The Florence daily tribune., 1899-02-13
ONLY A STORY.

7
ed air. A group of listless, lounging
farmers was outlined against the un-
painted wall of the depot. the stolid
look of Indifference upon their faces
seeming to make them akin to the
shriveled grass and dropping clover.
That they We're really hopeless was not
without cause The summer had been
hot and wretched and desolate. The
corn had dried before it came to tassel.
the wheat had rusted and the meadows
drowned before the haying time.
Game Denton took off his iaunty
straw hat and leaned from the window.
His quick eye took note of the express
sionless faces of the loungers and their
attitude of hopelossness. Poor dovilsl"
he murluured to himself wonder
what they have to live for anyway 4"
The keen eye moved ON past the I'M
painted buildings to the hot glare of
the sandy road. A child stood thrusting
her little bare feet into the dust and
watching him shyly under the shadow
Of her sunbonnet. Game whistled softly
under his breath-he loved child-and
was rewarded by shy smile. quickly
suppressed 10y the insertion of two little
brown fingers between the red lips.
The only bit of brightness in the land
scape, he Thought. and as the train
moved laboriously forward, ''and now
that Is gone, and he leaned back in
his seat wearily
He vas handsome fellow, women
would say-and really they are the
judges the world most honors-the
breadth of his shoulders and the depth
of his chest making one forget that he
was little short in stature Perfectly
formed, with the muscles of gladiator.
he was delight to the eye. Then his
face, clear cut, with high, noble fore
bead crowned with soft, wavy, brown
hair, Tho firm. square chin, the keen
blue eyes full of fire and intelligence
under straight dark brows. was remark
ably pleasing. One studying it would
say, "He is fnancier, practical, firm
born to success, but in the mouth
there was a contradiction of this-a
certain full Tipped tenderness which in
Dictated struggle with passion, the
kind which iiinrs reason to the winds
and gloats in possession.
Was there anything wanting in his
life that was necessary to happinessY
No, the world would say. Wealth. sta
ton. hosts of friends, We're his. Yes.
and love, All children loved him and
many women. He had sown good seed
and brought many broken life out of
darkness into light
He had never married-the reason.
perhaps, because of the nonappearance
of his ideal Several years ago he had
met woman. and several times during
the progress of their acquaintance he
had imagined that he loved her. There
was in her flashes of intellect that he
admired there was the deep, under
ground swell of passion that he secretly
loved in woman; there were the little
loving ways of speech and manner that
reminded him of his dead mother; there
was the desire to be helpful that touched
him and the Griseldalike patience that
hurt INN, for he felt his incompetence
to act as she would nave had him act
Yet there were moments-but she was
not heautiful-aBd he was an artist by
nature
The train whiried on through the
meadows barer and browner. Game
turned his tired eyes within. The crisp
PAGES + his magazine opened to a story.
Shadows. YEARLY his eyes Travelled
over its FIRST page as they had Travelled
over the dreiriness of earth parched
landscape. lie turned the second page
and. irown Of perplexity knit the dark
hrows jnis description How it
brought back days of long ago.
Caire laid down the magazine. 1t
brought it all back that time when al
most he loved woman He read en-.
Twas n simple little story of love and
faith sdd the love and the faith belong
ed - Che wonIan-is it not often sol
The man all hut loved a-.Waman who
was poor and plain, who had naught to
attract bat "a heart full OF sympathy
Ion Humankind. full of long;ngs for bet
ter things. full of an ungovernable
idolatrous worship for that which she
'ouid not attain.
The man had left her knowing she
loved him, successful secure in his own
strength to live his life alone-and the
woman loved on How her heart was
aid bare in the story What feryor,
what passion. what longing were ex-
pressed There was u prayer for the
loved one in every line-and the heart
break ut the end
Good GodH' he thought "Can only
a woman love after ALP
How weak We're his own emotions be-
side this. What Were ideals2 Did not
this suffering of another for oneself put
away all thought of them?
What a fool blind fool. he had been
not tn see that tho woman vu.s lraol yin,,