The Hartford herald. [volume] (Hartford, Ky.) 1875-1926, 1919-01-15
THE veneer Of THE YEARS
BY WALTER CREEP.

DelOfe the udy DcVdnit tOU WdFtu iOT
tn picking. Strawberries tasted
good on lovers lonesome journeys.
At any rate she walked sadly along
trying to get the tears started. But
they would not flow. They we're
stubborn, those tears. But Saman-
tina was no exception on this point.
For ourselves we are willing to give
the palm to the girl who can sue
cessfully cry over fancied sorrow
on a bright spring morning with all
the world in tune.
But by and by she came to the
Academy. When she looked upon
the tall building, standing so lone
somely among the green trees, and
thought of the happy moments she
had spent there, the tears started
into her eyes. Just started, how
ever, for she brushed them aside
with her handkerchief and seated
herself upon the grassy campus.
All. this was the ideal spot for
reading and musing surh as she
had in view! She opened her
lunch basket and took from it an
old dried lilac blossom, kissed it
lightly, held itsagainst her cheek in
way that beggars description and
laid on the grass beside her. Then
she took from the basket book
and opened it at place where the
corner of the leaf was turned down
and the page was stained with tears
The book was bound in cloth and
printed on coarse paper in big type.
1t was not textbook or history
as you may suppose. 1t was a nov
ell and more than that-a Ro-
nance! Not abook that touches
with gentle fingers the actually of
life and makes dark and sordid pic
lures beautiful to behold. Nor one
that idealizes the purity of human
love and strives to lift the reader
above the plain of craven passion.
1t was the kind of book that tends
to excite the emotions of the young,
to carry them away from the Real
into the realms of the Impossible,
to hold before them an ignus-fatus
and incite them to rash deeds.
Such books as delineate the truth of
things yet space the Real with a
touch of the Ideal are truly uplift-
ing, but Samantha had ceased to
read them. They were too stale.
She sighed when she began read
ing. Her glance sped to the build
ing, over the campus, and around
about to see that no one was listen
ing, then she read: ''In the still
afterglow, safe away from the hum
of the city, Arthur sat dreaming of
his sweetheart far away. He could
see her as he had. seen her last, in
the little white frock with a rose in
her hair, when she gave him her
promise that she would be forever
true. He could hear her voice
when she whispered so softly a
last goodbye. After all the years
that they had been apart, in his |
memory she stood incarnate before
him. o. dearest. dearest Pearl! he
cried in soul-agony, wiping the
perspiration from his aching brow;
are you true to me still? Tell me,
dearest, tell me-"
Samantha sighed a long sigh. |
Turning over the leaves of the book
she soon came upon the climax and |
her favorite passage: "And that !
night in his dreams she came and !
stood beside him and administered !
to him. Often she bent low and |
kissed him gently. But at morn
ing she said, Now, Arthur. l must
go away One more kiss he
cried aloud. When the doctor
came in that morning he found him
raving in delirium. That night,
still murmuring her name, he pass
ed away"
When she finished reading this
she laid the book aside. Her heart
was full to the overlooking. She
arose slowly and stood looking to-
ward the Academy, tears fairly
streaming from her eyes. Then
she stretched forth her hands
and said in a sort of
chant: 20 Merlin. are you dream
ing of me this morning, far away in
the city? Never fear, / am true
and will always be. When you
have achieved success, return and
you will find me waiting STILL
Then she beat her breast like she
had once seen a motion-picture
heroine do.
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