The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1896-01-15
CHOLLY'S STORY.

white, looking perfect picture oI
manly beauty. Cholly was a blonde
specimen of the male sex, blue-eyed,
golden-haired; q stalwart representa-
tive 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 a
charmed play place, where girls wor-
shipped him and men voted him a
trump. So much for Cholly, debonair,
Lind-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 30 expected
found their way to the usual rendez-
vous. By general agreement the music
was banished, coats discarded, negligee
attitudes assumed and the eight men
amused themselves by relating anec-
dotes and personal experiences.
''By the way, Cholly," at last friend
said to the blonde Adonis, who, sprawled
on "a 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
atrocities, cowboys breaks or out
RACES? These fellows stories are stale.
We require something spicy to stir
us up night like this"
"Well, 1 did have an adventure, but
it's recital won't be spicy, Tracy; don't
think it will be the style you care for"
"Out with it! Out with it'll" seven
voices simultaneously exclaimed. lis
it Christian Endeavor story, Cholly?'
asked Tracy. you do look awful sol
emn."
mo, it's a Sunday-school tale" said
Andy Wears, very young man with
a new mustache and drawl.
"All right" said Cholly, quietly. "If
you fellows don't be quiet, won't tell
it,
go on, Cholly, don't mind the
calves" grunted old Maj. Poole. Tell
us your story, man."
ut will interest you, major; doubt
less you remember the Donovans, of
Limerick-prettyK Kate, they called one
of them. l met them in Dublin
"Do I remember her? May me eys
fall out of me head if ever see her likes
again-eyes like violets, hair like ink
and skin like peaches and cream. And
fgger! God bless you, boys, she had
a fgger like a goddess. She could ride
cross country like a bird. Never saw
Cholly, me boy, l thought you were
gone in that direction. Oh, the pair
you'd have made"
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
seemed nightly upset by the majors
remarks), 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 a sumner, as the major says,
the best cross-country rider ever saw.
She was as poor as a church mouse and
as proud as Lucifer. She was an or
phan, had been brought up by her uncle,
old Peter Donovan; he had three
daughters of his own, but none of them
could hold candle to Miss Kate herself.
From what saw during the time was
in Dublin, don't think the trio cared
much for pretty Kate; they were jeal-
GUS of her, and took pains to show it in
many petty ways, particularly when
Capt. Gordon, who was considered a
matrimonial catch, appeared on the
scene and devoted himself to Kate
'Capt. Rupert Gordon, Of the 47th ?''
queried Maj. Poole.
1.-THE. very same, dark beggar, with
a bad mouth and lots of money.
"Well, he was the man that set all the
Dublin girls wild. They literally lion
lied 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 Kate, she hardly knew what to
do; she was very unhappy-she told me
all about it one evening at dame.
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 l, or 1 could have
warned her. They were married in
September; in November Gordon took
her to the Riviera after the honeymoon
was over; fellow who met them there
told me- that Kate-that is Mrs Gordou