The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1916-12-04
EVENING STORY
The Best Man Wins.
(By Susan E. Clagett.)

paved with good intentions, Faullne,
dear. 1 am afraid many bricks are
laid 10 my credit, for my intentions
are always good but fail of accom-
plishnent 1 mean to write. but some
how never do. This time you must
forgive me- for I am most unhappy.
And my unhappiness came from out q
clear sky Since then 1 have sounded
the depths. Blueness! Despair better
describes my feelings. Father is OBJ
durate Mother sides with him.
''It is nothing but pigheaded OBJ
stinacy in father. Any one looking at
Howard would know he is gentle
man He certainly is good to look at,
ana. of course. l think the sun rises
and sets in him. But father will not
listen when L tell him we are en-
gagged He merely gays: When you
care for a man, Jane, you can marry
MIN as soon as he asks you, but go
long as I live a make-believe one shall
never have YOU
What do you think he means?
Howard is a perfect escort. He dances
beautifully, sings divinely and sends
me the ioveliest flowers. l will wait
for a little while to see If father comes
around, and if he won't III run away"
July 10TH thought my letter had
reached you but have just found it in
my portfolio. When l wrote a month
ago l thought myself encompassed by
misery, but my feelings were as moth
ing to what they have been the past
few days.
Father told me I must break off
my engagement: that l should not see
Howard again. I stormed. He said
very littIe-just sat in his morris chair
and looked at me. L broke down and
cried. / thought had won him over
then, for he looked as if he was going
to cry with me. He didn't. He mere
ly said, Jane, put on your hat and
take a drive with your mother and
me- That was all.
81 told myself 1 wouldn't. But I
have never disobeyed father in my
life, and we started on that drive 1t
was a long one. 1t took us three days
to reach this place; little farm at
the end of nowhere, thirty miles from
the nearest railroad station! There
is no postoffice, no telephone, no car.
Il didn't find this out at first, not
until after father and mother had
gone. They wouldn't lock me in my
room at home, but, Pauline, they have
done worse. They have left me here
with two old people who lived with
my grandfather when Dad was a little
boy.
AS we were leaving home I re-
ceived such a dear letter from How
ard and it set my heart to singing in
spite of my clash with father But
now everything is black again. / do
not know the name of the railroad
Y.
name of the village postoffice, which
is almost as far. No one will tell me
and Towards letter has been a
month unanswered. What can he
think of me?''
July 2O-Pauline, dear, it is a
comfort to chat with you, even if my
letter has to wait forever and forever
to reach the office. I do get so hun
CRY for home news. Mother has writ
ten once, but not a word from Dad,
III Job oh r.1r s,.l.-
disgrace. Today Peter told me he
might go to the station for mail. If
he didn't, he thought Dan Isham
would take my letters. Whoever is
Dan Isham? 1 haven't seen a man,
except Peter, since father left me
here. I wonder, if he is as old and
wrinl<led as Peter"
July 21-He came before 1 had
finished my letter. Just an ordinary,
farmer sort of person with overalls
tucked into high boots, a coarse fad
ed blue bingham shirt and an old hat
that looked as If it had come out of
the Ark. He took my letters without
a word, but as he saw Towards name
on the first of the bunch he gave a
little start and looked straight at me.
He has nice eyes. 1 saw that, altho
he turned them away at once. 1 WON
der what made him look at me SO
queerly when he saw Towards name
wonder what he thought of me. I
had on that green sprfgged wolfe you
say is SO becoming. 1t must be, for
Howard told me 1 looked like a pic
ture in it,
August 10TH am seeing a good
| deal of Dan Isham. He lives on the
next place, wherever that is.
HE isn't bit like Howard, but he
knows where to find the loveliest wood
flowers, and this morning showed me
| the cutest little open-mouthed baby
| birds; hooking birds, he said they
were. Tomorrow he is going to bring
horse and teach me to ride. No.
can not quarrel with him.
| August 20th-That is just what q
| have done. l told him 1 had received
no letters because 1 could not send my
address and asked him the name of
the postoffice.
He refused to tell me- He said if
my father had wanted me to know he
would have told me himself.
Il glared. Then 1 flew into a pas
| sion. That didn't move him in the
least. He merely said:
/" L think 1 will let you have 1t out
| by yourself. When you are in a good
humor let me know" and off he
| walked.
Let him knowl I'll talk to the dog
and cat and chickens first. Oh, If
could only see Howard. I am so un-
happy
| August 24th-Dan didn't wait for
me-. He came this morning and asked
me to walk to Kings Creek with him.
7 don't know what got into me, b
| felt / must talk of Howard l told of
=, our engagement, and how determined
father is that it shall be broken off,
but that / was determined to marry
| him when I came of age.
| " And when will that hep he asked.
| Your appearance this morning sug-
gests nothing so much as that of a
pretty. spoiled child of IA
| Spoiled child" / gasped. I bit my
lip until the blood came to keep back
the words. But I had had three days
of my own society. 1t was not enjoy
able. 1 could not control my voice.
| however. SO I turned my back on him.
AS 1 did so 1 caught sight of some
thing that turned me cold with fright.