The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1904-09-30
THE DISTANT
DRUM
b. y. H. LANCASTER
Observation-Disclosures

"'Nor heed the rumble Of distant
drum" he quoted, derisively. Then he,
read the closing lines of her letter again.
Dear little girl forgive this stupid let
ter, I'm tired tonight, dog-tired."
Slipped up on yourself that time, old
fellow. No woman would write like that
-dog-tired'. Dear little GIRL And you
still expect me to believe that M stands
for Mary? So7 Let's see If Lottie can't
hold up her end of the line rather better?"
And smiling savagely he drew sheet OF
perfumed note nearer and wrote In the
large, angular characters the girls Of his
acquaintance affected:
my own dear Molly" distant ruttle
of doubt reached him. II it should be
woman? He laughed harshly. May the
gods mend my folly. I'll swear he is
man. He gives himself away at every
turn. Though why in reason he should
wish to pose as q woman-unless he is
a scamp-and that's what he is. And
dead to the drum, and the absurd1ty OF
his occupation, the over-driven man
plunged into an account Of society plums
that did great credit to his own faith In
his imagination.
Long years ago when he was q college
boy Charles Bronton had had q girl cor
respondent, but he realized that those
letters were not what q girl would be
apt to write to feminine correspond
ent, and confidant; and this was the
problem he had been wrestling with
ever since the taking tenderness OF q
Lullaby had lured him into writing
note of congratulations to it's author and
native shyness Of sentiment forced
him to sign this note Charlotte Bronton.
He had said what he felt an urgent need
of saying and his tracks were covered.
Yet the reply surprised him. 1t began:
my dear little lady" He Charles Bron-
ton, the stern man of affairs had never
been mistaken for woman before. In
the first sting of his pique the old love OF
mischief, he had believed long dead,
awoke and came to his assistance. There
was tempting chance to make fool OF
the other fellow-and stocks were good
just then. Bronton wrote such reply
as he fancied BETTING the pen Of dear
little lady," and awaited developments.
The answer that came promptly was
gravely gentle with a suggestion of ten
derness that stirred in him emotions he
had not felt since his mothers fingers
had been taken from his hair forever.
But he lodged the emotion and the
drum and sunk the sensation in care
less by glory, the fellow knows his
ropes. A little while the correspond
snce ran upon literature and the emo
lions in the abstract, but Bronton re-
membering hard those girlish letters of
long ago soon limited coyly desire to
know what the M in Mr.. Bosweils name
stood for. He had been told promptly
that it was not Mr.. Boswell, but a Miss,
and that the M stood for Mary. Hearty
laughter came to him for the first time
since he had joined the Money-Mads.
For M. Boswell's letters, in spite of that
cleverly suggested tenderness, had been
masculine almost to the point of tobacco
smelling.
what the deuce is he driving att"
Bronton grumbled, SOLDERING suddenly.
Was it an effort to force his hand or a
design to dupe a young girl. Bronton
had a business mans opinion of literary
chaps And as stocks took bad turn
just then his projected fun ended in a
grim determination to lead on Sound
rel to his undoing He laid on the young
girl thick and sweet and evidently she
won upon M. Boswell. The replies he
received took on a more openly, tender
tone, quickened with CHEEKY hope that
it heartened one to read. Charlotte was
soon cut down to Lottie or simply my
dear'-which last sometimes caused a
ruff1e from the distant drum. Bronton
was forced to yield grudging admira-
ton to the fellows skill, his gradual
approaches, and the tenacity with which
he held each gain of ground. This let
ter had begun my DEAR" and so full
had it been of a strong, sweet patience
that once or twice during the reading of
L the distant drum had drawn near
Suppose it should be a woman, woman
who could understandable kind of wom-
IAN he had felt the need Of when things
went wrong But at that ending. But
at that ending "dog-tired" he had hard
ened his heart in bitter disgust-at such
bad acting. Now for lot Of girlish SYM
pathy and not little girlish love and
we will see what becomes of Mary"
A reply came by return mail: my
own dear little GIRL" he read. "Your
sympathy was very sweet, but it made
me feel like a, thief in the night"-ah,
ha-t'for matters were not nearly
so bad with me as I evidently
led you to believe"-oh, bosh-1
wonder If you realize what your
letters have come to mean to me-like
open. sunny places in the thin woods
of life. Do you remember the woods
where Rinaldo strove-fiend possessed?
don't mean that my life is nearly so diff
tlcult, but I'm an impatient beast and
when I cannot make all earth and half
of Heaven go the way I want, there is
nothing left but swearing, and that
avails little save grudging sort of self
contempt'-true, true, my dear sir. Don't
I know. But you must know naught of
the fair sex If you fancy that they write