Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1909-09-03
MRS. DARLING'S
LOVE LETTER.


She had kept all of them-every letter
received from her husband before her
marriage; not with a view to their pos
sible production in court by scofiing
man of law; there had never been any
danger of that, for if good and true
lover ever sighed in this world, his name
was John Darling.
No; they were kept because they were
treasured-tied up neatly with ribbon
of the palest blue, the whole locked away
securely in the recipients most holy of
holes.
To Mrs. Darling, as to the majority of
married women, there came one day the
painful reflections that her husband was
getting tired of her, and that as the
years went by he would care still less
for her 1t was this wise. John, who
was in a desperate hurry to catch his
train, had forgotten to kiss her before
leaving their pretty little cottage. In
consequence, she cried until her eyes
were red, then sought consolation, or
perhaps inspiration, in those old love
letters. One of them seemed to fit her
present trouble so aptly that she put it
in her pocket.
After dinner, when John had settled
into his easychair with cigar and a
book, she produced the epistle
John, DEAR she began, and her lips
'quivered, 81 have a letter here which
you wrote me on May /, 1901. | am GO
ing to read some of it. There are four
teen pages.
My dearest pet whisper isn't that
nice, John? You don't often call me
pet-whis ~ now"
The guilty fellow started and laid
down hi gar.
when / kissed you goodbye last
night she read on, you said that
shouldn't always want to kiss you when
we parted. Oh, you doubling darling.
Your name ought to be Thomasina'
Though the sun sink down to chaos,
Though the stars no longer shine,
Not oblivion shall stay us,
/ shall want to kiss you, mine
That's very pretty, John. Did you
compose it" she interjected.
Il suppose So" John rejoined, rather
sheepishly
There isn't any more poetry in the
letter, dear" she continued relentiessly
but there are thirteen more closely
written pages of very poetical prose-"
"But why are you reading it," John
interrupted, just trife sharply His
tone was really not tart, but it sufficed
to let loose the flood.
-didn't-kiss-m this morning
before you-you-went to the Office" she
replied, sobbing with astonishing sud
denness, but apparently with the great
est ease.
81 am sorry, DEAR" he said. II was
in great hurry, and | forgot. / shall
remember in future He meant that.
SO one new use for the old love letters
began, but did not end
For every little difference of opinion
on the most divergent subjects Mrs.
Darling produced chapter and verse from
the scented sachet in support of her
views. Did John wish to 90 out for a
brisk brain clearing walk, letter was
found in which he had pledged himself
never to do anything of the kind alone,
and Mrs. Darling was not much of a
pedestrian. Between him and a most
desirable club she interposed a letter. A
keen desire to play golf was countered
by letter backed up by tears Indeed,
the scented sachet resembled the tool
box of master workman. The very
thing required for any and every posi-
BILE purpose of his trade is there.
For month or more John Darling
bore the infections patiently. Then he
began to think. and a keen business
man is not in the habit of wasting
thoughts.
With the customary weekly parcel of
books from Mundle's. Mrs. Darling had
received copy of The Trouble of Mrs.
Newbride." John Darling was so greatly
interested in this particular volume
that he actually sat up until o'clock in
the morning reading it, or pretending to
do so. But whether he read the book
or did not read it, Mrs. Darling serious
" thought of seeking in the scented
sachet for letter to fit the case.
However. instead of doing so. she
started to read the book as soon as John
had come to the city next morning, her
object being to discover in what the
great attraction lay She had not
skinned many pages when u letter fell
from between the leaves and fiuttered
to the carpet Had it been a $50 note,
she could not have bounced upon it more
quickly.
1t was written on thick cream-laid
paper in strikingly bold feminine hand.
There was no address and no date, but
the ink seemed decidedly fresh. she
read it, after the first start of astonish-
ment, aloud, with mental comments:
"'My best beloved Jaeko-,JaekoY
Why, that's John! / used to call him
Jacko when l was q girl There's no
body else has right to call him that.
Why, what can it mean? I know YOU
can't be happy living with T. L.?
Why, that's me! Oh, it's dreadful
And l am writing, as you asked me,
to tell you that you can take me away
from home as soon as you like. know
I no N rnaln rn,, hn nr,,- e An. .L....4