Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1897-10-21

down 20 years ago. would still have
been old. This building is owned by
some church corporation which fur
nishes students with rooms in the old
shack at miserably low rates.
But more miserable than all else are
the rooms; these are devoid of furni-
ture, save a riekety old table, chair
and a rusty stove with a crazy pipe,
some dry goods boxes and broken
looking glass. The decorations were
the work of spiders and flies of genera
tions gone. The windows, for the most
part, were minus glass and stuffed up
with copy books and old paper. Here
Harvey was located. just across the
way was the local chapter of his fra
ternity. Little did his wealthy broth
ers think that the Tramp Law" as they
called him, possessed their most sacred
of secrets, knew their grip, bad MEM
orized their ritual and was indeed q
brother in good standing.
1t was the night of the junior hop.
Across the campus the gay young dane
ers assembled from all parts of the
country were whirling, enmeshed in
the mazes of the waltz.
1t was just midnight; Harvey had
put in hard night over a still harder
lesson in common law pleading. He
crossed the floor to the window. The
dingy old building shook in the wind
that moaned bitterly out of doors. He
brushed aside the frost from the pane
and looked in silent meditation toward
the scenes of gayety and grandeur. He
reflected on his own position; thought
of time when he was part of a similar
gay assemblage, and how now he was
poor and more miserable than the
coachmen that were knocking their
heels together without.
He sat down before his dim fire, and
thoughts of another junior hop came
to him. He was back again in the good
old days; Bessie was by his side; he
saw her tender eyes looking into his;
she seemed just as she did that night
in the conservatory when, for the first
time in his life, he felt the warm and
gentle pressure of the hand of the wom-
an he loved. His heart beat lively and
his body thrilled through and through.
Strange it is" he said to himself,
that a beggar dares love-" AS the
blaze dimmed and the Goals blackened
he thought of his career, of his wealth,
his life, his adventure and, last of all,
his poverty. "Such is life" he said to
himself. ''Why not write story about
it all? It seems more romantic than
real, anyway. People would read it and
be interested in the characters they can
never know, and besides, need pair
of shoes and new coat badly"
A few weeks later in Sunday paper
there appeared a most interesting col
lege romance about the junior hop at
Ann Arbor.
A pale and sickly new boy was vainIy
trying to sell his wares in a crowded
parlor car. Travellers fatigued with
long and hard journey, and chilled with
the cold even in the car, were not inter-
ested in the paper, and only one was
affected by the pale look upon the face
of the poor and thinly-clad boy.
This was a very handsome young
lady; she was tired with her journey
and seemed weary of the world. She
purchased all the papers because she
pitied the boy. She looked them over;
her eye CHANGED upon a college echo.
She read the story, for she used to know
college girls and fellows, too, for all
that.
The story finished, the paper at her
feet, this very handsome young lady
unconsciously lent a charm TO her
beauty by the tear in her soft blue eyes.
The next day shortly before noon
there was light step upon the dingy
old staircase that led to Harvey's room,
and there was light rap at the door.
Harvey, thinking it was his washwom-
an, called out: "Come in, but 1 have no
washing for you to-day" The visitor
came in, and Harvey looked up; he al
most tainted, for before him he saw his
sweetheart of other days, Bessie Hill.
1 have just received a letter from
Harvey to-day in which he says: 'In
this mail you will receive printed in
vitation, etc. Well, old man, the affairs
to be in Boston, so as all the fellows
can be there, and it is special request
of Bessie's that you be the best man.
Cincinnati oil