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HERE is one pretty woman with softly graying hair who laughingly holds up a bundle of old love letters, "Jim's, you see!" Out of them drops a little old faded photograph and she exclaims, "Why, I didn't know that was there. It's the one Jim used to carry in his pocket."

And you pick it up and look at a sweet face with old-fashioned braids of hair. Then you turn over the picture and read on the back in the same fine hand that penned the letters: "Friday night at Prayer Meeting, March 22, 1872engaged September 1, 1872." If you are allowed to read the letters, you find the record of a quarrel in the church yard, and a