The Press., 1898-07-21
LOVE IN KLONDIKE.
HER STORY.

next post leaving Gn0 SCaClOn-On the
Klondike. And what is there have
not already written?
The latest arrival at this lodging
house is stupid oldish man. suspect
him to be q reporter, like myself He
will have to hurry if he gets anything
more than have. Newspaper work is
not exciting sans a telephone, night
cab and the rub of hudred busy brains
employed on large city edition. The
descriptions were all very well at first
There was the travel out from civi1iza-
tion, with all its incidents and accidents;
then the keen observation of the coun-
try of the Klondike itself, with all its
possibilities and actualities.
But descriptions of the country and
it's inhabitants are growing threadbare,
and a romsnce or two, the last brief
communication from the city editor
limited, would be very acceptable, ro-
nance where the moon is never
more suggestive of anything than the
shivers, where a shimmery lawn and
bare throat would inspire long night
mare of pneumonia and Group, while
as to the orthodox hammock-ah, a
hammock on the Klondike would be
available for occupancy only when
swung between two andirons. No; Gu
pid could never masquerade in a Klon-
dixie suit. Yet am sure know some
one who would not need moonlight or
summer fairies in hamomck to bring
the romance of his bright nature into
being. But he is far enough away-far
enough to cool the great throb Of re-
membering love into practical desper-
alton over the unwritten article.
HIS STORY
"Bleak, lone and desolate without !;
bleak, lone and desolate within. +"
This comes slowly between puffs of
cigar smoke from the lips of man sit
ting in front of an open stove in which
a fire was struggling to burn. Its fitful
blazes now and then brighten the walls
of a miners camp The smoke from the
speakers pipe curls in rings above his
head-then, settling, fingers about him
in thick cloud, out of which emerged
two crossed and we'll booted legs and
feet stretched at length and resting
upon huge log lying back of the stove
and wedged between it and the wall.
"Deuced lonely place this" lifting
up one foot and readjusting his trousers
in the top Of his boot. 81 haven't seen
an attractive person since arrived,
but when fellow leaves civilization
and all the comforts of 1ife not to speak
of dozen pretty girls, all so universal
ly magnetic and attractive that he
doesn' know which one his heart might
10 1oS1 TO- Of
these for the glittering love of gold, he
must rub his head into remembering
that patience is virtue, and he must
also fully understand the true meaning
of the word virtue. -
1t had had as long and bitter a mean
ing as his long and tiresome journey,
for Ward Macarthur had travelled many
miles by train and boat, ON horseback
and on foot to reach these golden fields,
SO alluring to read about when one is
comfortably warmed and clothed and
fed in climate that is not calculated to
make the blood freeze in his veins, then
be thawed by an open log fire and NOV
ed about only to have his blood perform
the same up to date feat.
Suddenly McArthur's boots came
down with thump, and his head is on
it's level plane again. A petticoat pass
ed his window. This was indeed rari-
ty in the snow fortified burg. On go the
long fur coat, cap and gloves. AS he
slams the cabin door Macarthur catches
sight of natty figure in long ulster
and walking hat skurrying down the
st-eet amid the flakes of snow. A cou-
pie of hours later the settlement seems
to have lost part of its barrenness. A
pair of blue eyes had looked into his
when the adroitly managed introduction
took place, and something else had oc.
CURED also, mutually created interest
each in the other The two words gold
and golden are very nearly alike. He
had loved the word gold for it's intrinsic
value, and he had already realized the
full worth of it. He now added to hiE
limited vocabulary the other word, gold
en-. Who would not when they saw the
sheen of that golden head? And Ward
Macarthur fully appreciated that he had
travelled many thousand miles for gold,
and that he had found not only gold
but also love, which is far more pre-
cious.
| HEX STORY
have just been talking to the latt
arrival spoke Of He is a most inter
esting man, and not at all poky or ole
as he looked to be. He seems to be hun
CRY for the society of womankind, ant
when I told him in confidence of my
perplexity over furnishing a romance fol
the paper his eyes twinkled as he sug
gested we might supply one ourselves
so we have entered into an agreement
to take up harmless Irritation, on hil
side for amusement and on mine from
professional motives.
His eyes are very brown and tender
His beard is brown, too, and I like the
sincere way he has of speaking of people
and things.
i HIS STORY.
"Who would have believed it,, sait
the great, stalwart fellow to himself al
he strobe out into the frozen air. "Sht
wishes for a romance up here in thest
bald regions and 1 am held to furnish
it. Well, I'll do it. She will never
know how we'll she fell into the trap
We are the principal actors, but I'll
play my part well. Ward, my son, have
you lost your head? Has the cold lifted
off the top, even without SO much al
'by your leave?' An hour ago and th'
town was dull and dead. You were 1
wealthy old bachelor, pretty catct
sway back thar in civilization for any
maid, and now you are boy, ligh
hearted fool of q lover. Well-a love-
land what about beloved? Let wei
enough alone, and for the time an
only taking part. -