The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1899-02-23

Ter wIde-open eyes that-.~y f-putto
falling was well known evCu IN that
quarter. l lett a message hat my rose
gardens were at the ladies disposal.
and fed.
That morning / had put the finishing
touches on my new work, Roses and
Their Cultivation" and for want of
something better TO DO began novel
Before | had proceeded far | knew it
would never see publication. for II was
a partly imaginative account of my
own affairs. and as progressed l be-
gan 10 weave little romance about
Phyllis and myself. foolish thing for
an old bachelor to 90. of course. Then
| decided 10 wait, at a certain point,
and let the situation develop itself.
1t developed rapidly the next day;
ia the morning | received a daintily-
written note from Mrs. Sterling eX-
pressing thanks for the roses, and in
viJing ne 10 tea for that evening. /
accepted the invitation. it is needless to
relate, and it may be Of interest t. add
that | did myself credit. They ,liscoy-
cred that | was quite equal 10 such
d social function, and ! trembled not.
neither did | grow purple in the face
and stammer."
Things went merrily for several
weeks. | saw Iny neighbors frequent
Iy. and Phyllis and often talked across
the dividing wall from our respective
gardeus
Then. when had rescued my reputa
ton from the clutches of Mrs. Pea
body by my own courage and persever-
ance. that courage failed me at The
critical moment.
How was | going to inform Phyllis
that | didn't want to be a bachelor
any longer? | was sure it was matter
Of no consequence to her; | dreaded
to appear in the role of an ancient
adorer. I'm not so old, after all.
could see Genevieve's mirth ready to
break out al any unguarded moment.
Mrs. Sterling was evidently s!mpa
thetic, but Phyllis-she was inciffer-
ent. As my only consolation flushed
up that novel with a happy ending.
placed it in one of my littie blue covers,
and buried ii away, with many sighs.
in drawer Of my desk, with several
others similarly bound. and straight
way forgot all about its existence.
One day Phyllis begged me TO allow
her - read the original manuscript of
Roses and Their Cultivation" before
t was sent oil to the publisher. De
lighted to fulfill her wish, | went to
my study and seized the desired vol
ume, which ! gave TO her. Then hur-
ricd TO catch The afternoon train TO
the city. a. ] had some urgent brginess
10 trausact there.
The next day. perceiving Phyllis il
the summer house, went over 10 see
her. Before had been mere SIX min
u:cs knew something was amiss. She
seemed ,m mbarTassed, and although she
kept her tace turned away / could see
that even her little ears were deep
pink Her Voice, usually so frank and
clear. responded TO my commonplace
remarks in low, hesitating tones
well, Miss Phyllis, did you enjoy
The manuscript?'
Very m"ch," came in scarcely audi
BILE tones.
IF you care for il you may have
that copy. as [ have another can send
10 the publisher" | continued, cheer
fully.
\ pair o startled eyes met mine and
a dazed voice repeated:
The publisher? Surely. @. surely,
AIr. Gay, you never intend to publish
thisl"
She held out my supposed treatise
on Roses" and, shades of my ances-
tors, on close inspection recognized
that novel! In my haste l had given
her the wrong manuscript!
Phyllis was evidently angry. If ever
q bashful man was in tight fix, | was.
| first calmed her anger by explain
ing the mistake; told her had only
written the novel for my own amuse-
ment, for which imprudence | now
humbly apologized; then, blind as |
was. did not notice how sad her face
became as ! continued:
Il never intended you TO see it, of
course it is all fiction, pure and sim
pie. especially simple. Every word Of
il fiction"
"Ol only fiction, Mr.. Gay?" she
said. trifie stitfiy.
Then my good angel turned ray of
light into my darkened mind, for an
swered promptly, with the courage of
my convictions;
1T is in your power to make it truth,
PLY Wills VIII you, dear?"
And she murmured "Ges."1Credite3
In Chicago Tribune to Exchange