Daily Arizona silver belt., 1908-11-26


 this awakens memories of such power?' He threw down his paper, donned his overcoat, and, lighting fresh cigar, strolled out into the crisp evening air.
 Somehow he could not rid himself of the memories called up by the honey cartoon. The full moon was just com ing up, and it's brilliancy recalled the sleigh-rides he had taken with Susie by his side. One particularly glorious night when the sleighing was perfect and the moonlight seemed to envelop them in a silver flood, driving home from trip to a neighboring town, he had mustered courage to tell her what she already knew, and they made mutual pledges to last through life.
 Then there passed in review other pictures from memory's store house, pie. lures of welded life, of hopes, of joys, of sorrows shared; memories, too, of bitterness, of fault-fnding and recrim- ination; of eauseless jealousy; of her failure to appreciate his purposes. aims, and ambitions; of his lack of sympathy with her narrow vision. Finally came the memory of bitter parting, when he went his way alone, while she ent back to the old farm house that had sheltered her girl hood.
 His heart became very tender toward that blue-eyed Susie, and he began to realize, fnow that it was too late, how a little more forbearance on his part might have brought larger sympathy on hers. "She might at least have trusted me" he muttercd as he recalled her foolish jealousy that had so often caused the bitter quarels; that, as years went by had made their home hell. Still, try as he might, there would come the feling that his was the greater fault He was strong and she weak, and it was his duty to recognize her Limitations and to make allowances. Often in anger at some outburst of jealousy on her part he had purposely done things that other wise he would not have dreamed of, done them in n spirit of retaliation for her doubting him, acts that caused the flame of her jealousy to rage more fierce ly; and the process of drifting apart had gone on, aided by village gossip, until had come the final tragedy and one more home was wrecked To be sure. there had been no legal separation. They had merely parted with bitter words that ranked in each heart, and each had been too proud to make a move to. ward reconciliation.
 Absorbed in his thoughts. Morton had strolled far beyond the business dis trict and was passing some unpreten- tious homes when his ear was greeted by the sound of voices raised in song, accompanied by an old-fashioned cabi- net organ. The words were indistnct but the tune was unmistakable. It was one of the simple old hymns that many times he and Susie and the rest had sung in the old days. Again the ar tist, Memory, began to paint pictures of past scenes. The old days seemed so sweet, the eral causes of separation so trivial, that he found himself thinking. "Is it final after alli' Involuntarily, his thought voiced itself in the lines of the poet:
 "Tho We repent, can any God give back The dear, lost days we might have made
 so fair,
 Turn false to true, and earlessness to
 care,
 And let us find again what now we
 lackeV
 With sudden resolution, he turned about and walked briskly toward the city.
 ''It will do no harm to try" he said to himself. 'tWho knows but what Me Cuteheon s cartoon may have set her thoughts in the same direction and made her heart tenders"
 On reaching the hotel he went at once to his room, and the letter he wrote was a long one, full of love and contri. tion called into being by the homely cartoon, and it began "My dear wife Susie.