The Brattleboro daily reformer. (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1913-1955, 1915-08-02
The LOVE lAGGARD
BY JOHN ALLAEDYcE.

/
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 it can be
dampened. For fifteen years he had
tolLed, 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 I'M
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 a 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 it.
For his first two novels were utter |
failures, and his publishers had re- |
fused to accept the third.
Then the iron entened 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
whom 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 if she would share his life,
that of failure And he always re
membered her look, her words, sobbed
out despairingly:
You waited too longi You should
have told me years ago! l 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
! five. He left the city that day and
! went into New England, choosing the
! most secluded village there. He de-
1 voted the small capital that remained
| to him to starting a small poultry
farm and garden. That was year
ago. He had dropped out of the lives
| Of his associates. None was dependent
on him. Nobody would care what hap
| pened 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 q
| 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. Haint done nothing,
have ye?"
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 it was his name.
There was long article accompany,
ing it. 1t said that John Rochester
the famous author, had at last been 10
Gated in Massachusetts, after the
} world had been honeycombed for him
lie 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, al
the while, keeping bees and COWS
!. Here followed y long and fancifu
sketch of him.
The postman, on his morning round
let off a young lady at Johns gate
81 amt got no mail, Mister Roches
ter" he called, but guess you'll lik,
this party most as well. She was in
quiring for you particular, Mister Re
= chester, and so l gave her lift. II
: be back in half an hour, miss" h
> added, whipping up his horse and driy
ing away in the shaky postman's cart
John. emerging from his cottag
: door. found himself face to face wit
a charming young woman in a ney
:. hat and fashionable dress. For a me
ment his heart leaped; he hoped i
was Lesbia. Then he recognized he
One of Lesbia's friends, who ha
been a good friend of his once, befor
r she passed out of his life.
5 why, Mr.. Rochester," she e.
d claimed. And so you have been foun
e at last. / was-was visiting som
g friends at Cedars, and came over e.
1t pressly to see you on my way home
n and congratulate YOU And now your
FL coming back to town, aren't you
5. Everybody is crazy to meet you an
g honor the famous author"
d John smiled bitterly.
o I've done with that sort of life" b
l. answered mo, I'm a rustic for goo
81 now. Nothing would drag me back t
is the city again"
n well, I'm sorry" said the girl. :
y wanted you to meet my friend-suc
a nice girl, and dying to know yol
There wasn't room for three in tn
postman's cart, so l left her at tn
10 corner. Won't you Gomez"
n NO. thank you" said John grimly
" ''She gave me message for yol