The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1896-01-15
CHOLLY'S STORY.

1t was too warm an evening, even for
a smoking concert, Cholly said as he
came out of his room, attired all in
white, looking perfect picture of man
ly beauty. Cholly was blond specimen
of the male sex. blue eyed, golden hair
ed, stalwart representative of the
Saxon type. He was 81, well placed as
regards this worlds wealth and position.
Life to him-thanks to old Egerton
Bailey, his late father--was a pleasant
pastime, the world charmed play
place, where girls worshiped him and
men voted him a trump. So much for
Cholly, debonair, kind hearted and
handsome, who had travelled the world
over, making friends wherever he went.
Cholly's prediction that it was too
warm even for smoking concert on this
particular evening was verified by the
slim attendance there ON his arrival.
Only eight men out of the 80 expected
found their way to the usual rendezvous.
By general agreement the music was
banished, coats discarded, negligee atti-
tudes assumed, and the eight men
amused themselves by relating anecdotes
and personal experiences.
''By the way, Cholly," at last friend
said to the blond Adonis, who, sprawled
on sofa, was listening quietly to the
conversation, you're very silent to-
night. You've just arrived from the
west too Come, haven't you some blood
curdling tale TO tell us of western atroc-
tiles, cowboy breaks or Coxey out
RACES? These fellows stories are stale.
We require something spicy to stir us up
a night like this. :"
"Well, / did have an adventure, but
its recital won't be spicy, Tracy. don't
think it will be the style you care for. !"
"Out with it Out with it," seven
voices simultaneously exclaimed. "Is it
a Christian Endeavor story, Cholly?"
asked Tracy. lyon do look awful sol
emn. ="
"No; lisa Sunday school talk, said
Andy Wears, very young man with
new mustacbe and drawl.
"All right, said Cholly quietly; "if
you fellows DON t be quiet, l won't tell
it. ="
$50 on, Cholly. Don't mind the
calves, "grunted old Major Poole. "Tell
us your story, man. "
cit will interest you, major. Doubt
less you remember the Donovans of
Limerick-pretty Kate, they called one
of them. met them in Dublin. !"
"Do l remember her? May me eyes
fall out of me head if ever see her
likes again--eyes like violets, hair like
ink and a skin like peaches and cream.
And figger God bless You, boys, she
had figger like a goddess. She could
ride cross country like bird. Never
saw such rider before nor since. But,
Cholly, me boy, thought you were
gone in that direction. Oh, the pair
you'd have madei'
Cholly blushed scarlet; the company
exchanged glances. "Seems to me-, :"
said Andy Wears, "that the majors
telling this story. Go on, Cholly; hold
the platform. So Cholly cleared his
throat, as Andy said afterward he SEEM
ed nightly upset by the majors re-
marks, wiped the perspiration from his
flushed face and began:
"You see, fellows, my story will have
to consist of two parts, the introduction
and the sequel. 1t begins in Ireland four
years ago and ends in Canada four days
ago 1t was in Dublin that first met
Miss Kate Donovan of Limerick. She
was sumner, as the major says, the
best cross country rider / ever saw. She
was poor as a church mouse and proud
as Lucifer She was an orphan had been
brought up by her uncle, old Peter Dom
ovan. He had three daughters OF his
own, but none of them could hold a
candle to Miss Kate herself. From what
l saw during the time was in Dublin
don't think the trio cared much for
pretty Kate; they were jealous of her
and took pains to show it in many petty
ways, particularly when Captain Cor
don, who was considered matrimonial
catch, appeared on the scene and devoted
himself to Kate. J"
Captain Rupert Gordon of the Forty
seventh?' queried Major Poole.
"The very same, dark beggar, with
bad mouth and lots of money.
swell, he was the man that set all
the Dublin girls wild. They literally
ionized him. He was douce enough
there. He was asked everywhere, and
old Peter Donovan was mad enough
when he asked him for his niece and
not for one of his daughters. They
said the three girls never spoke to Kate
for weeks.
Poor Katel She hardly knew what
to do. She was very unhappy. She told
me all about it one evening at dance.
She had devil Of life in her uncle's
house, and Gordon seemed very fond OF
her. She didn't know what he really
was; neither did /, or | could have
warned her. They were married in Sep
TENDER. In November Gordon took her
to the Riviera after the honeymoon was
over. A fellow who met them there told
me that Kate-that is, Mrs. Gordon
looked miserably unhappy, and people
yaid Gordon i'll treated her. However
that may be, she did not stay with him
very long One day woman appeared
at the hotel where they were staying.
She was gaudily attired specimen, not
overcultured. She registered as Mrs.
Captain Gordon and forced herself into
the Gordon private rooms. Gordon
hadn't word to say. He owned up
that he had married her five years be-
fore somewhere, where his regiment was
stationed-I forget where. There was a
terrible scene, which ended by Kate
leaving the hotel. No one knew where
she went. My friend, an Englishman,
who told me just what have told you,
tried to follow her and offered to do
what he could for her in monetary
way. He was gentleman and meant
well by her She refused all offers Of
assistance and disappeared as if the
Mediterranean had swallowed her up.
he heard of her again at Marseilles
She had been singing in cafe there
She always had a passable voice and
played the banjo well. Poor Kate Her