OCR Text |
Show The Sweethearts of a Boy. Lovo and the mating Instinct come early to tho boy. I was scarcely six and Just beginning school when I formed an attachment for Nelllo Grant (which wasn't hor namo at all, but ono I supply for porsonal reasons) rea-sons) and longed for tho time when I would bo a man and could carry her homo to mother. I didn't think. In thoso days, of having an Independent establishment of my own. Tho love for my mothor was too great to permit any premeditation ot a nest without lier. Nelllo was a blue-eyed swootheart, ot happy face, red lips and light-brown curls. Sho said "Good morning," shy ly at tho schoolhouso gate and shrank from my boyish roughness, which Is always tho mask of boy love. I worshiped wor-shiped hor bo truly that I stoutly maintained her as my preference whon my aunt Joked me about her and tho boys twitted mo ot "having a girl." As tlmo passed, I grow bolder, but Nulllo seemed always afraid of mo nnd when, one day In an outburst ot affection, I pulled hor pig-tall, yelled "III," and ran away to hide my embarrassment, and she cried, I was besieged by grief and battled by Cupid. This was tho nxtent of our lovo-making. lovo-making. Nelllo soon grew awa,y from mo, and while I was still adoring hor, acquired a real beau who walked home with hor ono night from tho icli'iulhouso. Awful Beason of unrequited unre-quited love, I feel thy blasting In flu-.mi flu-.mi still! nd then, It teems but yesterday, SVI le ran away with a no'or-do-woll an I married him. Shu camo back ul up In a yoar or two, when I was lu my baseball opoch, and took In I1.. u sewing to support herself and child. Ho had deserted her. buck yonder In boautlful Idverslde a grassy mound marks where sho lci ps and covors all but memory of that llrst swoethoart ot mine. Over ih grnvo birds carol and tho elm : ifii throw tholr silhouetted shade. V : one's throw away tho Cedar laps up.. n tho shoro and sings a crooning lullaby to thoso who slumber in Who t'lty of the Dead. God rest her. She wa a puru dewdrop In Life's ocean of brlno, a spring anemone In the heart-garden of love. |