The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 9, 1904, Page 9

Dear Miss Montgomery: The train was three minutes reaching Liverpool street; er, I 4id not mind, for I of you all the way. ems very dull after Fe- I feel q do wit at a loss to my evenings. I king forward to recelving a u with news of nce my departure. er me to old Mother Brown- vect she®misses me at the ¥ 1 used to chaff her HEXNRY W. WALL ddressed envel- ople may not sus- from you Is of correspon- else. I rather 2 had not sent it to my private ress ecause ortunately my s zot hold . and you know sisters are. Personally, I am as r of a bit of badinage as anybody, ught never to go beyond the nds of good taste. a2sk me whether I remember w from the shelt My an- s that 1 shall never forget it ar 3 are postcard is in front of . and it all looks so real I can hear the very tones oice. It was there you asked whether my Chris an name was Her- rt or Henry, and what my father Al4 for 2 living when he was alive. hen you got home old Mother Brownlow was at the front door of her boarding-house, and asked you e one side of your face so you answered her with a pleasantry. I scarcely know how I shall exist til you return to town. I met a £ lady this afternoon, who lives s in the same road at Stoke New- ngton, and she asked me what had caused such an alteration in my man- ner. “We were such good friends, you d me,” she said in her peculiar way, w you treat me as though you » old glove.” I did not answer her back, but I thought of you anks very much for the picture postcerd. 1 shall treasure it all my e. Yours very sincerely, H.W.W. ss Montgomery: ived this morning an € pe & essed in my own hand- s puzzled for the moment £ n off my guard. It led to a r breakfast, because, as T e * have no business to look other's shoulders when he a private communication. read it twice, I may tell you, in the to Broad street and once on my there to office. At office to- e read it, T should think, with- geration, at least five times, ¥ 10 your question, I certainly did understand that you were living at me, but I am pleased to hear you go out to work. You will be glad to give the city once you are married. I ut to a teunis party yesterday, I was thinking of you all the time. voung lady I told you about was and asked me whether I had lost d: 1 had a good mind to tell d lost my heart. 1 came across this yverse in a weekly paper and il made me think of some- body: Oh, had T all the stars at night, The earth itsel?, the boundless sea, Then would I give them all to thes For they, dear heart, are yours by right I have felt lately as though 1 could make up poetry, only it is somewhat difficult to hit upon anything original; of course, the people who aré paid to do this sort of thing make a special study of it. You may be interested to know that I stand a'very good chance of getting an increase at office in about a month’s time, or six weeks at the latest. If it comes off I hope you will allow me to talte you to the theater. If I remember rightly you said you adored George Alexander. Let me know what train you are coming by on Saturday and I will meet you at Liverpool street and see you safely into your omnibus. Please excuse this long letter. I feel as though I could go on writing to you all the afternoon, only that I have to hurry on with office work, so as not to miss the post. Believe me to be yours, and yours only. HARRY. No. 4. Dear One: Your short nole has filled me with delight. To find that Felixstowe has been dull without me, and that you are quite anxious to see me again is more than I dared to hope. Your idea of love, that it is something one canmot prevent, and that it is entirely re- gardless of wealth or personal attrac- tions, is precisely my own view, only better expressed. There are passages in your dear note that sound just as though they had been taken from a book. You can't think how T am longing to see you again. When your train comes in at Liverpool street station, it will be all I can do to prevent my- self from taking you in my arms, por- ters or no porters. Sometimes, when I am thinking of you, I can't quite re- member whether you wear wings ar not. T send vou all my love, and T hope seems Impossible T could have extsted You can spare we a little of yours. It before I met you. Your devoted, H. No. &, My Dearest Kate: It was a pleasure to meet you om Baturday, and to be allowed to ride part of the way home with you. I sup- pose you were tired out with the jour- ney; I thought you were not looking quite so well as when I used to see you at Felixstowe. Perhaps the sur- roundings make a difference. ‘With regard to what, you said just before I left you, there is no doubt that I do look miore of the,gentleman in a straw than in a bowler, but you ought to know erjcugh at your age and busi- ness experience to understand that a straw hat is not considered quite the thing amopg city men. Apart rrum which, I rather pride myself on know- ing what to wear and when to wear it. SEEMS YIRS ~ é//?/'cf Jflzrgfifp N RE P | Z/RP5 oF YOURS I am sorry to find you do not play tennis. What I had thought, if you had played tennis, was that I would get some one to ask you to come to our grounds one Saturday afternoonm, and then you could have met my sis- ters and ascertained how you were likely to get on with them. You might find them all right; I can’'t be sure about that. They are peculiar girls. Miss Simpson, however (the lady I have referred to in previous corre- spondence), you would be sure to get on with. I have told her about you, without mentioning your name, and she asks me’'to say that If you care to come round to the grounds she will make a point of looking after you and doing the amiable. Miss Simpson is a very nice girl; in most games me and her are about equal. Two of our fellows have gone out with the C. 1. V.’s and I have not mu¢h time. for writing private communica- tions. Fix where you would like to meet me and I will be there. It seems years since I snatched a kiss from those fond lips of yours; do you re- member how. cross you pretended to be? I do not half like the look of af- fairs in South Africa; unless they take a turn for the better, I shall feel in- clined to go out there myself. Believe me, yours affectionately, H W.W. No. 6. I was sorry to get your note and to hear that you did not enjoy yourself in the least on Saturday afternoon -at Tufnell Park. I must admit that you seemed very much out of it; a lady who serves at tennis as you serve can never hope to become popular unless strongly backed up by other qualities. I do not quite see how I could be ex- pected te know that Miss Simpson was In one of the departments of your of fice, seeing that you never told ms what office you were in. What you gave me distinctly to understand dowr at Felixst had mon we was tha the: your ey of your own and that you spent most of your time in Society that you sometimes found It a g bore. Miss Simpson told my two sisters she did not say a word to me—that shs had never spoken to you before, bw knew you 1 that she hat were engaged )ws how rumers get about ng you a slight « this post; T bought six and tt ters, and I trust they will nc tight a fit. Please accept ant when you put them on, think of me. I wish you would come with me to 1 theater on Thursday evening. T am en deavoring to get ers through a gen tleman friend of mine, but if the wors comes to the worst, we can pay and g in the pit. If it should be a case o evening dress, T will wire you, as th tickets will be sure to come in at th last minute. When we are alone fo gether we can have a good long tall about Felixstowe. It is the drawbac) of London that you can never be alone Where do y holidays ne: u think of going for yow year? Belleve me, wit) H W. W. I happened to pass by your hous yesterday evening. Was that yow mother at the window? And was shi affectionate regards, anything like you when a girl? should like to know, No. 7. I have received your note, and | must say I am greatly surprised at th contents. I thought we got on so wel at the Royaity the other evening, and better seats in the balcony no one could have wished for.- I know you would have preferred the St. James’, but yos were very pleasant over it. I conside the argument you now bring forwayd that you could never really love a mas who wore a mads-up tle, as childish % the extreme. The real facts I have learned from my friend, Miss Simpson, who, far | girl, may be looked upon as true m steel. I could trust her anywhere ani evelywhere, and nothing but & sligh misunderstanding—now thoroughly cleared up—concerning & button-hale | was wearing has ever come in to ma that friendship. It appears from wha Flo Simpson tells me that you tool her aside, and asked her what I wm earning, and she replied, “Oh, he get fourteen!” Now I look on it as some what near the knuckle for any lady & make Inquiries concerning the incoms of any gentleman she has professed 4 be fond of, but let that pass. What | wish to point out to you is this. Yo jumped to the conclusion that F¥ meant fourteen shilllngs a weel whereas, If you must know, my salan {3 fourteen pounds & month, and a very good salary too as salaries go. It 1 no doubt owing to this blunder thw you now writs and say that it appean unwise to continue the acqualintance and that you could never dream . a changing the name of Msntgomery fa that of Wall. You can keep the gloves, but kindd return the photo. T have discovers that a picturs depends a good deal o the frame, and that what appeare quite nice and agreeabls at Fellxstow may turn out quite different in Londos There is no harm done, and I have ask ed. Hlo to tell you, If she runs acros you at office, to say that I was not » much upset as you might think. Wishing you well in your future ef forts, I am, yours faithfully, HENRY W. WALL. P. 8.—1 trust 1 bave behaved of through as a gentleman ought to be have toward a lady.