The Kootenai herald. [volume] (Kootenai, Idaho) 1891-1904, 1900-10-12


kind-hearted That is what it did
Tor Jonathan Harrod. In the early
days we had roomed together In col
lege-I was going to say slept together,
but Jonathan seldom slept. He smoked
and drank coffee and worked instead,
and blossomed into winper of prizes.
AS Jonathan was in love as well as in
debt, and just as prone as | to substi-
tute pipes for meals when the larder
was low, we learned to love each other
during those four years with an affec-
sion that was firm and confding.
Jonathan used to advise me to fall in
love, too. IL tell you, old man." he
would say, when opening letter of
familiar blue, when you are not feel
ing well, and the world CRATES ON you
like a camel's-hair shirt, there is moth
ing so good as an old-fashioned love
letter"
The writer of the old-fashioned mis-
sives lived out West, in Harrod's ma
tive town, and, although l never met
her, came to know her almost as well
as Harrod did, he spoke of her so often.
And then | used to watch his face
when he read her letters. They must
have been tender and sympathetic, but
withal dash of ambition and insplra
ton in them. No tale of village gossip
could have brought that light into jon
athan's eyes nor that fash of color to
his cheek. AT their conclusion he would
dream while, perhaps, and then fall
at his books and work like mad.
He showed me her picture one night.
She was dark-with a high forehead
and shadowy eyes. The mouth and
chin were both well formed but rather
masculine. 1t was a beautiful face,
though not pretty
Although Harrod had loved the girl
all his life-and she him, if there be
aught in the signs of the zodiac-they
had a misunderstanding of some sort
or other during the summer that fol
lowed his graduation. When he re-
turned East the following autumn he
was quieter than ever before, and, if
possible, more gentle and sympathetic
He and had rooms, together, where, in
were wont to spend the evenings work
ing and reading. | saw from the first
that something allied him; and, as he
no longer received the blue envelopes,
nor counseled me to lose my heart,
guessed the reason and asked no ques-
TONS He did not become apathetic-
Jonathan didn't His old habit of work
was stronger than ever. And now his
stories began to appear occasionally In
the magazines. and the dear public to
recognize his name and to read what
went with it.
Two years had passed away before
Jonathan had made even the slightest
reference to this love affair of his, and
that was when he came into my room
one cheerless, gray November after
noon, the picture of abject melancholy.
In his hand was a crumpled piece of
paper. This he placed before me on
the table, then he went and seated him
self before the fireplace, where l could
not see his face. The paper was clip
ping from some inland journal describ-
ing in horid terms the wedding of Miss
Winifred Conover to one Amos Schen-
eek. Only half the article had been
clipped, evidently, and this had been
pasted on half-sheet of note paper
Tread the tawdry effusion through, then
/ twisted it to pieces and dropped II
into the waste basket.
Jonathan, my boy" l said, going
over and seating myself on the arm OF
his chair, who sent you this thing?"
Il do not know" And there was q
world of sadness in his voice. 1.-The en-
velope was addressed in a strange HAND
and not a word accompanied it,"
We were both silent for a moment
The logs were burning cheerily, outsd,
the wind was blowing a gale. Jonathan
sat with his face in his hands. "WheI
came here to you just now" he said
81 was chilled and lonely-the day Il
so somber, and l had been trampin,
all over the country, and-well, l cam
to say good-by. l wanted to leave thi
life and wait for Winlfred in the next
for"-his voice went straight to m,
heart-"ah, Billy, love her sou re
garded him with compassion. You Ii
down here on the lounge before tn
fire." | commanded him, land stop thi
brooding." L pushed forward tn
couch as l spoke, and he dropped ON
like an obedient child. He gave me on
grateful look, and then, under the il
fiuence of the genial warmth and tn
fatigue of many vigils fell fast ASLEEP
There are days in the lives of us al
/ fancy, when vague and subtle sens
OF mystery invests the commonest oil
jects; when our minds recognize ne,