Bonners Ferry herald. [volume] (Bonners Ferry, Idaho) 1904-current, 1908-12-12

<SA eyes, and his white hands. small
and nervous-looling. were as well kept
as those of a woman.
He was thirty, and a splash Of gray
on either temple, strand or two OF
white In his mustache, made him look
older.
He was broad-chested and muscular
by all rules-he should have been a sol
dler--he looked an "open air man, but
for FIVE years he had been writing short
stories, novelties and serials for the
weekly press.
1t was good, nervous work His name
was becoming known, for he had the
happy knack of blending pathos with hui
NOR. He had travelled widely, and an
Australian bush idyl at the beginning of
the week would be followed again by
story OF rustic life in the dear West
Country that he loved so well.
He lived quite alone. worked-and
smoked-from morning to night, loved
his profession, and had practically drop
ped all his friends-male and female
and when a fit OF the not infrequent
blues got him by the throat. threw his
pen into the CRATE and ordered up his
landlady's children. and pandemonium
reiRueu Tor an nOur.
Sometimes he gave them pennies, but
not always-small coin OF the realm Is
not always available to authors-but the
romps were huge, and he enjoyed them.
or course there was a woman at the
bottom of the tangle of the mans life.
and women comphcate things sometimes
he would have said always"
On one particular evening he was alone
and writing, when Jim Courtenay was
shown in-and Jim was an old and tried
friend-about the only friend the lonely.
self-absorbed man had. and 30 the in
conner sat down and lighted his pipe. and
did not bother the author for quite a
quarter of an hour, and then Noel rose
and stretched himself.
what is 1t this time, NoelT
"Oh. the usual thing-leve; and can
didly | am getting so sick of writing
love stories"
"Ahl you feel like thaiT
MAN alive, this is Christmas Eve, and
somehow-somehow- thoughts went
back with jump, and | remembered one
Christmas Eve when"
your pipes out, NoelP'
AYE, so it is. Well. there was one
Christmas Eve when"
my dear boy. are you worrying about
her still?"
Eyes" and then long pause
1t is the privilege OF chums to sit 81
lent for a spell.
"And all this happened four OF FIVE
years ago. | never heard the rights or
wrongs of the story"
Noel crossed the room, and digging
both hands into his pockets. looked at
his chum.
There is nothing to know. After the
four happy years of married life. trouble
came between us, lies came between us;
and--and--here l am and it's Christmas
Eve. or course our baby was only a
mite--a wee. blue-eyed, golden-haired
mite; couldn't walk, crawled, you know
but we were awful chums. and when she
went and took our mite-well," and the
mans laugh hurt his own ears. well,
then | took to writing love stories-love,
old chap. with happy ending-bishops,
bridesmaids, bouquets and blessings,
and'-his temporary excitement had left
him-he added dryly:
"And it paysl Now 90. old chap. l
must get my stuff done for the early
post" and Chum went out while Noe
turned again TO his interrupted work.
Between each line on every page
quaint turns of expression, quaint
thoughts haunted him, a dead past spoke
60 him.
The girl-wife had been very sweet
very lovable, very beautiful-and hac
marred two lives.
There should be a special place Of tor
ment for the person who deliberatel,
comes between two people who love eacl
other and smilingly warps two lives.
Pearl Clayton was as easily led a
a child, a soft, emotional, weak it'll
woman. and when Noel returned from
few days holiday he found the hous
closed and Pearl and Baby had depart
ed.
Noel drifted for a little bit, the shoe
unnamed him terribly. but his pen wa
his sole source OF income, and it had I
be piled IL body and soul were to be KEEP
together, and In a very few weeks b
had, to some extent, regained his ments
balance, and his work improved.
The eve OF Christmas and the da
itself appeals to most hearts. and on thi
particular eve Noel kept thinking bac
and thinking back while he wrote.
How well he remembered the extrs
eized stocking ne induced the nurse
knit, and how .ulky it looked and fsk o