The Council Bluffs nonpareil. [volume] (Council Bluffs [Iowa]) 1857-1867, 1858-09-11
From the knckerbocker for September.
A COMMON WOMAN's EXPERIENCE.

From the Knickerbocker for September.
A COMMON WOMAN's EXPERIENCE.
Awriter in some modern magazine, speak
luz of his heroine has said: she had an
ideal uf life and love, as all women have !,
but, like almost all women, had neither the
courage nor the integrity to cleave to that
ideal.'
1t is a truth. He was subtle student in
nature. And, had he generously
added that woman may not 60 forth and
search out ter ideal Ms man may, and may
not openly strive to win it as man may, We
women would have read his words without
writhins
live in quiet, inland town, and know
no people whose histories are called roman
tic und thrilling. Still know stories of
comm IN lives which proves how difficult it
is for women, unless they be surprisingly
beautiful. or wealthy or gifted, to obey
their best impulses Of action, and to live
up to the conduct laid down fox them by
men who think finely but have never suffer
ed.
If Amelia Hall had not the beauty which
belongs to the complete woman, she had her
nature and her peculiar genius. And hold
il is the most poetic order Of genius which
makes home beautiful and happy place.
The painter and writer poet have always
exquisite and abundant material with which
to work. But woman 1--WE speak Of her in
common homes, not Of her in apaiace) has
often dingy things and doled supply with
which to deal but, if she has genius, she
always creates place to which man comes
to rest.
Al! women arc SAID to resemble some
flower. rs all men some tree. Amelia Hall
was like rose, one of those roses which
have a center Of faint star color and a single
circle Of pink petals as they spring up wild
on road siies and meadows, but which burst
ont with gorgeous golden hearts and prodi-
yaIitv of crimson corola if they are trans
planted to cultured gardens.
She was an English girl, an orphan, and
n dependent on the bounty Of her uncle, n
rich old man who lived in my native town.
think it is trait Of all girls, whether gay
or rcnsivc, to tell to each other their aspi-
ratons and ambitions.
slow often remember what Amelia Hall
used to say remarked friend last week,
rccountins to me the fntes of various dream
ers. 'While some of US hoped to be poets,
and one queen, and ono an actress, and
another traveller, and many content to be
rich mems wives with splendid wardrobcs
and jewel cases, the foreigner used to say ::
80 American girls! None Of you speak of
YOUR homes nor of YOUR husbands, unless to
say they must be rich and handsome. Hear
how | could be happy. | would have n
homo in village of white houses, wide,
cool streets, parks and many gardens and
fountains Half mile from the village
each wav, there should be woods, and every
where streams of water and rustic bridges.
| wish | might have a husband dark. tall,
fine and nthetict as an Arab chief, chivalrc
AS m olden knight, tender in heart as n gen
tie pngc, and gifted as the Grecian poets.
And unless have such home and husband,
| will always remain Amelia Hall, and work
in unclc's dairy-room. remember how we
used to laugh at the English girl for being
prosy and domestic"
Until she was twenty four, Amelia Hall
the picturesque village. She was content
the while to make butter and cheese, and to
chat with the rustic young men of the ad a
cent farms. Until then she was content,
sandalled with the fairy shoon of fancy, to
walk in the folding parlors of her porticoed
and balconied future home, to arrungc the
flowers, pictures, and furniture, and twilight
to sit in the white.pillared portico, or to 60
down the avenue of trees and watch at
Gothic gate for the noble and one beloved.
As firmly and coolly as if already af6anced,
she refused offer after offer from the wealthy
and honest farmers.
At this period her uncle lost his property,
and then his wife. Then they two were
an invalid old man, and she
poor, poor orphan. On her twenty fourth
birth night, as she walked in the orchard as
usual at sun down, per uncle, lame and
qucrulous, joined her and leaned on her
arm. She saw hope in his poor old face.
Ills voice was CHEEKY as he began well,
Mile. Feel old maid like9 Twsntv-four
this minute and no lover Is it we'll,
lassic p
Millic smiled in her subdued fashion,
She looked down at her face in the mirror
Of the brook. 1t was oval, smooth, and
delicate rosy.
Il see, sec. You English keep wcll,'
said the old man quickly. But you'll alter,
lassc when you have to work ght and day
for bread and calico. When do YOU mean
to get these two things p and he eyed her
Il shall work at something and take
care of US. could teach, l Think she re-
Piled.
'kcep school for eight or ten shillings Il
week !? Starvation wages, girl. 1t twouldn't
keep us buth. If was out of the wav it
might do. But l'vc much better way,
Nillic. Old Yale's son-thc one with hor-
SEES and charists, and farms, and mills, and
houses-wants you for n wife. Hes been
to-day talking with me about you. Why,
don't YOU smile girl?' -r.- 90
Il never could marry man like George
Yale she said.
'Iie's the comeliest man in the town. the
old man continued. slle'd worship little
lsdy-iike woman like you. You could wind
him around your little finger easier than you
can that ribbon. He'll always be home
man. Consider him.
She considered the stalwart farmer six
feet high, with his suuburnt face and still
demeJnor. Il dislike to think
II him. she said.
Consider him, | say. can: bear to see
Tou slave for me you'll soon be miserable
I'D woman. Marry him and hase d home,
md let me have quiet room to die in. Yes,
I've heard the girls tell how you was going
H.