The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1896-10-03

sixty or seventy years, SAID:
"Now, THEODORE, you're allays findin
fault. remember when we come here
to t'other victory; you said you new
er'd be caught in SIGH crowd agin,
and this is bigger if my memory is
worth anything"
Bigger! well, l should say! its
DC to y if it's anything, and not
much of victory either"
From the first Miss Marks had
turned swiftly and suddenly, watch
ing the couple and listening to them
eagerly, and middle-aged gentle
man near by with half amused,
half wearied expression in his eyes,
looked across and met her gaze cur
iously.
There are some things that stand
out forever in our memory, and by
| Marion Marks the name THEODORE
would never be forgotten. If any
thing had been wanting to call back
the unwilling of the monument and
the first battle on Lake Erie, the link
was here. The gorgeous parade of
today was spectacle not easy to
forget, but it could all be rolled into
that one name, THEODORE. The years
slipped away from her and the sue
cessful woman of the world was an
undisciplined school girl of sixteen,
who was enjoying her first bit of life
in the Forest City, that had since
burst it's environments and marvel
ously and miraculously grown to its
present dimensions; defying hills and
dales and rivers, and spreading out
ward and onward in Unsuitable ambi
ton and restless American energy.
The viaducts and bridges, the ship
ping down in the harbors, the won
derful progress of railways; the net
work of electric wires and the outly
ing towns thus connected, was a
centennial tribute to mans wonderful
powers of invention that could but
be admired. But nothing could
equal the magic of those homely,
unromantic words, "The'dore," "A
sham fight is sure sign of war"
The middle-aged gentleman with
the wearied look in his eyes, got up
and worked his way to Marion's side,
and sat down by her with the words:
"Do you believe that sham battle
Is the sign of war;"
NO." Miss Marks returned as her
eyes travelled toward the lake again
with a far away look in their sombre
depths. Possibly she could see
Lookout Mountain on the waters in
stead of the reproduction of the bat
tie of Lake Erie. He was watching
her instead of the battle; the pale
rose ribbon collar with its up-to date
bow at the back of the neck, seeming
to claim his especial admiration. 1t
was notable fact that Miss Marks
always wore something pink.
At last he reached out his hand and
laid it over hers.
"Marion!" he said gravely, 'do you
want me to go away and leave you
alone now?"
Possibly it might have been the i'll
fate of the Lawrence, or the destruc-
ton of the British fleet that caused
that startled look in Marion's eyes,
as she turned them full upon her in
terlocutor, who bore her scrutiny
without blanching, but with a pecu-
liar smile that thirty six years had
not changed.
SIS it you, Vance?" she asked in a
low voice, without attempting to
withdraw her hand.
"Ves, Marion, it is |. Vance Garlic
ton"
"Where have you been all these
years9 l thought you-died- at
Lookout"
II was taken prisoner at Lookout.
When au exchange was effected l
learned that Marion Marks and fam
lily had left Stanton, and no one
seemed to know where you had gone.
Only Jim Brooks was sure you were
married. went not to the conven
tional wild west, but to New York
and engaged in business. The Forest
City centennial brought me here. In
a recent conversation with Easton
Eastlake, l learned that Marion
Marks, was living and near by; un-
married, and as fair and young as
ever. Why have you never married,
MarionP
"Hush!" she exclaimed, eve will
discuss that some other time. Let
us see the end of the battle"
"You witnessed that once"
"Yes, and now twice. And even
three times, for the battle l fought
was one of years between self-will,
and good sense"
Il 4