Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1903-03-05

uXM make an effort to re-
sumo my writing.
EkreS== 1t often happened, even
in the moments of his greatest success
es, that Raymond"
At this point my friend, the painter,
had come in and carried me off to the
theater.
Why on earth could he not have Sc
lected some other time?
So many things might happen to
Raymond, who was little better than
a fool. anyway.
| haven't the slightest idea what
was going to write.
And that maddening drip, drip on the
window sill!
All! The bell rings, a welcome inter
ruption. Probably it is the postmaster
And that old fool of a housekeeper is
away or asleep, as usual
| must go to the door myself regard
less of appearances.
When Raymond" has made its
great success l will have better estab-
lishment.
The postman it is, with a package
marked: Samples. No Value" | tear
off the wrapper and find a glove box
bearing the name of fashionable Ber-
lin shop.
Inside the box is pair of silk socks,
black and white pin stripes and my
monogram worked in white silk on the
tops. No senders name nor word of
explanatiOn-just the socks.
Now who in the world would be like
ly to send me socks? 1t cannot be a
mistake, for there is my monogram
and the socks are exactly of the right
size. In the clouded state of my brain
am about to give it up when sudden
ly there arises before me a picture of a
country house on the shore of beauti-
full lake.
All! have it. The little countess.
| had grown tired of my solitary
wanderings In the mountains, for man
Is gregarious animal, after all. Then
| suddenly remembered that my friend
Gustel in Vienna had said that II
happened near Vadles | must surely
look up his friend Sander, who had a
country house there.
Now the saying my friends friends
are my friends" always struck me as
foolish. might like Gustel and yet
wonder what in the world he could see
to like in Sunderland Sander might
have the same feeling in regard to me.
But then | am a pessimist, | thought,
and perhaps Sander is not. So looked
him up.
He was no pesslmist. He clapped me
on the shoulder and said: IF you're
Gustel's friend you must be a good fell
low, II you do live in Berlin"
And he carried me off to the tennis
grounds and introduced me to a dozen
people.
They were jolly good people, all OF
them, rather superficial and a trife
loud, but not vulgar. Then It was that
| met the little countess. She was q
delicious little blonde with a mass OF
curly hair and big blue, baby eyes
She had been married two years, but
In her bright silk waist and short blue
skirt she looked like schoolgirl.
She whistled, she smoked and she
firted. Her husband was not expected
for several weeks. He was with his
regiment in Vienna. She had a swarm
OF admirers whose homage she accepted
as II II were matter of course. tried
in vain to find any evidence OF especial
favor shown to anyone. Being by ma
ture suspicious concluded that the
right man was not present. Soon, how
ever, | began to suspect from her stol-
en- glances that I might be the right
man.
She received my first advances In a
friendly, | may say encouraging, man
ner. Clearly the field was yet open.
There must be a first one, I thought,
and why not | as well as another?
| am cynical? Yes. Women have
made me so.
Life was gay in Valdes. Riding, tent
ing, boating and other sports filled up
the fair days In bad weather we as
sembled at the Casino or at one or an
other Of the cottages. Once we met at
the countess, where she lived with a
deaf old aunt.
On that occasion we had our first
long conversation. She wanted to know
all about me and my work. Where did
find my models? Had I met my last he
roine In the flesh? Had | ever written
anything - anything like Zaza," for
instance? II was light and airy con-
versatlon, and yet thought dlscerned
a deeper meaning behind her apparent
frlvollty. We disagreed on some ques-
lions Of morality and the singular
thing was that her views were far more
liberal than mine.
Tho ptbaV orttagNo hoI rraaa apd A.
old aunt, thinking our tete-a-tete too
long, asked what we we're talking
about.
The countess shouted a totally false
explanation into the old lady's ear, and
turned to me a face convulsed with
laughter. 1t had grown dark in the
room, and the red light Of the sunset
threw a glory on her as she stood by
the window. Her face was radiant, her
hair bright gold, her eyes sparkled.
She looked like Bacchante-and she
had not told her aunt what we we're
talking about! All this was promising,
but still | held back. was not yet sure
OF my ground.
The next day was fine, and party of
us went across the lake to the island,
where the church with the wishing bell
stood.
The bell rope hangs freely down to
be pulled Of all men. II a single pull
makes the bell ring three times, and no
more, the wish will be fulfilled. It is not
so easy as II looks.
AS everybody has something to wish
for, the bell is kept ringing from morn