Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1898-02-24

peen mailed In Simpkinsyille-ber own
wv. Inns postmark mad been noted
ana commented upon, and vet it had
seemed impossible to have if ntber-
WISE. But this year, in spite of MANY
.onplications and difficulties, she had
lesoiVed tnat the envelope should tell
a new story. -
Tue Iarthest point from which. with
IN ner possible acquaintance, it would
naturally hail was the railroad town of
let us call it Hope.
Inc extreme difficulty in the case Law
In the fact that the postofice here was
kept Dy her old lover, Eli Taylor.
Here, for ten years, he had lived
MS retlcent bachelor days selling plows
ana garden seed and cotton prints and
patent medicine, and keeping postof1ce
III small corner of his store.
Everybody knows how a spot. gazed
at 1ntently for long time, changes
color from red to green and then to
white.
AS Miss Jenlima pondered upon the
thought OF sending herself valentine
through her old lovers hands, the
color OF the scheme began to change
from impossible green to rosy red.
by the only possible plan by which
she could manage secretly to have the
valentine, mailed in Hope-a plan over
which she had lost sleep, and in which
she had been finally aided by an litter
ate colored servant going there, to re-
turn next day-it must reach her on
the day before Valentines. This day
had come and gone, and her valentine
mad not returned to her. Had the
negro failed to mail it? Had it re-
NAMED all night in the postofice-in
possession Of her lover? Would she
ever see it again? Would her brother
ever, ever, ever get through with the
children and finish giving out their
valentines?
Miss Jemima had not long to wait,
and yet it seemed an age, before the
distribution was over, and she felt
rather than saw her brother moving
in her direction.
Bigger an purifier one n ever for
Aunt Minnie this time-looks to me
like" he suid, az at last he laid the
great envelope upon her trembling
knee.
Don't reckon it's anything extry-
in particular" she answered, not at all
knowing what she said, as she con-
tinued her work, leaving the valentine
where he had dropped it; not touching
it, indeed, until she presently wound
up her yarn in answer to the supper
bell. Then she took it, with her
work. basket, into her own room, and
dropping it into her upper bureau
drawer, turned the key.
The moment when she broke the new
envelope each year-late at night
alone in her locked chamber-had al
ways been a sad one to Miss Jemima,
and tonight it was even sadder or
deal than ever. She had never before
known how she cared for this old love-
token.
AS she sat tonight looking at the
outside of the envelope, turning it over
and over in her thin hands, great hot
tears fell upon it and ran down upon
her fingers, but she did not heed them.
1t was, indeed, a meager little en-
bodiment Of the romance of life, but
such as it was, she would not part
with it. She would never send it out
from her again-never, never, never.
It was even dearer now than ever be-
fore, after this recent passage through
her lovers hands. At this thought
she raised it lovingly and laid it
against her cheek. Could he have
handled it and passed it on without
thought of her? Impossible. And
since he had thought Of her, what must
have been the nature of his thoughts?
Was he jealous-jealous because some
body else was sending his old sweet
heart a valentine?
This years envelope, selected with
great pains and trouble from sample
catalogue and ordered from distant
city, was fine affair profusely decor
ated with love symbols.
For long time Miss Jemima sat en-
joying the luxury of nearness to her
lover that the unopened envelope had
brought her before she felt inclined to
confront the far-away romance typified
by the yellow sheet within. And yet
she wanted to see even this again-to
realize it's recovery.
And so, with thoughts both eager
and fearful, she finally inserted hair
pin carefully in the envelope, ripping
it open delicately on two sides, so that
it might come out without injury to it's
frail, perforated edges. Then, carefully
holding it's sides apart, she shook it.
And now Something happened One
of Gods best traits is that He doesn't
tell all He knows-and sees.
How Miss Jemima felt or acted,
whether she screamed or tainted, no
one will ever know, when, instead Of
the familiar pictured thing, there fell