The Chickasha daily express. (Chickasha, Indian Territory [Okla.]) 1899-current, 1915-08-12
THE LOVE LleeARD
BY JOHN ALLARDycE.

he had never possessed. rohn was
nothing but an author. He never
aimed 81 anything but the scribbler's
trade, but be had that fatal fire which
cannot be quenched, though it can be
dampened. For fifteen years he had
toiled, struggling to win fame and
achieve success.
At thirty q 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 be had
not been paid for 1t.
For his first two novels were utter
failures, and his publishers had re-
fused to accept the third.
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 ihat he had at last achieved
what he had always hoped to achieve.
He sent II 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 failure. And he always re-
membered her look. her words. sobbed
out despairingly:
You waited too longi You should
have told me years agoi 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 fuIlness at thirty
five. 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 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 =
newspaper.
Say. Mr.. Rochester, there's some
thing about you In the paper, I
reckon" he said. handing him the
sheet They got your photograph on
the front page. Hain't done nothing.
have yer"
mo, 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 long article accompany
ing 1t. 1t said that John Rochester,
the famous author, had at last been To-
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. It had been trans
lated into seven languages. And John
Rochester was in Massachusetts, all
the while, keeping bees and cows.
Here followed long and fancifui
sketch cf him.
The postman. on his morning round,
let OF young lady at Johns gate.
Il amt got no mail, Mister Roches-
ter" he calico but guess yousu like
this party most as well. She was In
quiring for you particular, Mister Ro-
chester, and SO gave her lift. I'll
be back in half an hour, MISS" he
added, whipping up his horse and drfy-
ing away in the shaky postman's cart.
John. emerging from his cottage
door, found himself face to face with
q charming young woman In q new
hat and fashionable dress. For a mo
ment his heart leaped; he hoped 1t
was Lesbia. Then he recognized her
lone OF .Lesbias friends, who had
been q good friend OF his once, before
she passed out of his life.
Why, Mr.. Rochester," she ex-
claimed. And 50 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 |
coming back to town. aren't you? |
Everybody Is crazy to meet you and |
honor the famous author"
John smiled bitterly.
I've done with that sort of Iife.s he
answered. "No. I'm q rustic for good |
now. Nothing would drag me back to /
the city again"
We'll. Pm sorry" said the girl. "T
wanted yon to meet my frfend-such
a nice girl, and dying to know you.
There wasn't room for three in the
postman's cart. SO LETT her at the
corner. Won't you come?''
mo, thank you" said John grimly.
She gave me message for you.
She said was to tell you a man can
be too late and yet succeed. She said