Jasper County Democrat, Volume 11, Number 56, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 December 1908 — When Elizabeth Came. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

When Elizabeth Came.

By CLARISSA MACKIE.

Copyrighted. 190$, by Associated Literary Press.

“When the home is ready, Roger, send for me and I will come,” Elizabeth Atwood had said when her lover bade her goodby. Roger Blake had kissed her tenderly and gone into the western wilderness to make a home. He had little money, but strong hands and the sturdy ambition that overcomes stupendous obstacles. In spite of these assets live years passed away before the Wyoming farm was declared to be In readiness for a mistress. In the east Elizabeth taught school, sewed on her simple trousseau and enjoyed herself ns a healthy, attractive girl cannot help doing. Every week she wrote n long letter to Roger. One August day, when the five years had expired, Roger made a last tour of inspection about the ranch. On distant hill slojies his cattle grazed. Nearer home fields were undulating green seas of wheat and oats. Rustling cornfields spread away to the westward. In the midst was the home lot, the low house surrounded by vine covered verandas, grassy lawn nnd thrifty young trees. Flowers and shrubs had beeu set out the first year with loving care. The farm was paying at last. The poultry yards occupied a good acre. They were to be Elizabeth’s special care. All the hard, drudgery work

had been done by Roger, and now the home was ready. A month before be bad sent Elizabeth SIOO. He bad said be would expect ber on the 10th of August and would meet ber at tbe little station twenty miles distant. This was tbe 10th of August, uud Roger had not heard one word from his sweetheart. Nevertheless he harnessed the sorrel team to bis buckboard and started >rtb to meet tbe 12:30 express from tbe east. Before they returned to tbe farm they w v ould drive to the minister’s and be married. Roger whistled merrily as he rounded tbe sorrels before the lonely little station. Tbe station master sauntered out and chatted about the weather and the crops. There was a piercing shriek, und the express thundered along the platform. A couple of trunks were dumped from the baggage car, and a girl in brown alighted from one of the coaches. By tbe time Roger had reached her the express bad pounded away Into tbe west. The girl's face was covered by a thick, brown veil, but it was Elizabeth without a doubt. Roger knew the straight, slim figure, with its almost boyish freedom of movement, and tbe curve of dark hair at the back as she turned ber bead. “Elizabeth!” be cried exultantly as he grasped her bands in bis. “Yes,” she answered quite coolly. “How do you do?” “Fine," he said mechanically as he released h&r hands and fell into step beside her. “You have a carriage here?” she questioned. “Around on the other side. You are glad to got here, ain't you, Elizabeth? Or were you tired of waiting?” There was agonizing appeal in bis blue eyes as they reached the buckboard and be assisted her to a seat “It was a long journey," abe replied, with a puzzled glance at him. “1 suppose you are one of the farm hands?" “Elizabeth Atwood! Don’t you know me—Roger?” He turned his cleanly shaved, sunburned face toward her. She uttered a little cry and hastily threw buck her veil. “Who do you think 1 am?” she gasped. Roger Bloke stared. It was the face of .a stranger. Her eyes were soft and dark like those of his sweetheart, and her cheeks had the same oval framed la dusky hair. Save for these points •f resemblance there was no likeness between the two girls. Elizabeth Atwood was very pretty, but the stranger was beautiful. “I am afraid you are disappointed." she faltered at last "I am Elisabeth Wood, and I have come to visit the" Waylands. and I supposed you were oae of Oousin Dick’s pet cowboys. I thought It strange you should call me ’Elisabeth,' but I had resolved not to be surprised at anything out here,” she

toughed merrily, and Roger Joined her with a faint heart. “I came here expecting to meet a friend I hoped would be on your train," he admitted soberly. “Your appearance deceived me; you are much alike." “I was the only passenger,” she said ■ympathetlcally. “I hope your—your friend will come tomorrow. Where can ! my cousin's carriage be?” They were silting In the buck board in front of ihe station, aud the agent was trundling two trunks toward them. “Seen a team from Wayland’s?” asked Roger Blake. “Nope. Want these op the wagon?” “Too heavy. Wayland will send for them. If his outfit arrives tell them I’ve carried the young lady over to his place.” “I hope I’m not taking you out of your way.” she protested. “I can wait. I sent a letter”— “That’s all .right. I guess .your letter went astray the same as the one I should have had. I’ve got plenty of time to spare," he added grimly. “I was going to be married this morning.” “Oh, I see. I am very sorry," she said sincerely. Then she maintained a sympathetic silence while Roger drove her over the long road across the prairie to tlis Wayland farm, which adjoined his own on the north. “How long are you going to stay?" queried Roger just before their Journey ended. “Weeks or months perhaps. I have no near relatives and have been teaching school. My cousins have asked mo to come here and enjoy a long rest. I hope your trip to the station tomorrow will be a more successful one—and thank you," she said, with a friendly smile, ns they parted. Ten days afterward Roger met her riding out of the canyon. Her face was prettily tanned, and her broad brimmed hat made an effective frame for her lovely face. “May I congratulate you . today?" she asked brightly. Roger shook his head slowly, and for the first time she noted the tense, drawn look about his pleasant mouth and the misery of his haggard eyes. “You have heard—l hope it is not bad news?” she snld, with that frank friendliness he had found so attractive in her before. He drew a letter from his pocket and extracted a newspaper clipping. “That’s all the explanatlou I’ve had,” he said bitterly. “Married—to some one else—to James Farnliam—how very strange!” she said lu a low, agitated voice. “Why is it strange? Do you know the man?” demanded Roger eagerly. The girl’s face whitened, and a look of distress came into her eyes. “Don’t tell me anything if it pains you,” said Roger gently. “I must. You see, I was engaged to him, and he jilted me for another girl. I didn't know her name until now. I couldn’t stand it, and so I ran away, but now”— She paused and a dreamy contentment replaced the pain in her face. “Now?” “Of course he couldn’t be worth being very sorry about, after all! And life is so good here—so clean and free. I love it.” ° “So do I,” said Roger sincerely. “And about that other, I don’t believe it Is worthy of great sorrow. Shall we gallop?”

Why He Whistled. Whistling is understood everywhere to signify coolness, confidence, carelessness. These may be virtues in their proper place, but that place Is not the society of one’s fellow creatures, whether one be acquainted with them or not. A boy reprimanded, a servant dismissed, goes away whistling if be dares. He wishes to express contempt, and he succeeds at least in enraging his master generally. A hobbledehoy who commits some breach of the proprieties commonly bursts into a whistle. This is to save his face, meaning no harm. But it signifies “I don’t care!” which is Just the reverse of the apology needed. At best it shows indifference; at worst, as the dullest feel, insult and provocation. Boswell tells a little story of whistling, Illustrating the Independent significance. Johnson and he were dining with the Duke of Argyll, who asked a gentleman present to fetch some curiosity from another room. The gentleman brought the wrong article, and the duke sent him back. The exact position of this gentleman toward his host Is undisclosed. However, Boswell says: “He could not refuse, but to avoid any appearance of servility be whistled as he went out of the room. Ou my mentioning this aft-' erward to Dr. Johnson he said it was s nice trait of character.”—Pall Mall Gazette.

SHE UTTERD A LITTLE CRY AND HASTILY THREW BACK HER VEIL.