The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1898-06-21
LOVE IN KLONDIKE.
HER STORY.

him to be reporter, like myself. He
will have to hurry if he gets anything
more than have. Newspaper work is
not exciting sans telephone, night
cab and the rub Of a hudred busy brains
employed on large city edition. The
descriptions were all very well at first.
There was the travel out from civiliza-
ton, with all its incidents and accidents I;
then the keen observation of the coun-
try of the Klondike ITSELF with all its
possibilities and actualities.
But descriptions of the country and
its inhabitants are growing threadbare,
and romance 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 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 l 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 well booted legs and
feet stretched at length and resting
upon a 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 l arrived,
but when fellow leaves civilization
and all the comforts of life, not to speak
of a dozen pretty girls, all so universal
ly magnetic and attractive that he
doesn't know which one his heart might
wish to claim as its own, and leaves all
these for the glittering love Of gold, he
must rub his head into remembering
that patience is a 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 aud 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 a 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
its 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 sl1urrying down the
street amid the flakes Of snow. A cou.
pie Of hours later the settlement seems
to have lost a 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 his
limited vocabulary the other word, gold
en-. Who would not when they saw the
sheen of that golden head? And Ware
Macarthur fully appreciated that he hat
travelled many thousand miles for gold
and that he had found not only gold
but also love, which is far more pre-
cious
HER STORY.
l have just been talking to the latC
arrival l spoke of. He is 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 / told him in confidence of ny
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 a harmless Irritation, on his
side for amusement and on mine from
professional motives
His eyes are very brown and tender
His beard is brown, too, and like the
sincere way he has Of speaking Of people
and things.
HIS STORY.
"Who would have believed it, /" sait
the great stalwart fellow to himself a
he strobe out into the frozen air. ''Sht
wishes for a romance up here in thes'
bald regions, and | am held to furnish
it. Well, I'll do it. She will neve
know how we'll she fell into the trap.
We are the principal actors but III
play my part we'll Ward, my son, have
you lost your head? Has the cold lifted
off the top. even without SO much q:
by your laave?' An hour ago and the
town was dull and dead. You were
wealthy ole bachelor, pretty catch
way back thar in civilization for any
maid, and now you are boy, Eght
hearted fool of lover. Well-a love-
and what about beloved? Let wei
enough alone, and for the time an
only taking a part. .
HER STORY
Ward Macarthur is my friends name
I have learned more about him than
did when we agreed to enter upon a fir
tation. to inspire this most stubborn
pen Of mine and to satisfy his LONGING
for companionship. He is one Of tn
most successful and immensely wealth.
gold hunters here. His claims Away
prove gold. Iwonder what he thinks o
me. I'm sure no one could have asket
for more than the look which shone il
his eyes as he quoted something abou
golden hair to me this morning. Well
| don't care what he thinks, only l wis
/ did not have to bundle up into per
feet fright. The cold is something ter
rible. Ishould die if it were not for MI
Macarthur keeping the blood in circu
lation through sheer interest in him
He is the most original man ever met
HIS STORY
"Ten days have gone by, and I hay
seen her every day. All the fun in lif
lies in this dead old town. Sledge par
ties and snowshoe parties, skating an
snowballing - for two. What fun
Things are growing pretty warm fc
me, and when she turns her blue eye
around and slowly raised the long firing
ed lashes-Jove-suppose she is reall
only playing part? Is not that tn