The Wilmington daily Republican., 1902-01-03
THE LUCKY SIXPENCE
"Let me tell you your fortune, my pretty

Now knew ! was plain, and I said so.
"Ah no, pretty lady, but it's handsome
rs handsome does. Cross the gypsy's han
with bit o silver, lady, and It's not plail
you'll be, lady. All, but yer eyes are
sparklin', miss, and yer pretty lips are a
smilin', an it's pretty you are, you take tn
gypsy's word. Yere no plain woman witt
all them gitterin' teeth, row Of pearls
missy, and the di'monds is in yer eyes Fair
your color and fairs your complexion, IN,
| Queen of Hearts,"
| There's not heart in England that care
that for me- and | snapped my fingers.
And, in truth, said what thought in nj
good temper was lonely, dispirited, ant
"in the blues" Life was dull to me. NJ,
few friends seemed hollow, my companions
frivolous, my days disappointment, ane
my new hat was failure and vexation
bow, feather and brin--the thing was hide
Gus throughout. didn't care to live.
knew it was only my mood, but certain
ly "had the hump" as Archie would have
said. And even Archie didn't care one pin
for me. No, nor any creature born, either.
And that was exactly what was thinking
of and wondering about before l met the
gypsy at the stile. To be candid to myself
it did seem rather funny to me. ] am 28
and | bit my lip to think it. am plain,
certainly, for I have my fathers nose and
brow and big ears. Oh, ugly l must be, and
with Time, the brute! striding at my heels
to wrinkle mel shall soon be uglier. But
my figure redeens me. And there are no tall
er or better shaped girls in the parish than
my fathers daughters-1 don't care who
knows think it.
Besides, I can play well and sing better.
am good at languages. can ride or drive
anything; can scull and punt and play ten
mis-, and'I don't think I'm bad sort Of
girl, don't really considering.
If a little mean wretch like that Ada Han.
kin, or spiteful cat like Emily Whitlock
can do SO well-for there's no denying they
have both married catches--it does seem
strange to me that | am left so utterly in
the cold. And don't want catch. I
should be satisfied with the strong, true love
Of an honest man, let him but be gentle.
man. His mperfecions ! would accept
along with the man, and be thankful. Men
are mot exactly plaster saints" If they
were they wouldn't do for us women. | love
a man with faults. Why, Archie's faults
are just what makes me like him.
| shouldn't like anyone to know my
thoughts, but set them down, and again I
repeat that with all the yearning have for
sympathy, aye, and love, true love, pas
sionate, enduring love, it is sad 10 me to wan.
der on the road of life alone
Alone. | whose heart beats, whose pulse
throbs, whose life and soul and being would
so center upon man Of worth, as faulty, as
human as you will, so long that he be mine,
and his! That should be alone, say,
does seem unjust.
Now these were my thoughts when I met
the gypsy at the stle But would not have
anyone know them. 1t plcases my candor
to myself to set my ideas down, to see in
writing, and to dwell upon them critically.
Displeased as ! was with the world and
myself, confess, though l am above fiat
terry for am surely sensible woman, that
the gypsy's words in so far as they were
true, and only on that account, did give mo
some pleasure.
SO l felt in my pocket had nothing
there but my lucky sixpence, the one I had
won from Archie year ago in sweet
hearts bet. But no luck had it brought me,
and, since Archie himself cared no more for
me, why should I keep his sixpence?
brought it shyly from my pocket, half
blushing as paNed with the long.treasured
coin, and gave it to the gypsy.
She spat on it,
That's for luck, my dear" she said, and
dropped it.
There's hole in it, she said, solemnly.
'1f not, a sorry fate would be yours, my
dear to have dropped it. But there's a hole
in this. Its a sweetheart's sixpence, my
lucky LADY,"
She looked, staring into my face.
! think quailed, but held out my hand
as boldly as ! could, and said, in manner
peremptoriiy and even defiant:
There! IT is all nonsense, know. But
if you will, you may"
"Ah, lady. It's handsome hand"-and
there the gypsy was right, that knew. A
shapely hand is mine, as my dear mothers
was before me--"a handsome hand and
true heart, fair lady, my Queen of Hearts.
But it's not the heart will win a heart for
your heart, and it's not the hand will win
hand for your hand"
II know that" ! said, angrly, snatching
my hand away. "My hands my own, and
my heart my own and want no heart and
no hand but my own
But there lied.
IFS not what we want, lady, nor what !
We will. that governs women; it is Fate
We'll said, looking first at the gypsy's
bright orange handkerchief that bound her
,!ue-back hair and then into her ebony
yes, that were backer than backberries.
What is my fate, then? 1t is all foolish
tory, but what is my fate"
Out went my hand again, desperately.
She peered into it, the witch! until felt
belief in her powers, and b!ushed wit ex.
itement as waited for her oracle.
"It's not the heart, my lady fair, it's Des-
my. The eyes Of Destiny are gray, and so
re his"
And so," thought 7, with a bounding
ulse, "are Archie's."
"'rhe lips of Destiny are thin, and firm
nd cruel, and so are his"
| shuddered, for so were Archie's.
"And the way Of Destiny is this. Dye
ae? Roses on either side and flowers all a.
loomn' for ye, but thorns, too, and many,
nd the road straight, though a stony one.
10 on, yell meet your Fate. It's lucky
me-"
She threw my sixpence-her sixpence--
ito the air, and catching it as it fell spat
pom i for luck. Then she strobe on as if
ne were Fate. indeed, and leaf drifted
Y the wind-the sport Of idle chance, the
Rfle and toy OF Destiny.
looked after her with feeling lust a
ee bit uncanny and |, too, went my way.
The roses were on either side of me, wild
'ses, and the flowers Of the honeysuckle
ere sweet in the hedge. stayed TO gather
em and the thorns pricked my hands. II
as a long road, and straight road,rand
stony road, and by the signpost at the
rnng that very morning met my Fate.
1t was lucky one.
For there. waiting to declare his love and s