The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1899-05-02

nm - the lashes of the
big brown eyes and n childish voice
exolaiming:
II brought you such beautiful
bouquet because l love you, dear.
walked miles TO get it. Do you like
it, and will you keep it forever'n
ever?"
Like it?" Words cannot express
how muoh 1 liked it-then.
That was years ago. One would
think L had orgotten-sometimes 1t
is better to forget-and yet, at times,
these hot hearts Of ours play us such
strange, freakish tricks, one wonders
how they can belong to quiet, self-pos-
sessed worldly people For 1 am
woridly-there is no use of denying
1t; IN fact, rather glory in it.
Some old maids take to fancy work
with cnt End parrot attachment;
some devote themselves to church and
sewing societies, but I settled down
to work-and work would surely put q
quietus on sentimental nonsense.
If there be not love and happiness
in our lives-and these things are
blessings that come to 30 few-why
not be something to and of the whole
world. This bright, beautiful, fasci-
mating world that we are so loath to
leave, and yet would never have en-
tered had our wishes been consulted.
81 bring such beautiful bouquet be-
cause / love you, dear" sounds ms
clearly in my ears tonight, as it did
more years ago than / care to re-
member.
Tom was eight and / was six and a
half, and, oh, how we loved each other
In the days when we used to go to
housekeeping regularly, every morn
ing after breakfast, III the little old
summer house at the foot of the hill.
Tom sat on sofa inverted soap
boxl and made believe smoke a cigar
and read his paper Ia stray leaf from
old Mother Goose), aud l tucked up
my curls with big hairpin-we had
saved our pennies to buy-aud baked
enormous sand pies for our lunch.
Afterwards lie always went down
town to his Office and worked very
hard, and | dressed up magnifcently
In the remnants of an old red table
cloth and lolled on the sofa lat least
part of me lolled; the rest hung over
on the floor and 1 nearly broke my
poor little back over the edge of that
horrid box; But Tom said it was
grown up to Toll" so the lolling had
to be done) until he came home from
town with my bouquet. He never for
got it, and l always loyalty vowed to
keep it forever over" Sometimes
1T was dandelions, that / laboriously
picked TO pieces leaf by leaf to see if
he did truly love me, and, when the
woeful words came to the final petal.
The loves me not" Tom would stamp
his foot and scold-"Poh! Katie.
flowers don't know, love you more'n
million bushels Now kiss me this
minutel Cos mans and bows inst
likes to be loved when they's all tired
ont working, like / am. Then that
bouquet was thrown away, but the
clover or wild flowers or even thistles
Loyalty wore the rest of day.
How this long dried bouquet has es-
capped the rayages OF Time-oDly Fate
knows; but it occupies secret drawer
IN my desk and sometimes ] take il
out and live over again those old. de-
lightful, thrilling days 80 full OF love
and happiness when Tom was q grown
man at eightat. such splendid loverl
- NsCPAAo WtAe NAB AtNAhtoIt ny eyes
the brightest and my kisses the sweet
est Of any girls in town, for-Tom
aid 80.
He also said that made the best
sand cakes and he ate them, like a
good husband ought, until one day
when he nearly choked TO death on q
pebble and that frightened MS 80 he
never again could be persuaded TO
touch any Of my baking; and he mado
me dress in mourning piece Of black
calico he found in the garret-just 20
see how badly would have felt If he
had really died.
IL was dreadful 7 had 10 CRY and
sob. Tom said widows always did.
sob loud, dreadfully loud-until / al-
most made myself sick about it: for he
made me keep that up for O week and
cut OF few inches Of the black calico
every day. Tom said / Just couldn't
get out Of mourning too quick and it
wasn't nice Of me 20 want TO- But az.
ter that i stole the bread and lam for
our luncheons. Tom made me. He
said one funeral was oil a woman
ought to expect Of q man and he
wouldn't choke himself 10 death again
for any Womanl