The Rich Hill tribune. (Rich Hill, Mo.) 1903-1911, 1907-10-03

could never marry Marie. for she was
a rich little lady. and her father Col
I Mason, while I was poor and only the
gardeners son. / a far In the wood
alone that day and threw myself down
on the messy ground. and fear /
cried. though I was past eight and al
most a man.
When I went 20 school in the town
close by. I did not see so much Of my
little sweetheart, for a governess
came to the big stone house to teach
Marie. But I used TO gather a bunch
OF flowers and then print a letter very
plain so she could read Il:
DEER MARIE:
Il LOVE YOU.
GOOD BY RAY"
These I would mail at the post oflce
IN the hollow tree. and Marie would
find them when she went out for a
walk.
One day, one sad. winters day, Mrs.
Mason died. The stone house was
draped in mourning. Poor little Ma
rie, how sad she wasl Soon her Ia
Their sent her away to stay with her
auntie and 90 to school. and I saw no
more of my childlove.
Years passed and !, too. went wa
10 school. My parents pinched and
saved at home that l might have an
education. and with what l Tas able
TO earn in vacation time, ] managed
70 20 through college.
Two openings we're before me when
I left college. One position would
take me far away. and. perhaps, bring
wealth and fame; the other would
keep me home with my parents and
command a fair salary. ! hesitated.
I confess. but / chose the latter. and
became the principal Of the village
school.
How strange Il seemed to be IN my
old home again. TO sleep in my cosy
room and enjoy the simple yet eE-
csllsnt fare my mother prepared.
My father was stn employed at
the big stone house. for Col. Mason
wished the place kept exactly as Il
was when his wife died. so the lawn
was always clipped. the walks and
drives we're trim and neat. and flowers
bloomed In the gardens and conserve
tories
In all my years OF study l had not
forgotten my little sweetheart, Marie,
though l saw her but onee after she
went away 70 school I often thought
Of the slim, bright-eyed girl OK rs. and
wondered II womanhood had altered
- -r.aah OK 50 lwU~ - knnam
and kind then. as we walked In the
gardens and talked OF old times. But
she would not let me write to her. for
she assured me her aunt would not
allow Il. Sut IN remember you just
the same" she said. and wen meet
again, some day" Had she forgotten
her promiseI
II was during my second year At
the academy that she came home. She
had been travelling with her aunt since
shO finished school. but the colonel
was not very well and had sent for
her my mother told me. How !
dreaded 10 meet heri did not so
near the stone house when learned
she had come. Ny childhood dream
had been very pleasant and | feared
a rude awakening. What was I, TO
hope for Col. MAson'a daughter in
marriage2 Ny parents we're proud o.
me and the position I held, but Il
would seem humble 70 her, an heiress
Ny only crime vas poverty.
Then pride came 20 my aid and I
said: "She shall never ven her scOTn
upon me; / viii leave her alone"
How pretty she looked when I met
her riding with her father. She flush.
ed and bowed. / wondered why she
flushed. Weeks passed, but ! steadi.
" avoided meeting her, I saw her at
church, ! watched her fitting about
on the grounds when I passed her
home. Occasionally she came 10 see
my mother. but that was always when
/ was AZ school
one day as I walked home from
town / met her Strolliug. with only her
large English mastin for company.
She was very near. ! could not 70.
treat vas obliged 10 meet her and
answer her pleasant Good evening. -
Il think you have forgotten your old
playmate" she said.
"oh. no" I answered. 4 could not
forget you"
Thank you know 20 few people
here that old friends are valued"
4 have been 10 very busy" { "a.
planned. that ! have not had oppor.
tunity 10 see you since you eame.
We're you going somewhere
mot IN particular. Prince aud
ere out Cor euF eo~nfutuugDal