Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1919-09-16

-, Florida.
June ,27, 1919.
NY Dearest Deane:
You are the limit. Well let it go
at that until I get ready to tell you
why. I didn't write to you, nor even
the folks / was coming.
I just came as. went, sudden and
unannounced. After reading your
hurry-up letter one came from mama
Mcfarland, saying, 'Margery, I'm an
old woman. My day is done. I write
these words in my bed, because I'm
too i'll to be up. Now, I'm not ask
ing you again to come home, but
when you decide to come, you're well
come. Deane's been down and it
brought old memories home to me.
to complete the picture. Margery,
[ guess life's been too much for me-
And followed more in the same
minor strain. All in all, twas too
much for me, Deane! [ quickly pack
ed, threw up my position and caught
with another for the south! How
the hours drug along! And me wild
to see my boy-and the rest I'd left
so long ago! How little and utterly
insignificant my past troubles seemed
to me as I eagerly faced the south.
Pen of mine, nor my feeble at
tempts at putting all descriptive
words in the dictionary together can
never tell you how things happened,
but Pm going to do my best in order S1er
to satisfy your curiosity and that
story-loving soul!
rye wept with you. Deane, in your
sorrows. But your letters have made
me laugh heartily when you plotted
ways and means of getting me mar
then another. Didn't seem to mat
ter much who the unlltcky party was,
just so I'd marry him, thereby CIV
ing you a chance to write HAPPY
ever after" story about your Mar
gerry! $3.50.
story any old time you get, in the
notion. My one request is that you
hold off from the last chapter, be-
cause want to write that chapter
myself, with FThe End" aft1Xed as
silent sentinel, Witnessing SSH gond an
guarding that precious last endlns
to my story.
I had the usual sort of journey
to me. However, you could do q
story on it, I'm sure. Anyway,
arrived in due season and came In a
jitney to suburbs, then walked bal.
ance Of way. Somehow I fancied
maybe I'd run into my boy there
But he was in the yard playing
marbles. ! hesitated at the gate an am
wondered IL A0 COolO NC LAS pChOJ
Such a manly little boy! He. saw me
He looked at me wondering, Their
| His mouth flew open so funny. MY
eyes devoured him hungrily and my
| heart almost bursted with a queel
sort of pain. I'm not a novelist
else 1 might could describe VIVA
kind-My voice cried softly, Hugh!
| He stood there and we gazed at on
another. Just stared!
"It's my mammal! he cried.
MY baby! 1 held forth my arms
now we'll inside the yard:
' He came to them. And, | held hin
close-so, tight he's said' you hurt
Eyes. 1 hurt" I rel Piled.
| Thus we met again-my boy and
| Papa Mcfarland came to the door
Then joined us. Mamma was in bed
We decided to let Hugh tell he
first. Then, 1 went in.
Dearie, I can't describe it. DON
ask me! Just use your mildest i'm
aginative powers, and you can't G.
far wrong on that scene. thin
| her heart and my heart just melted
then sort Of blended into one as W
held on to one another, she clingini
only a dream liable to vanish tn
next instant, 1 caressing her, com
forting, promising never to leav
her again. Did we cry? I knew
| you'd want to know that! IL was
regular spring freshet, Deane, blu
and composed as any far blue SIX
| you ever saw in June after the storm
| clouds passed beyond. So with GU
life. The storm clouds past. Gu
blended tears washed away the las
trace until nothing's left only tran
gull, quiet peace that endureth for
| ever!
| And. now. YOU'RE wondering ahou