The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1896-07-10

% make the experiment
There wac something novel in the
idea, aud every empty bottle on ship
board was soon brought on deck
Everybody, young and old, began
70 write letters-eyorybody except
Elsie Annabel.
No waiting kindred anxiously ox-
peciod her return, and the only real
friend sho had ever had, handsome
Guy Chalmers, was lost 10 her.
Two years before she had engaged
herself to the young artist, but they
had quarrelod, aud separated in anger,
az lovers will.
She was too proud to ask bis for
glyeness, and he was too stubborn to
ask hora
Gradually they bad drifted apart,
and finally they lost all sight Of each
other.
Elsie sighed as these thoughts Of
the past surged through her mind,
and sue sighed-a bitter, quiyering
sigh
Papa Gale was a rich pork mer-
chant aud, in his rough way, was kind
to her.
lie paid her literally for the service
she rendered in polishing up the some.
what neglected edueations of his two
daughters, but they we're selfish and
caprieious, and her lot was not, by any
means, a happy one.
The steamships deck now rang with
| joyous laughter and merry jest, as the
passengers prepared the messages that
they confidently hoped would be waited
shoreward.
All sorts of letters we're written,
read over laughingly, placed in their
frail receptacles, and cast into the sea.
Even the sailors became interested
in the experiment, and sent ont mes
soges to waiting friends, or anxious
sweethearts in dear America.
"Have you written your message
yet, Miss Annabel?" asked Agnes
Gale, hating for a moment beside her
maid. as she leaned over the rail aud
watched the tightly-corked bottles, as
they bobbed mp and down.
"My message?' cried Elsie, with a
guilty start, for she had just been
thinking of Guy Chalmers. "Ah-eh
really have no one to write to"
"No one?" persisted Agnes.
"Nol" was the low answer, and FL
sizes eyes dropped.
Chats too bad r. said Agnes, COM
miseratingly. Everybody is send
ing out message. If were you I'd
just write something and send it off at
random. You could sign your name
and address, and perhaps some one
would find it who'd be anxious to
know who you are and would write.
That would be romanticI"
''Tve no taste for romance!" an
swered Elsie, but she nevertheless pro-
cured a bottle, and after moments
thought, wrote on piece of paper.
"IN MID OCEAN ON STEAMER NANT1c,
August 12-Au accident which hap
pened to our propeller has delayed
our voyage, and we are nine days out
from Liverpool. The captain says
we are just half way between that port
and New York. Every body is well.
'tE1sIE ANNABEL,
Scare of John Gale, ESQ.,,
walnut Hills, Cincinnati, Ohio. "
She placed this simple message in q
bottle, corked and sealed it, and tossed
it overheard.
The bottle was particularly long.
necked, bright green IN color, and hel
inexperienced hand had smeared the
whole top with red ink.
She stood watching it a long time,
but finally it disappeared, and, with
a weary sigh, she turned and wen
below.
The Mantle ultimately reached New
York, and Mr.. John Gale hurried
back to Cincinnati, to attend to hi
pork.
Rob Darlington and his cousin, Ar
thur Stevens, babe the Misses Gale fare
well, and secretly promised to CORE
spond with them.
The Gales had been home nearly |
month, when one morning a hirec