The Hope pioneer. [volume] (Hope, N.D.) 1882-1964, 1903-02-26
dents and said it must be very dull here

terror belied him. He was only rude
and silly. She looked sadly at him. He
was leaning back with dropping eyes.
BEG pardon, but l have such a head
ACHE" he murmured.
Il am very sorry" said Jane.
"Jove, what a smile!" said the young
man.; ''it's enough to make a fellow
well again"
Jane rose. "There is my next part
ner," she said, stifly, and led the way
across the room. Never, never again
would Jane make a mistake about dash
ing young men with shadows under
their eyes.
So Jane had to begin her search
again. There came upon her horizon
an 1s-year-old %schoolboy by the name
of Robert Smith, tremendous young
giant, with blue eyes, yellow hair and
a face devoid of expression. Jane con-
v~ersationally sounded him. He was
sweet tempered and polite, but seemed
quite colorless in mind and heart.
Could not Jane tincture him to suit
herself-convert this raw material into
a hero? She would try. Robert soon
got into the habit of seeking Jane to
dance because she did all the talking.
Then he began to take her rowing in
the afternoons. James heart begant to
warm to Robert. 1t was better to have
a man say nothing than to let him spoil
things with commonplace remarks.
She made him row her to shady hooks,
where she would take a little volume of
Lord Tennyson and read it to him. She
would gaze at him silently and mysteri-
ously. Robert began to be ~listless and
pale. The silence and poetry and ad-
grafton of Jane were ~enervating him.
But whenever he made an attempt to
take anyone else out rowing James
eyes would give him to understand that
he had stabbed her to the heart; so
poor huge, sweet-tempered Robert
was finally bound hand and foot. He
followed Jane all day long, let himself
be read to, quarreled with, admired,
and often showed sparks of real m
ton. Still Jane was conscious of a
of disappointment. It washeavy
work-this dragging of Robert through
the proper PAGES.
At last her homemade hero was
obliged to leave. Jane frightened up.
Here was an opportunity for a touch
ing farewell. That afternoon she and
Robert rowed to a beautiful little is
land where, on a moss grown bank
above the lake, they watched the set
ting sun "for the last time," as Jane
said.
"Robert, let's carve P. L. on this log"
she cried, enthusiastically.
"P. LIP" said Robert, in solemn as
constituent.
eyes, for Paradise LOST"
"What's the joke?" he asked.
Jane felt it would be useless to ex-
plain.
The next morning as Robert depart
ed on the little steamer Jane watched
until she could no longer see shining
On her hero's coat the silver heart she
made him swear to keep for her sake
always. Then she gave a little sigh Of
relief. Robert, indeed, was heavy
work.
Jane felt that she was either
one of those to whom real love never
comes, or that since romance was dead
she would not continue to be it's sole
upholder. She began to join the other
girls in singing coon songs in the even
ings, and to play tennis with a shaggy,
red-haired college boy. She often
made attempts to go to. the Lost Para
disc and mourn in pensive solitude,
but this red-haired boy was always
getting up a party to fish or dig for
worms, and dragged her with them.
The red-haired boy was ugly, head
strong and had no ear for Tennyson,
but he had a smile like those for which
comedians on the STAGE have been
known to receive large salaries.
One day the hotel guests hired the
little steamer and toured the lakes fol
a picnic. The red-haired boy sat by
Jane on the back deck and made puns.
At luncheon he beat a boy over the
head with a chicken bone because he
didn't pass the cakes to Jane. When
it began to rain, as it always does at
picnics, he seized Jane by the hand
and made her run along the road un-
til she begged for mercy. Reaching
the steamer, he pushed her into his
~overcoat, wrapped her feet in a potato
sack and composed himself beside her
to play the banjo all the way home.
It wasn't at all romantic, but very
pleasant in it's way. Jane wished she
had not wasted so much time looking
for a heroic hero.
"How long do you stay here?" she
asked.
"Till tomorrow" he answered.
"Only tomorrow" she cried.
The ~red-haired boy stopped singing
and smiled at her. He wasn't such a
very ugly boy. "Sure; on the $3.50
boat. Wave your hand as we go past"
he said.
In the early morning following Jane
was walked by a loot from the steam
er. Jumping out of bed she seized a
towel and tapped it from the window.
AS the boat rounded the corner she
could see the sunlight shining on the
red-haired boy. He waved his straw
hat-and he was gone.
Jane crept back to bed and wrung
her hands in pleasurable anguish. ITO
think I loved him all along" she said.
"and never even knew it.'-Columbia
Literary Monthly.
The Black Can.