Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1898-02-24

and sorrow. Her life had been for
SO long q weary, treeless plain that In
the dark depth of the valley of sor-
rowing she realized, as something only
from sorrows deeps poor mortals may
know 1t. the possible height of bliss.
For the first time since the separa-
ton. she clasped the valentine to hoT
bosom and called her lovers name
over and over again. sobbing 1t, with
out hope, as one In death agony. But
such emotion is not of death. Is II
not the rebirth of feeling? So It was
with Miss Jemima. and the heart still
ness that had been her safety during
all these years would never be hers
again. There would never again be a
time when her precious possession
would not have a sweet meaning to her
when 1t would be tangible embodi-
ment of the hottest thing her life had
known.
From this time forward, as an offset
to the budding romances about her
Miss Jemima would repair for refuge
and a meager comfort to that which,
while in its discolored and fading face
IL denied none of life's younger ro-
nance, still gave her back her own.
The woman of forty never realizes
her years in the presence of her con-
temporaries. Forty women Of forty
might easily feel young enough to scoff
at the bald head, and deserve to be
eaten by bears-but thirty-nine with a
budding maid for fortieth scoffer
Never!
Miss Jemima, in her suddenly ;e-
allied young-love setting, had be-
come, to her own consciousness, old
and of date gone by. Aunt Jemima'
was naturally regarded by her bloom
ing nephews and nieces. as well as by
their intimates who wore their incipi-
ent mustaches still within their con-
scious toplips or dimples dancing in
their rudy cheeks, quite in the same
category as Mrs. Gibbs, who was sixty.
or any Of their aunts and grandmotn-
ers who sat serenely in daguerrotype
along the parlor mantel.
But there is apt to come a time in
the life of the live single woman of
forty-if she be alive enough-when
in the face of even negative and affec-
tionate disparagement she is moved to
declare herself.
Perhaps there be some who would
say that this declaration savors of
earth Even so, the earth is the Lords.
1t is one thing to be a flower pasted
in honly apd ouita anotbar IN no tho
bud maiden wears-one thing to be
To-day and another to be Yesterday.
One thing, indeed, 1t was to own a
yellow, time-stained valentine, and
quite different one to be of the dimp-
led throng who crowded the Simplins-
vile postoffice on Valentines day.
II reckon then young ones would
think it was perfectly re-dic'lous eff l
was to git a valentine at my time of
life" Miss Jemima said, aloud, to her
looking glass one morning. 1t was
the day before st. Valentines Of the
year following her day of tears.
But I'll show 'em!" she added, with
some resolution, as she turned to her
bureau drawer.
And she did show them. On the
next day a great envelope addressed TO
Miss Jemima Martha Sprague came IN
with the package of lesser favors, and
Miss Jemima suddenly found herself
the absorbing center of a new interest
an interest that after having revolv-
ed about her awhile flew off in suspic-
ion toward every superannuated bach
elor or widower within a radius of
thirty miles of Simpkinsville.
1t had been a great moment for Miss
when the valentine came in,
and trying one when, with genuine
old-time bushes, she refused to open
it for the crowd
How she felt an hour later, when,
in the secrecy of her own chamber, she
took from it's new envelope her own
old self-sent valentine. only He who
has tender knowledge of maidenly re-
serves and sorrows will ever know.
There was something in her face that
forbade cruel pursuit of the subject
when she returned to the family circle,
and so, after little playful banter
ing, the subject was dropped.
But the incident had lifted her from
one condition into quite another in the
family regard, and Miss Jemima found
herself unconsciously living up to
younger standards.
But this was ten years ago, and the
mysterious valentine had become a
yearly fact.
There had never been any explana-
tons. When pressed to the wall, Miss
Jemima had, indeed, been constrained
to confess that certainly every valen-
tine that she had ever gotten had been
sent her by man" chow sweet and
sad this truthD
"And are all the new ones as pretty
as your lovely old one, Aunt Mimie?"
To this last query she had carefully
replied:
II ain never get none tibet amt
every bit an grain ez purity ez tibet one
not a one"
AN why don't you show 'em to us,
them"
Such obduracy was indeed hard to
AS the years passed, II her brother
began to suspect, he made no signs of
1t save in an added tenderness. And,
of course, he could not know.
On the anniversary upon which this
little record of her life had opened, the
situation was somewhat exceptional.
The valentine had hitherto always
been mailed in Simpkinsvnle-her own