Delaware gazette and state journal. (Wilmington, Del.) 1883-1902, 1900-04-19
A SECOND LOVE DREAM.

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John Davies Anderson In Chicago News.
Simon Walton was blowing in his
back orchard. 1t was still warm,
although tho nights were cool and
nleasant--that time of the year when
summer is present in the MONDAY hours
and autumn in the evening. As he
worked away, keeping the gray horse
in the furrow and the brown Just out
side, he could look across the Pohat-
cong valley and then half way up the
slope beyond where the gable Of a
white house was partially hidden by a
pine tree. AT no season CT the year
could more of the farmhouse be seen
from Mr. Walion's orchard, and in the
summer. before the fall Of the first leaf,
no trace of il could be detected.
After a-time the farmer, who was at
least 60, stopped TO rest. He seated
himself on the piowbe and with his
hands pressing against his chin. looked
steadfastly toward that distant home,
as indeed he had been doing at inter-
rails all the morning.
1T don't stand to reason could
ever love Cynthia Snyder as did Mary
Hendricks. That's out of question
beyond superstition. But do think a
great deal Of Cynthia and Mary has
been dead these five years. If I'm ever
to forget" But he did not finish the
thought
"No doubt people look at me as go
along the road or when they see me in
church and think what fool am and
what a foof-and bigger one, too
Cynthia must be to think of me seri-
ously. But not one of them knows how
feel toward her, nor can one of them
say that wouldn't be good to her.
They know me we'll enough To know a
darn sight better, and, If l do say it
myself, there amt better farm and
buildings and stock in any part of
Warren county than is right here.
II don't know as / blame them so
much for what they say, though. I'm
old enough TO be the girls dad and
she Amt no spring chicken, either.
Then, too, went to school with Jim
Snyder ard have known Cynthia ever
since she's been. Maybe I'm a loon TO
think about her and sne's bigger one
to think of me, but where's the harm?
And it's nobody's business but our
own, and especially now as Lottie is to
be married along next spring some
time. In that case I'D be left alone If
she goes to the city to live. -
Mr.. Walton, when he had finished
this deliheration, arose from his i'm
promised seat. threw the lines about his
waist, and with a ..get ep'' TO the
horses commenced his task again.
The life of Simon Walton had not
been an eyentful one. His early boy
hood and young manhood had been
spent in hard, uphill struggling, but a
struggle which he had faced with tue
bravery, although sometimes disappoint-
ment had been bis portion. At 2S he
had married Mary Hendricks, bright,
active young woman of the neiehbor.
hood. and she had proved to be an
ideal choice-a devoted housewife and
mother.
Five years before this fall morning
she had died, and then after the
funeral insthe little church her remains
had been borne to their last resting
place In the graveyard. The sound .of
the brown earth falling on the casket,
the dust to DUST said by the minister.
were the saddest sounds ard words TO
which he had ever listened. Her last
good-by, spoken few days before. had
been but a shadow of the grief which
followed. 90
Mr. Walton tried to find comfort in
looking beyond the grave, but his eyes
seemed to meet nothing save three little
beadstones-Fannie. Edgar, William,
they were inscribed-childfeu who had
passed away before they came to know
what the world meant. se S. ST.
One by one the little black.ciad proup
had melted away until only the parson,
Lottie and Mr.. Walton remained, but
they too had taken thor homeward
way, and again the cares of life were
resumed, but at first aimest without
heart. But he was not comfortless
man and the years since then were not
all one cup of agony and Bitterness.
Lottie, in whom he thought he saw the
vision Of her mother on her wedding
day, had grown to be young woman
a kind. tender-hearted creature whose
highest instinct had been to please
her father.
On the next round he halted, 'to
think some more. ~
There's none who can dispute that
Cynthia would make good wife. OF
course | never thought a word about
her as long as Mary lived, and not for
three years after she went to rest but
nov it's different and different circum.
stances make different results. -
When Mr.. Walton arose again he
looked longingly across the valley for
perhaps the thousaudth time that
murning. Nothing moved about the
place, and all seemed silent and at rest.
Cynthia, care-I love you-and will
be over tonight to tell you so. !"
Then be gathered up the reins at once.
tyau tal IL r.
"a half-smile which showed nothing
but happiness of being. u
1t was nearing the dinner hour, and
before long Mr.. Walton heard Lottie,s
voice calling from the rear porch, but
at that distance he could not detect
the sorrow that was in the girls heart.
This remained for him to learn 10
minutes later.
My chfld-why, Lottie, what is it?
Tell me-" He had found her in tears.
only, father, that he does not love
me. Here's his letter, with-with
his" But the last word of the SEN
tence was smothered amid her sobs.
well, child, that's-that's-o
don't know what to say to help you -
BY this time he had taken the note
from her trembling hand. My dear
Miss Walton" it commenced, II am
sorry to be compelled to write what
must; sorry for yon because / have
waited SO long, but itseemed better so.
As you will remember, We had an un-
Outstanding this summer, but so much
has happened since then, so much,
indeed. that the fulfilment OF that
promise is an impossibility. Indeed,
in ths same mail which takes this you
will receive cards for my marriage to