Virginia citizen. (Irvington, Va.) 1891-1921, 1904-11-04
HER HERO
BY LILLIAN c. PAScHAL
Copyright. 1904. by Lillian c. Paschal

There aren't any heroes nowadays
hence my own celibacy."
Nell was nineteen. 81 want a ren,
man, one that can do things"
This with lofty scorn and a curl OF
her red lips as she thrummed her gui
1r In the light OF the campfire. There
d been a light scud OF snow during
the day, and the air was chill, though
II was August, but Yellowstone park
Is no respecter OF calendars.
Il can do one thing, love the most
tantalizing little witch that ever walked
all over a mans heart"
Jack Stanley sprawled on the thick
carpet Of pine needles mt her feet
glanced up half pleadingly, half quiz.
alcally into the pouting face of the
email autocrat of the camp. why
wonx you marry me7 Your father
wishes Ii. / have enough
Yes, L know" she interrupted has.
lily. You have all the ordinary re-
quirements-wealth, position, good
looks, family" checking them Off with
her pink fingers, ''and suppose a rea-
sonable amount Of brains, though In
| 'NJ VI hNAh6 lht1 dIe HeeQeQ 80
little that She paused suggestively.
well. then, what's the trouble? You
haven't yet said the only thing that
VIII send me away like the other TEL
lows-that you don't love me-dcar.
AS for the hero business and oil that
rot
| 1T isn't rotw exclaimed Nell fndig-
nantly. Il know you think me school
girl sentimental. I'm not. IFS rust
THIS: You men when you aren't impos-
side are ali SO much alike these DAYS
can't differentiate. You're like your
ugly black clothes, all cut by the
same pattern and apparently from the
same cloth. How can a woman single
out one OF you and feel that he is the
one above all others to love and to
cling to in sickness and In health
| Til death us do part" he finished
low.
why don't you do something to
make me love you? 1 want to. 1
can't" She stamped her little noun
tain climbing boot holly. eve don't
get at the realness OF life. A true.
primitive instinct Is unknown to us
all Even our pretended roughing II
TOT the novelty OF the thing Is On ar.
anciaI sham. We come In a special
train Our tents are filed with hair
mattresses, down quilts and .Nayatoes.
You must have French valet to dress
you each morning I'm that brave khaki
suit or yours, which never saw real
service and never will My tailored
short skirt came from Paris and is
SILK lined. Do you know my grand
rather went over that old Mormon
trail down yonder to the south with
an OK teamf And my grandmother
walked beside It most OF the way.
Id like TO marry a real pioneer, true
history maker. That's the kind Of
man L could love. He'd be a hero to
me If he didn't have a dollar and had
never heard OF the twostep."
Nell held her flushed checks and
shining eyes for one Intoxicating in
slant up close to his own. then turned
like fash and ran back among the
white cleaning tents to her own lux
urious quarters, where a sleepy maid
waited her coming.
The man picked up her guitar and
held II lovingly like a child in his
arms. 1t was hers, and he loved II
Tor her sake. He know he could feel
all the primitive instincts"-the long
ing for wifo and child and the warmth
OF home fire instead OF the cold
splendor OF his club-but how mako
Nell see 1t and respond to It?
Long he sat there by the ashening
embers, while the tall, stately pines
tossed their fragrant censers and I'm,
toned their mournful chant above. and
the cold moon lit up, one by one. the
ghostly pillars OF steam which rose
day and night from the geysers and
vent holes in the Fire Hole basin he
low.
a huge black bulk came numbering
from the deep shadows back OF the
camp and skulked near the commits
sary tent, whence presently rose n
SOUND or falling tinware and the OBJ
turgations OF the French chef as bruin
ambied away with paws and laws
sticking full OF the toothsome con-
tents OF the butter tub.
AS bruins sticky footballs padded
heavily down the slope a slow grin
overspread Jack Stanley's face. He
stood up and blew an airy kiss to the
smiling moon.
"She wants a real paan, ehf Well.
sweet Mistress Nell has always had
what she wanted, and she mustn't be
disappointed In little matter Of hus,
bands.''
he called a servant to put out the
IRE, tucked the guitar under bis arm
and strobe on TO his tent where be
slept the dreamless slumber OF a ZEN
eral whose maneuvers are all planned
The next evening they were all
grouped about the campfire which had
been repienished, mountain fashion.
with whole logs drawn and stacked
across It's first k1ndlIng flame by
team OF horses. The little party. chap
eroned by Neirs mother. who drowsed
on Folding easy chair. sprawIed about
the fire. recounting the days adven-
lures and the wonders OF the park.
Two or three kodak enthusiasts soon
rose to go to the dark tent TO develop
their snapshots
"Give us a song. Nell" begged Jack
Stanley. handing her the guitar. "Sing
that old one--oid songs are best suited
TO things primeval." teasingiy. so
let's have In Days Of Ola, a Warrior
Bold and oil the rest of it,"
THAT'S mans song" retorted the
girl. But since The rest of INA
sentence was left 70 his Imagination,
and Nell bent her bright bead over the
beloved instrument and fingered dam
thy the stirring accompaniment to the
old ballad. But her eyes Were lifted
challeDgingly to his when she reached
the ringing refrain:
"I'll live for love, I'll live for love
and der
Suddenly deep growi Numbered out
OF the dense darkness behind them. |
All eyes turned startled toward great (
black mass slowly emerging into the |
glare OF the campfire. jones and Trent |
beat hasty retreat toward their tent
to get their rifles they explained eager
II afterward-and every one was too |
hue kAz., o. ~