r
Npery often,p answered the young
man again, with the same gravity.
"T Nell, john" said Mary, lifting 6
pair OF very earnest eyes to his, her ac
cent?. full of sorrow and dismay. 81
am sometimes afraid l can't keep on
doiI fg it,"
What makes you think so?n asked
Joii IN, gently.
III can't think of anything" sait
Nj FRY, the tears brimming up into he
eyes. al have sat here this morning
fof nearly an hour, and not q single