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Show LITERATURE AND LOVE Drifting into town a homeless waif, John Henderson had grown to manhood, and 'by thrift and hard work had acquired a small farm and built a neat cottage. One day John called on Squire Olcott, and being a man of few words, expressed himself thus: "Squire, you know I came to this town a poor boy, you know I have made friends of everybody, here, you know I have saved my money and bought a fa''i and built a house, you know I am thirty and have a bank account." "Yes," said the squire, ' all you say is true." "Well, squire, I want to get married." "Good for you, John; who's the lady?" "You a.int never noticed a nice little black-eyed black-eyed school teacher passin' up the street every day, have you? Well, that's her." "I suppose you have her consent and the affair is all arranged," suggested the squire. "Well, no, not exactly; that Is what I want you to do for me. I have never spoken to a lady in my life," and the squire with a hearty laugh said, "Where do I come in?" ''Don't laugh, squire; this is a serious thing. I want you to write her a letter. Tell her about my being a poor boy, how I have worked early and late and saved my money. How I bought the farm and built the house, and how I want her to to ah to be my wife," and here John stopped, the 'blushes coloring his honest tanned face to the roots of his hair. So the old squire, who was a past master in the art of letter writing, spent a long time in composing the letter while John patiently waited. "Perhaps I had better read it to you and if it is wrong in any particular you can say so and I will change it to suit your ideas?" So he read the letter, and it was a beautiful statement of John's life, his work, his desires, his accomplishments, about his farm and little cottage. 'So realistic it was that long before its close John was deeply distressed and big tears rolled down his cheeks. 1 "How will that do?" asked the squire as he finished reading. "Do?" said John, "do it's just splendid." Then with a sudden burst of tears and candor he blurted out, "Squire, if that letter don't fetch her, she she she can go to blazes." Mack's Monthly Magazine. |