The Lamar register. [volume] (Lamar, Colo.) 1889-1952, 1915-10-20
The LOVE LAGGARD
BY JOHN ALLARDYcE.


nothing but an author. He never
aimed at anything but the scribbler's
trade. but he had that fatal fire which
cannot be quenched. though 1t can be
dampened. For fifteen years he had
toiled. struggling to win fame and
achieve success.
At thirty little squirt Of popularity
with his stories had enabled him to
turn to novels. But here he failed dis
mally. The critics roasted him un.
mercifully. They condemned the very
qualities which John aimed to put into
his book to please the public.
For at thirty he had suddenly grown
worldly wise. Lesbia had come into
his life. and to make enough money to
marry her he had thrown his ideals
overheard, trying only to write the
sort OF tales and books that the pub
lie wanted. 1t was fatal error. but
excusable, John believed, under the
circumstances. He awoke to realize
that he had sold his soul, and he had
not been paid for 1t.
For his first two novels were utter
failures, and his publishers had re-
lubeu " hCCSpl NhS lHllNs
Then the iron entered into the mans
soul He sat down and wrote the book
that he had always wanted to write.
He hardly stirred from his room dur
ing those two feverish months. But
when the manuscript lay before him
he knew that he had at last achieved
what he had always hoped to achieve.
He sent It to his publishers and
went to see Lesbia. He meant to tell
her about his long struggle for her. to
ask her II she would share his life,
that OF a failure. And he always re
membered her look, her words. sobbed
out despairingly:
You waited too longi You should
have told me years agoi am en-
gagged to be married."
At once the mans plans fell crum-
bling into ashes He tested the bitter.
ness of life in all its fullness at thirty.
1--WE. He left the city that day and
went into New England. choosing the
most secluded village there. He de
voted the small capital that remained
to him to starting small poultry
farm and garden. That was a year
ago. He had dropped out OF the lives
Of his associates. None was dependent
on him. Nobody would care what hap
.ened to him. And he resolved never
to set pen to paper again for literary
use. He kept his vow. too, though AT
times the old impulse was strong up
on him.
A neighbor came to him. waving a
newspaper.
Say, Mr.. Rochester. there's some
thing about you In the paper,
reckon" he said. handing him the
sheet They got your photograph on
the front page. Hain't done nothing
have YET"
mo, l don't think So" answered
John. taking the newspaper. AS the
old man had said, his photograph
stared out from the front page. and
under 1t was his name.
There was a long article accompany.
Ing 1t. 1t said that John Rochester,
the famous author, had at last been 10
Gated in Massachusetts, after the
world had been honeycombed for him.
He learned that his book, Hearts De
sire," had been published and was the
hit of the season, both In America
and in England. 1t had been trans
lated into seven languages. And John
Rochester was in Massachusetts, all
the while, keeping bees and cows.
Here followed long and fanciful
sketch of him
The postman, on his morning round.
let of young lady at Johns gate.
81 amt got 10 mail, Mister Roches-
ter" he called. but / guess you'll like
this party most as well. She was In
quiring for you particular. Mister Ro-
chester, and so l gave her lift. I'll
be back in half an hour, miss" he
added. whipping up his horse and driv'
ing away in the shaky postman's cart.
John. emerging from his cottage
door, found himself face to face with
a charming young woman in a new
hat and fashionable dress. For mo-
ment his heart leaped; he hoped it
was Lesbia. Then he recognized her
one OF Lesbia's friends. who had
been a good friend of his once. before
she passed out of his life.
why, Mr.. Rochester" she eI-
claimed. And so you have been found
at last. / was-was visiting some
friends at Cedars, and came over ex-
pressly TO see you on my way home,
and congratulate you. And now you're