Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-12-29
FORGOTTEN LETT Frs

Quite recently according to 1.-THE pub
lie prints" MIST Ex-l-t-d P-r-s-n-ge"
as Thackery would put it, had occasion
to regret the writing Of certain letters
He may. If this be true, console himself
with the reflection that there are many,
many others. There is a man in Wash
ington who, only the other afternoon, ex-
perfenced perhaps keener modification
over certain letters that he had written
than any Ex-l-t-ed P-r-s-n-ge" ever
did.
It was a rainy afternoon. and his wife
was doing some ante Christmas rummag-
ing in one of her old trunks. From that
trunk she plucked a package of old,
| rather faded letters. neatly tied up In
cerise ribbon, and then she came down.
stairs to where her husband was at
tempting to read the newspaper There
was certain malicious twinkle in hec
generally amiable eye.
You used to care for me in those days."
was her curious way of opening the con-
versation.
HUH" said her husband. looking up
vaguely from his paper What's that
Used to love me them she said. UNITY
| ing the packet Of letters and pulling ono
| of them from its envelope
What days? Whatchoo talking about?
Whatchoo got there?" he asked
r"oh. some letters" she replied placidly.
Some of your"
ooh. rubbish Matilda" he broke in
Please femme alone. I'm reading
Here's one of them written shortly
after we We're engaged" she went on un-
n nee II am not a wealthy man.,
| can, at least. my darling. strew the path
for your adorably dainty feet with wild
roses and poppies-
"oh. say he broke in. flag thai,
l n "ho fho ,,H
| this? Please femme lone. Can't you see
| that I'm reading?'
And here's another passage,", she went
your dear violet eyes feel. stirring with
| In me, the awakenings Of a new life. the
moving harbingers of something higher
Please cut 1t out. my dear" pleaded
| the husband. his face reddening. ''Horri-
BILE rot! Wish you'd femme lone"
Here's another one. written about
! forty minutes later-you used to write
me about nine letters a day then. you
| know. dear You say here: When hold
you In my arms, and fnhale the dewy
sweetbriar fragrance of your sunny hair
clasped Helen to his heart in the golden
''Oh. for Heavens sake, can that rot,
| won't you, please. Matilda?" the man
| begged, but it was no use.
| "And then you go on to say: Never
since the Chaldean shepherds watched
| their focks in the dusks and twilights Of
| the ancient world. has woman been wor-
| SHIPPED as l worship my Matilda. Never
since"
Great Caesar. what a muff. what a
muttonhead, I must have been" groaned
| the husband What a"
why, I think it's real NICE reallv,"
| said his wife. with sort of retrospective
smile on her face. Il couldn't under
stand a good deal that you wrote. Of
| course, because you know you were such
| a-er-nOr1d and StVliSh writer m
dear. but Wei, here is something
| that I understood. though: AT the out
set of the dear journey which we are
| to take, hand in hand. adown the flow
cred meadows of life, promise you that
never once shall you hear so much as an
unkind word cross my"
| Say. look here. Matilda, that junk all
runs for Sweeney. Please forget it.
| What the deuce is your idea in-springing
| 1t on me now, when-
This sounds nice. too: Those precious.
| lily-Whfte and hyacinthsweet hands of
yours shall never have to be soiled
Tell you one thing-rm going o
twe e1S.t. out o here. Matilda, If
fathead and listen to you unreeling that
| You used to think so much of my ears.
| too. Listen to what you said of EN- here
They have the dainty. elusive tint of
! such a beauteous seashell as that in
which Venus must have risen from tho
| yea, and
There may have been worse Holsters
| than was when uncoiled all of mat
superheated steam, but if there were IL
hike to have a peek at 'em just for the
| And my nose, too, you used to be- SO
| fond Of Shaped like Clytie's and with
the most adorable little solitary freckle
| perched right on the bridge, and"
! It's hard to believe that I ever took
my pen in hand to scribble such internal
gibberish. Don't believe I wrote such
stuff at all. Don't believe l ever was
such a moody naddy as to-"
| And here's where you say: shall,
| idolize you even when you are old. and
when your dear head is all silvered over,
and the. little lines Of Times making
| are"
'That'n be about all O. that" said the
| husband then. bounding up. Me for QUE
OF doors. Swell gag, when mans fred
| out Of his own house ON a drizzly day.
Just because his wife insists upon" etc,
etc.
Then. and then only. when he was max
| Ing for his overcoat and hat. did she put
| the letters away, thus permitting him
| to sit by his own fireside.
| Why does-that is to say, why did any
writ 1off