Rensselaer Republican, Volume 14, Number 33, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 May 1882 — Another Chicage Tribune Novel. [ARTICLE]

Another Chicage Tribune Novel.

f —— "Must I go, sweetheart?” "Yes,’‘Replied Lillian MaGuire, placing her shapely white handin his, and looking into his face with a tender earnestness that showed the true woman! ness of her nature; “it is bettw, far better for both of us that we should part forever,” but as she spoke the hot tears of pain welled up into her beautiful brown eyes—those eyes that had witched with their bright glances and dreamy tenderness so man men—and with a little sob of pain Lillian’s head was bowed upon George W. Simpson’s in an ecstacy of grief. ‘ Couldn’t you put a ten-ye«g limit on your bill, darling?” asked the young man, bending gently over the little head that was pillowed so trustingly just under his left ear; “I certainly ought to have as good a chance as a Chinaman.” A low moan of pain and a convulsive shake of the little head was the only response. But George was not to be denied so easily. "Can I not have one hope?” he said, "one little, nickel-plated, 10cent hope?” Lillian lifted her head and looked at him steadily. "Perhaps,” she said, in cold, Saffian’s Bay tones, "you would drop if a house fell on you. but I begin to doubt it. Knaw then, since you will have it, that under no circumstances can I ever accept your proffered love, for I am a packer’s daughter, and packers’ daughters come high”—this with a haughty expression that lower-case type can not convey. George W. Simpson saw at once that this proud beauty had been making a plaything of his love./The revelation was a terrible one, but he bore it bravely. ' . "Very well,” he said, in husky, haven’t- had- a- drink- in three-hours tones. "You have stamped with the iron heel of scorn upon the tender violet of my budding love, but some day, when your children—little winsome brats with sunny smiles and an assortment of colic that will keep you three nights every week—are climbing upon your knee until you are in danger of becoming knee-sprung, you will per ans remember, with a tinge of sadness in the .recollection, how

you toyed with the love of a loyal, trusting, Cook-County heart, and threw forever over and happy life the black pall of a disappointed hope and crushed ambition. I have seen the roses of my love wither and waste away until they lie shriveled and blighted by the dusty roadside of life, and you can bet that I feel pretty tough about it. J have seen my beautiful and stately Ship of Hope, with its tall, shapely masts and towering wings of snowy canvas that sailed away so buoyantly and bravely over shimmering seas not months ago, come hack to me a shapeless wreck—the tapering spars that were so white and clean, now jagged and broken, and to them clinging the dark seaweeds, while of the sails that rivaled the clouds in fleecy puritv, there remain only blackened shreds that flop dismally in the moaning wind, whose voice seems to be the requiem and dirge of my dead and buried love. I have got the boss wreck, and don’t you forget it.” Lillian looked at him steadily for a moment. “Do you mean these words you have spoken,George?” she asked. “You can bet your life I do,” he answered in low passionate tones. “And do you really love me so dearly?” “Well, I should gasp,” was the reply,a pearly tear glistening in George’s oft eye. “Then,” said Lillian, twining her arms about his neck, “I will nos ton your knee next Tuesday evening as usual. Papa would never forgive me if I let a man who ean talk .like that go out of the family.”