Montour American. (Danville, Pa.) 1866-1920, 1901-08-15
A MANS WAY.
BY Katherine Harger.

You was sick man, Mr. Clark.
When l woke Gran 10 stay with you
while / went fur the doctor Gin went
right long with me to saddle Nance al
staid right with me all the way, an
twas right smart step too. Mountain
seemed mighty long al steep that
night, Mr.. Clark, but l wasn't skeGr-
ed"
But, Bess that WAS too much TO do
for me. l would never have allowed 1t
had | known. or course, as / told you
before, you saved my life and-wsll, il
here isn't GingerH as the door few
open and a large reddish brown dog
entered. Tell me, Bess, what have you
been doing since l was here last sum
mer? Did you study real hard. as you
promised me you would, or did you go
to school all winter and fall in love
with the gentleman teacher, same as
the other girlsW
A flush spread over her already rosy
face as she replied: 81 don't know
much bout love, but didn't like that
feller teacher, an 1 wouldn't go to be
teached by him. The winter was mighty
long an lonesome some way, lonesomer
AN us'al. Bout all the 'joyments l had
was when l read your letters an the
books you sent me. Orter seen me
watch fur youh letters. 1 would go
down the mountain most ever night TO
see il | wouldn't git one. You dtdn'
write very of'en, but l s'pose you was
busy with all 'em balls an dinners an
things l read the books, all Of EN-
Some of 'em had mighty long words,
an | had to spell 'em out, an wen
ddn' know what they meant l jest
s'posed 'em. | liked that story bout the
kings sister best. Mary Tudor was her
name. Do you know, Mr.. Clark, IL
was beautiful an rich l would do jest
as she did. / would marry the man
loved, an If he didn' love Newell,
would make him, that's all; l would
make him. jest make him, love me.
am only a dumb, know nothin noun
tain gal; no one wants me or loves me,
an l can't do nuthin. Wen do want
some one to love me, they won't do 1t,
an can't make 'em, cause l am-jest
Bess, that's all"
81 declare, Bess, you're getting senti-
mental. Every one loves you. You are
a dear little girl, and-why, love you,
Bess. 1 often thought Of you when 1
would be out somewhere last winter. l
would see some girl who reminded me
of YOU, and l would think. She looks
like Bessie Carr, only Bess would be
prettier than she Is with those same
togs.' Sometimes in the office l would
sit half asleep and would dream Of the
Jolly times we had last summer-such
fishing and hunting trips and flower
gathering excursions. I tell you, Bess,
you're all right You know how to treat
a fellow. 1t seems a relief to get to the
mountains and you after putting In
season with SO many designing girls
one meets I'm glad you are just the
way you are. You're my wild mountain
rose"
1t was several weeks later. The trees
were filed with blossoms, likewise the
ground. The birds were singing joyous
ly In the branches. making the earth
seem unusually attractive, but not to
the girl, who sat with man and gin
ger colored dog beneath the tree. Her
face wore look Of sadness.
Don't look so down In the mouth,
Bess," the man was saying. "Of course
! am sorry | must 60. / hate to leave
you. In spite Of my sickness 1 have
had a royal time and thank you for it
have been wanting to have long
talk with you, Bessie, but have been
putting 1t off from time to time be-
cause-well, to be frank, Bess, was
conceited enough to think you liked me
pretty well; too we'll, you know. l
know now was wrong, and am glad
of 1t, for you are too good girl to fall
in love with a wild fellow like me. l
am glad you told me what you did yes
terday-that you would not be surpris-
ed IL I should get married, because,
Bess, that's what is going to happen.
am going to marry Mildred, the girl I
talked about when I was sick, the girl
YOU kissed me for, but she will forgive
YOU, Bess. Don't look so sad about II.
She will come up with me the next
time come to thank you for restoring
me to health and her.
"She is q splendid girl, and when you
come to the city you will pay US a long
visit, and you will like each other. /
know. Mildred will treat you right,
and you must come. You know you
often promised me you would pay me a
visit some day. BY the way, Bess, here
Is a little trinket want to give you to
show my appreciation of your kindness
when was sick. My mother gave 1t to
me, and would not part with It under
any other conditions" AS he spoke he
drew from his little finger a magnif-
cent diamond ring. and, taking the
trembling hand Of the girl into his, he
placed the ring upon her finger.
81 must 60 now. Kiss me goodby,
Bess." The dropping head was raised;
the kiss was eagerly given. "Remem-
Der we will expect a visit II we do not
come back this summer. I will write
you when l have time. Goodby, Bess;
Soodby, Ginger" But his words were
unheeded and his waving handkerchief
unnoticed by the broken hearted little
mountain girl, who wept a secret sor-
row upon the neck of Ginger, a dog full
OF pity and wisdom.-Pittsburg Dis
patch.