The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1902-04-19
The story 6)ith q sequel.

Copyright, 1902 by Daily Story Pub. Co
And now, Bot" announced the Rising
Young Writer, fitting back in his chair
from the table and confidentially address,
ing the ink receptacle, I've come to the
end of the story
The beautiful princess has been res
cued; the prince has undergone as many
hair-breadth escapes as we can really af-
ford to throw in for So, and the naughty
| ogre has been killed off by partaking of
| box of poisoned dragons sent anony-
mously through the mails An up-to-date
touch, that last, Botty, my boy"
) The container of writing fluid remaining
unresponsive, he continued:
Some folks say, Mr.. Bottle, that
writer always pictures in his hero him
self, but l doubt that. 1 guess my
heroes are mostly composite creatures,
with just enough of me IN their makeup
TO furnish them with movable joints, so
to speak, at the knees and elbows
but I'll tell you who poses for my
yillains-all of them acclaimed the r. Y.
W., with vehemence. Mister Dennis
| O. Smith, commonly called Denny. Fate
tried to conceal him, L suppose, but L
wish she had gone far enough to have
him born in settlement off the railroad
in Afghanistan, and made Afghanistan
an undiscovered island, and instigated
International laws against exploring
Denny is smiling, good-natUred chap,
too, and I could like him, were he not
fool enough to see the good qualities in
the girl 1 like, and to carry his audacity
to the point of liking her ALSO
Nothing being forthcoming from the in,
sensate vial, the r. Y. w. kept it up
with much satisfaction.
But let him smile and smiIe-he'H
always be my villains. He's been the
hard-hearted usurer, that turned out the
In
snow; he's been the faithless lawyer
that destroyed the will and left the right
full heir nothing but a mourning ring and
starvation He's committed every dast-
ardly deed from treason and arson to
boiling the straight Prohibition ticket;
and in our present story, Bot I've made
him the horrible ogre, a fiendish outcast,
and carried his degradation to such a de-
gree as to make him opposed to the
higher criticism, and in disgrace with
the administration.
Eve heaped indignity, contumeIv and
insult upon him. I've made him a victim
of moving accidents ~ field and food.
I've shufied him off this mortal coil by
every known means from the wheel and
rack to choking to death on a collar
button, Notwithstanding which, I invari-
ably find him occupying her front steps
or parlor sofa O. night on Tuesdays,
Thursdays and Sundays.
But never mind, Bot, I'm sure she's
mine
So what care I
Though Smith be nigh?
I'll live for Nan
For Nan I'll die
A knock came upon the door. The
| warbler arose and admitted, decidedly
| to his surprise and discontinue, the very
| lady, the subject of his imprisoned ditty
| and object of his affections. Perhaps he
wondered how thick the woodwork was.
| why, what on earth, Nan" he be-
/ gan.
II have something to tell you, Dick, -
replied the young lady, in tone that
might have been irmer.
| You must have But won't you have
| CHAIR"
| mo, it won't take but a minute" she
went on. Dick, I'm going to be mar
ried."
| Now Dick had often imagined her
| telling him this very thing, and himself
| nobly resigning her, acknowledging his
| own utter unworthiness, wishing her joy,
and so on. A quite human sort of picture
| and one that most lovers have sometimes
| conjured up. Nevertheless, it hit hrm
| hard, and the only speech he could frame
| was the very unromantic, yet natural
! question, ''Who to?"
'|You know-Denny'
4