The Louisiana populist., 1897-01-01

| THAT don 20 through Luii olllce,
said the telegraph operator. You're
sending that telegram to yourself and
signing it with another mans name.
It's against the rules to use the wires
for criminal operations. ., were ulto
you, young fe.leI!"
l bit my lip and crossed the street
to the cigar store. When | am in a
predicam,nt and studying my way out
l like to chew an unli; cigar. The pro-
prietor refused to sell me one.
Moneys too scarce in this region to
take any risk Ga counterfe!ts. | sup
pose you've stuck me already, but if
YOU have III have the law of you" |
left Hill and sought the Postmistress
i PRO tenn once more. But learned that
she had gone out walking. There was
but one mail q day, and the post office
closed at 7. NJ. | went to my room
aftel. that. and spent Tie rest OF the
day swearing at Jacks motto.
During the following week matters
went from bad to worse: | left the
| house but once day. The fact is, |
had become ctnspicuous. went to
| the post office once each day to expos
tulata with the P0stmistress lrO tenn.
When did so grown peop.e stunned
me and little girls ran crying to their
mothers. The small boys Of the town.
| however. followed me around in a
drove. But l went. nevertheless. The
fact is. had grown rather fond Of ex-
postu.ating with the pretty POstmis-
tress. Shall say that had also grown
rathcr fond of the Postnistress her
self? Well, perhaps more than fond.
But was man ever 50 handicapped
in his courting? She still insisted Oh
calling me Mr. bennett. ! learned,
though, that another letter had arrived
for Mr. Wheaton, addressed in the
same feminine hand, and many more
in business envelopes. But not one
would she deliver to me.
Disguised at the absurd situation
in which l was placed, and at my own
unavai,:ng efforts to extricate myself
| from it, | resolved one afternoon to
vary the monotony Of my disagree
abe vacation by walk in the woods.
The course Of my wanderings led me
to the foot of gnarled old tree whose
huge limbs were but six Or eight feet
from the ground. SAT- down at It's
base. reclining against it, and began
studying the matter over. have the
habit of talking to myself when I am
alone.
Here l am" l mused, without
money enough to get home, and no
possible chance of getting any unless
l renounce my rightful name and tell
them to send me money, using the
name of Jack bennett But do want
to get home? No, not while that au-
burn haired Postmistress remains
Ee;e. Here l am, and have no idea
whether have been accepted by Miss
Violet pierson or mot. But do l want
to be accepted by Miss Violet Pierson?
Decidedly not. Most assuredly not, If
that auburn haired Postmistress is
neither married nor engaged. Now, do
love that auburn haired Postmis-
tress? do, most Ironoureedly. I
love the ground she walk : on, the
stamps she sells, the pen he writes
with, and, if feel that way toward
her l must love her sincerely, for she
has got me into the worst mess Of
trouble l ever experienced in my life.
But, under existing circumstances, ]
cannot even make love to her; I'm
blessed if I'll court her under the name
of Jack bennett. Let Jack do his own
counting. And she won't recognize
me under any other name, nor could
I entertain her if she did. ! have
money enough left to buy her two or
three ice creams, but the ice cream
man won't sell to me any more than
the rest of them will. OF one thing,
though, am certain. ! love her, and
I'm going to marry her it have to
break viclet's heart, and"
Keep me up here all the rest of the
afternoon listening to your nonsense:'
1t was the voice of the Postmistress
pro. TEN. looked up. There she was
seated on low hanging branch of that
self same tree. She had been reading
a novel. She was biushing and laugh
ing. And she was a very charming
picture, too.
"I--I-I-beg your pardon said |.
well, l think you ought to- she
answered. ''But you needn't be SO
afraid of breaking Yio!et's heart If
you really are Mr.. Frank Wheaton.
See" She held up large rectangular
envelope. ut is the last letter for Mr..
Wheaton from the girl in New York, =
she ce,ltinued. And she is either
sending him her photograph, or she Is
sending his back to him. Undoubt-
edly the latter, as he has been such a
p3cr correspondent. OH"
The letter dropped at my feet.
THANK you,' said I, tearing it open.
'Do you carry the mail around with
yofl on your ramblngs?"