The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1900-09-28

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kind-hearted. That is what II did
for 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 winner of prizes.
AS Jonathan was In love as we'll as In
debt, and just as prone as / to substl-
tute pipes for meals when the larder
was low, we learned to love each other
during those four years with an afrec-
ton 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
Ike n camel's-hair shirt, there Is moth
ing so good as an old-fashioned love
letter"
The writer Of the old fashioned mis-
siyes lived out West, In Harrods ma
tive town, and, although / never met
Aer, II came to know her almost as well
as Harrod did, he spoke Of hC~' 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 lnspira-
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 ne would
dream a while, perhaps, and then fall
at his books and work like mad.
He showed me her picture one night.
She was dark-wlth a high forehead
and shadowy eyes. The mouth and
chin were both well formed but rather
masculine. II was 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 misunderstanding of some sort
or other during the summer that fol.
lowed his graduation. When lie re-
turned East the following autumn he
was quleter than ever before, and, If |
possible, more gentle and sympathetic.
lie ana had rooms together, where, In
lieu of other inexpensive pastlmes, we
were wont to spend the evenings work
Ing and redding. | saw from the first
that something allied him; and, as he
no longer received the blue envelopes.
nor counseled me to lose my heart, 1
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 1t.
Two years had passed away before
Jonathan had made even the slightest
reference to this love affair of his, and
mat was when he came into my room
one cheerless gray November after
noon, the picture Of abject melancholy.
In his hand was crumpled piece of
paper, This he placed before me on
The table, then he went and seated him.
self before the fireplace, where could
not see his face. The paper was a clip.
ping from some inland journal descrlb- !
ng In tiorld terms the wedding of Miss
Winifred Conover to one Amos Schen-
ack. Only half the article had been
clipped, evidently, and this had been !
lasted on half-sheet of note paper.
read the tawdry effuston through, then
twisted II to pieces and dropped 1t
nt0 the waste basket.
Jonathan, my boy" l said, going
ver and seating myself on the arm of \
lis chair, who sent you this thlngT
Il do not know" And there was n =
world of sadness In his voice. "The en- .
elope was addressed In strange hand 9
nd not word accompanied It," h
We were both silent for a moment. O
he logs were burning cheerily, outside r.
he wind was blowing gale Jonathan |,
at with his face in his hands. "When I
came here to you just now" he said. "
was chilled and lonely-the day Is e,
0 somber, and | had been tramplng b.
u over the country, and-wRll, came "
, say good-by. l wanted to leave this @,
fe and wait for Winifred in the next a,
1r'-~his voice went straight to INV G,
eart-"ah, Billy, love her sor' | re- W
arded him with compassion. ."You lie Fl
own here on the lounge before the II,
re-" commanded him, "and stop this h,
roodlng.p pushed forward the IA
)ueh as spoke, and he dropped on II ec
ke an obedlent child. He gave me one IN
Tateful look, and then, under the in hi
nence of the genial warmth and the II,
ltigue Of many vigils fell fast asleep In
There are days In the lives of us all Oh
fancy, when n vague and subtle sense is-
mystery invests the commonest OBJ.
cts; when our minds recognize new
lallties In common things; when the
ok In the eyes Of child, the CLINT of 70
might in woman's hair, the sound w,
distant churchbell, stir feelings ne
'ep within us we have never known si,
fore. That afternoon there was NJ
hlte farnation In the vase on INV writ. IN
8 table, and MS sat there bordering mn
nathan's sorrows its perfume stole
to my brain like sweet and potent nm
odyne. II conjured up visions as fair bo
the dreams of DIR, Faustus, and yet ob
ID yet there was a sense of forebod- oe
g, premonitlon of something about no
occur -"
Whether or not dozed cannot say, ac
{ suddenly was aware that some no,
ler than Jonathan was in the room, on
d that he was wide awake and look M,
at me intently. raised my eyes, nm,
d there, to my infinite surprise and 4
saw standing opposite or,
, across the table, stylishly gowned
lng woman.
started to my feet with an apology I
my lips, but as glanced at her face am
4. n