The Newport miner. [volume] (Newport, Wash.) 1899-current, 1910-12-01

Lilly AKIN TO instinct, laid them loose
| ~ together in a box with some maid
enhalr fern instead of arranging them
III the inevitably Depressing form Of a
masculine bouquet. Then he sat in
his study for full hour, pen in hand
and a sheet of paper before him, bit
ing his left thumb and staring at the
parcel he had made. Finally he wrote
seven words-"Wil you wear these at
| lecture tomorrow"
Another half hour of meditation fol-
| lowed, at he end of which time he
signed ''An Admirer'' to his note. Slip
| ped it into the box, snatched up his
nat and sailed forth. The clocks were
striking 9 as he marched resolutely
up the steps of the Ayres residence,
looked the servant who came to the
door sternly in the eye, said, with a
| steadiness he had not expected. "For
Miss Natalie and abruptly departed.
Three hours later he was in bed, with
the covers in astonishing confusion,
staring at the ceiling and applying to
the person Of one Matthew Bacon an
Infinite variety of the most undatter-
Ing epithets Imaginable
He might have known it! The fol-
lowing morning in lecture, when in
stinct rather than actual perception
told him that Miss Ayres had taken
her place across the aisle, he sum-
moned all his resolution and looked at
her, full and fair. She was bending
over her notebook with an appearance
of complete unconcern, and there was
not so much as the petal of a violet
visible about her from top to toe!
That day was celebrated in the an
nails of his class as that of "Bacon's
Great Crouch" He was, as his near
est friends conceded, positively unfit
for publication. For half the after
noon, seated on one of the campus
benches, he replied with acerbity that
too frequently merged into profanity
to all remarks addressed to him. He
became in short order an object Of
| derision. Groups gathered about him
and from a safe distance bombarded
him with sarcasm, as small boys throw
| peanuts at Gagged lion-to make him
AOo1. 1uC NI1u1ctA was E0dCu0u wien
the most irreverent of his tormentors
exclaimed. ''Who is she, Matt?" and
all the others echoed the inquiry with
| extreme relish. Then Matthew gath
cred his books and himself together,
and took his way gloomily to the IL
brary to the supplementary reading
| which the professor of English VIII
| had prescribed. Il was precisely seven
| minutes later that he opened his eyes
to their fullest capacity, drew a deep
breath and then said "Gad"
| Intuition told Matthew the story in
| Word-she had kept at least one of
| his flowers! Her supplementary read
! ing was naturally the same as his.
She had been in the library that day
| reading that book and to keep her
| place had left the violet between the
leaves. The spirit Of Matthew Bacon
| scared instantaneously into the sew
enth heaven Of delight. But she had
not worn the violets as he had asked.
| She had rebuked him for the imperti-
| nence Of his anonymous letter. He
was a cad. And the spirit of Matthew
| Bacon plunged promptly into the meth
| ermost abyss of despair.
| For fifteen minutes, which seemed
| like as many years, he sat, with his
| temples in his hands, gazing with I'm
seeing eyes at the lines before him and
| telling himself that there was nothing
| left to make life worth the living.
| Through his preoccupation he heard
| the voice Of one Of the library pages
| speaking to reader opposite to him
at the table.
"The librarian says he's sorry, miss,
but 'Purradize Lost is out. Here's the
other book you wanted"
In a lightning fash of thought Mat
| thew knew what voice it was thar he
would hear in reply.
ooh, dearv said Natalie Ayres.
"Well, never mind This will do"
| A phrase from something he had
read was pounding in Matthew'S ears,
in fragments at first, finally in one
connected whole, There is tide-in-
in the affairs-in the affairs of men
| which-taken-taken at the flood
| leads on-leads on-leads on to for
| tunev'
Hastily he tore leaf from his note
book and scrubbed message which
| would have been credit to boy OF
| ten:
| Will you forgive my rudeness in send
| ing you that ananermous letter? l DID II
| without thinking, and I'm terribly repent
| ent But I'm really all right indeed am.
| and my mother knows yours l was I'M
| der a kind of spell.
MATTHEW BACON.
Slipping this epistle between the
leaves where lay the white violet. he
returned the book to the loan desk
and then went back to his seat and
spent an apparent eternity upon rack
of mental torture. At the last moment
the voice of the page, informing Miss
| Ayres that she could now have "Pur-
radise Lost threw him into panic.
When he looked up it was to meet
| her eyes. For a moment they stared
at each other, Matthew turning from
mink to crimson and from crimson to