The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1856-1888, 1857-04-30

ton OF the city, ana coming into q Iocanty ah"cSI
suburban. Huntington looked around as If fearful
that some one would observe him, and gaZed with
some contempt at the cottage which his companion
designated as his home " for the present"
sSmall beginnings, you know, are favorable In
almost all enterprises, although nowadays they are
rather too questionable, for the good OF mankind.
l intend in the summer to throw q trelIs over TINS
door. As it is, I own, it has rather a bare appear,
ance. It would be an improvement, WOULD II hot:
"I suppose so;'' was the indifferent reply.
My front entry does not merit the name OF q hau'
but it answers all purposes very well, ana VIII P:ooS-
bly, hold the hats and canes OF oil the real hlehuS
that l own"
As Huntington deposited his hat and coat he
began, for the first time, to ask himself what SORT Vi
a person the fair tenant of the cottage might De;
Martyr had told him she was from the country, ana
with visions of frowsy m~ilk-maids and romplng noy-
dens, he entered a room which his punctlious fancy
was at q loss whether to designate as parlor or SIT
ting-room. 4 neat carpet reflected the glow OF an
open coal-grate; a single well-chosen picture deckeo
the wallis; simple muslin curtains yelled the windows
from one of which hung a German ampei; u taope
and shade-lamp were the central objects1n the room'
and in one corner were visible a flute and guitar.
'Ah! Mary is absent-in some household care III
tent. Take this easy chair to the fre-she Will be
in, presently
The Young Mrs. Martyr at that moment appeared;
and, although startled st unexpectedly meeting q
stranger, Immediately recovered her selt-possesslon,
and advanced with lady-like dignity to welcome her
guest. Visions of the ill-bred woman he had expected
to be forced TO entertain, vanished; and, nVolunta-
rily, he was led into q lively conversation in which
he found himself the person entertained. Not that
Mary Martyr was one of those polished women OF
the world who have studied all their lives the g art.
of conversation, only to make If more artinclaI ana
more unfit for the part it is to play In life, but NAT
ural good sense, y useful education, and q quick
sympathy with every one, made her readily adapt
herself to almost any temperament and rendered hT
exactly what Huntington termed Is charming"
Perhaps she said, 81 am better acquainted
with you than you imagine. My husband has told
me of the difference between your ideas and our
own, in reference to commencing life. You are
doubtless prepared for all the homely simplicity which
you find in our dwelling, and which, If I am not
mistaken, agrees but poorly with your ideas OF domes-
tic life
"My dear Mrs. Martyn,'' said Huntington bow
ing low. such a presence as yours would shed over
any dwelling-''
Pardon me- she laughingly interrupted, " but
1 foresee q compliment in your words. A friendship
that begins with q compliment will have no good
ending. Let US consider ourselves friends, eschew
formalities,-'
n talk plainly % said Martyr.
Eyes, George; you are right. Talk plainly. Then
shall we find truth.''
Huntington, Observing that only good coin would
pass in Martyrs house, dropped his assumed air of
gallantry, and talked familiarity, and, as Martyr had
proposed, plainly.
Sc AS look, madam, on the scenearound me, I am
tempted to give up my pet ideas which cling to. me
with the tenacity of old habits, and adopt your SIM
pie and perhaps beautiful views of life. But I am
willing to confess that I have not the independence"
CIV will not believe that said Mrs. Martyr, re-
s:But it is no less true. When Ned Huntington
marries, all the world-that is, has world-will be on
the qui Uive to see the result. When q man has
smoked the best cigars, worn the ~costliest waist-coats,
and the finest kids, he cannot come down to suburban
cottages and plain life"
Mr.. and Mrs. Martyr exchanged glances of mean
ing, unnoticed by their guest who seemed dreaming
day-dreams.
81 must rise in the world,'' he continued, cor
remain where I am. To sink would be moral death.
I love the good things of this life; and, above all I
cannot bear to think that others may enjoy what I
must not"
There was silence for a moment, when he started
and looked around; But what have | been saying?
Excuse me, Martyr. You know what a dreamer I
am"
eyes; and we would, if we could, win you from
these dreams. We would have you, as Jane Eyre
saws, 'slook life in the face! stare reality out Of its
brazen countenance - Fling away dreams cast
aside the opinions of the world! Do as you please
when right is on your side, and BE A MAN 20
"Nobly said, Martyr l know you are right.
But these hard times make one first cautious.
then despairing."
And what is to be the end of.these much abused
times ?''' asked Mrs. Martyr.
Good only knows 20 was the moody reply.
sI wish,' said Martyr, that people would cease
grooming over hard times If every man would put
his hand to the plough We could have them cured in
a t~winkling. But it is easier to groan than to work
and be brave; and so we are as deep in the fog as
ever. Huntington, I had d quiet talk with myself
last fall. had been up to see Mary-you may listen
Mary, it is suited to your earl had been to see her,
and we had been talking of the wedding-day. Mary
had hesitated about setting it, for she knew | called
myself a poor man; and, bringing me nothing'-as
the saying is, she had n true woman's fear Of the
future-not for herself, but for me. I remember
riding homewards in a buggy alone, late ut night,
with the moon shining full in my face. The scene
and the hour threw me into a meditative mood.
Most ardently 1 loved her-you need not blush at
that, Mary and | solemnly asked myself whether I
should longer delay our marriage. A year l had
waited. The times grew no easier. Another lear
would tell the same story; and, good God what
might not happen to Us in that time Spectres of
dread must have hung around me, but [ aroused
myself, and they were there no more. At that mo-
ment, life looked to me very short, ofscarcely a days
duration. Should I spend that short day working,
working, waiting, waiting? and for what, For
riches that I could not reach until the better part of
that day was spent? No, I said. Better a cottage
with Mary, than a palace without her. knew what
people would say; but [ cared little. Many q clerI,
with my little salary marries with no thought for the
future; seeks a genteel boarding house-one of the
curses Of our land that knows too few real homes:
dashes largely into extravaganza in dress, jewelry.
horses, balls SC. borrows money which is never to be
paid; grows gloomy, hopeless, and d~ispirited: seeks
to drown thought in the dissipation Of the gambling
saloon; thinks of home as a dull, dreary place: and
his wife as the creature who has brought ali this
misery upon him"
Its a terrible picture shuddered Huntington.
"But no less terrible than true, as you and 1 well