le I came to know well in Cincinnati was John A.
Cockerill. At that time he was the city editor on the _Enquirer_, and my
devoted friend. We were both young, poor, energetic, ambitious. We
exchanged confidences, plans, hopes, and dreams, and were as happy as
possible so long as we were just plain friends, but as soon as sentiment
pushed in and an engagement was acknowledged between us, we, as the
farmer says:

"Quarrel'd and fit--and scratched and bit--"

For John was jealous of my profession, which made my temper hot, and we
were a queer engaged pair. I used to say to him: "It's just a question
which one of us suicides first!"

Yet on some days we would forget we were engaged and be quite cheerful
and happy; and when I came back from New York, I cried: "Congratulate me,
John, I've got an engagement, so we can't nag each other to death for a
year at least!" and though that gave a lovely opening for a quarrel he
passed it by, congratulating me very gently instead, but very sadly,
adding: "You are getting so far ahead of me, dear--and you will learn to
despise a man who comes toiling always behind you!"

A statement that came so dangerously near the truth that it threw me into
a passion, and we had a battle royal then and there. However, we parted
in a gale of laughter, for as John suddenly discovered he was overstaying
his intended short visit, he sprang up and grabbed his hat and exclaimed:
"Well, good-by, Clara, we haven't indulged in much sentiment to-day,
but," drawing a long, satisfied breath, "we've enjoyed a good lusty old
row all the same!"

No wonder we laughed. We were a rare engaged couple. Lovers? why Cupid
had never even pointed an arrow at us for fun! We were chums--good
fellows in sunny weather; loyal, active friends in time of trouble, and,
after I came to New York, and found quarreling at length, with pen and
ink, too fatiguing, I broke the engagement, and we were happy ever
after--our friendship always standing firm through the years; and when,
in the _Herald's_ interests, he started on that last long journey to
report upon the Japanese-Chinese War, he said to me: "I never understood
the meaning of the word friendship until that day when you flung all your
natural caution--your calm good sense aside, and rushed through the first
cheering message that reached me after that awful St. Louis shooting:
'You acted in self-defence, I _know_--command any service from your
faithful friend,' that's wha