Cheraw chronicle. [volume] (Cheraw, S.C.) 1896-2005, 1913-09-18

knew that grandmother valued 1t
highly-eo highly that she had never
allowed It to be used, but had kept 1t
on the high shelf among her most
cherished treasures. She had always
suspected that some Of srandmotheTs
treasured relics were kept hidden IN
It But when she opened It It was
empty. and only the faint odor of
dead rose leaves betrayed the fact that
it had contained anything but dust.
We'll keep-what shall We keep in
It, WHIP" Mildred asked.
Our love letters" responded VIII,
promptly. THAT 10, II 1t is big
enough. But isn't it strange, Millie,
that desk of this size should have
such q very small interior? 1t almost
looks as though It might contain
secret drawer"
There does seem to be lot OF
space underneath the drawer" said
Mildred. lingering the edges Of the
desk. why. Will. IL rings quite hoi
low. Just tap 1t and listen"
It certainly did ring hollow. And 1t
did seem as though there were some
second drawer under the first But
the cunningly arranged veneering
gave no evidences Of any opening.
Will tapped and tapped in vain.
II guess there isn't any secret
drawer, Millie," said Will, and set the
desk down upon the table with q
bang. And then q curious thing hap
pened. The Jar apparently set some
long devised spring to working, for
the whole front Of the desk flew open,
revealing a little, fiat compartment i'm
mediately beneath the drawer.
A single sheet Of yellow paper, GOV.
cred with faded writing, lay there.
Will looked at 1t and then snatched It
up and began reading.
Will" exclaimed Mildred reprov-
ingly.
But I must read It," he exclaimed.
Look at this signature-it is that OF
my grandfather, Ebenezer Hurlbut
It may be some long-lost will.
But 1t was no will. 1t was letter
addressed, to Grandmother Penderby,
and 1t ran as follows:
my Dearest Own Elizabeth:
Your cruel words to me today,
though they have sorely wounded me,
cannot quench the passion for you
that burns in my bosom. So, since
you have said that this unhappy mis-
understanding Of ours must end our
engagement, since you have forbid me
to approach the shrine and alter OF
my devotion. shall place this within
your mothers writing desk, hoping
that some impulse will draw you hith-
er, to open the little drawer you once
showed me, and to find this outpour-
ing Of my soul. Elizabeth, you cannot
mean that we must part for ever,
that you will bestow your priceless
self upon that dullard, Nat Enderby,
for when your marriage bells ring out
my life will become unbearable to me
and I shall end this wretched exist,
ence. Without you, life will become
impossible.
IT'LL time shall end. thine,
"Ebene8er Hurlbut.
"Jan. "a, 1857"
VIII Hurlbut folded up the paper
and looked at Mildred. Her eyes were
moist and her lips were quivering.
1T must have lain there unnoticed
these fifty years and more" she said.
1--WE must not let her know, now
NO." answered Will, and, tearing
the paper into strips, he let them fut'
ter slowly out of the open window.
WILL" said Mildred, presently, do
you remember the date Of your grand
fathers marriage?"
1T was in the spring Of 1858, l
think-it must have been, because my
father was born that Christmas"
And grandmother was married IN
the summer Of 1857. 1t didn't last
long, this desperate passion, VIII!
But, dearest, do you know what grand
mother told me once-it was just after
our stupid quarrel? That when she
was young no girl ever dreamed OF
quarreling with the man she was en-
gagged to marry"
Will laughed as he kissed her. "Oh,
we'll, 1 guess that human nature was
pretty much the same in those times
as 1t is nowadays" he said. But,
Mildred, dearest"
"Will?"
Think how lucky It is for us she
didn't marry your grandfather. Be-