The River Falls journal. (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1857-1861, 1859-03-09
Misttllaneous
ROM NICE.

An eetroct from Mrs. Stones "lfSn-
istea' Wooing," IN tile AAantic Monthly.
H6 HERE is no word in the English
u language more uncermoniously and
indefinitely kicked and cufed about, by
what are called sensible people, than the
word romance. When Mr. Smith or Mr..
Stubs has brought every wheel of lfe in
to such range aud order that it is one
steady, daily grind, when they themselves
have come into the habit and attitudes Of
the patient donkey, who steps round and
round the endlessly turning wheel Of
some machinery, then they fancy that
they have gotten 1the victory that over
cometh the world" ..... ....
All butthis dead grind, and the dollars
that come through the mill, is by them
thrown into one waste ''catch-alF' and
labelled romance. Perhaps there was
a time IN M. Smith's youth,-he remenl-
bers it now,-when he read poetry, when
his cheek was wet with strange tears,
when little song, ground out by an or
gan-grinder in the street had power to
set his heart beating and bring a mist be-
fore BIS eyes. All, in those days he had
vision "a pair of soft eyes stirred him
strangely !; a little weak hand was laid on
his manhood, and it shook and trenbled !;
and then came all the humility, the aspi-
ration, the fear, the hope, the high desire,
the troubling Of the waters by the descend
ing angel of love,-a and little more and
MIR. Smith might have become a man, in
stead of banker He thinks of it now
sometimes, as he looks across the fire
place after dinner and see Mrs. Smith
asleep, innocentv shaking the bouquet of
pink bows and Brussels lace that waves
ever her PLACID red countcnance.
Mrs. -mith wasn't his first love, nor,
indeed, any love at all; but they agree
reasonably well. And as forpoor Nellie
well. she is dead and buried al that
was stuff and romance. Mrs. Smiths
money set him up in business, and Mrs.
Smith is capital manager, and he
thanks God that he isn't romantic and
tells Smith Junior not to read poetry or
novels, and to stick to realities.
This is the victory that overcometh the
world" TO learn to be fat and tranquil,
to have warm fires and good dinners, to
hang your hat on the same peg at the
same hour every day, to sleep soundly all
night, and never to trouble your head
with thought or imagining beyond.
But there are many people besides Mr..
Smith who have gained this victory
who have .ngled their higher nature,
burieHit, and BUILT over its grave the
structure of their life, the better to keep
it down.
The fascinating Mrs. T., whose life is a
whirl between ball and opera, peint-lace,
diamonds, and schemings of admiration
for herself, and Of establishments for her
daughters, there was time, if you will
believe me, when that proud, worldly
woman was so humbled, under the touch
of some mighty power, that she actually
thought herself capable of being a poor
mans wife. She thought she could live
in little, mean house on no-matter-what-
street, with one servant, and make her
own bonnets and mend her own clothes,
sweep the house Mondays, while Betty
washes,-all. for whats All because
she thought that there was man SO no
bic, so trne, so good, so high-minded,
that to live with him in poverty, to be
guided by him in adversely, to lean on
hum in every rough place of life, was
something nobler, better, purer, more
satisfying, than French laces, op 5ra-boxes,
and even Madame Rogets best gowns.
Unfortunately, this was all romance
there was no such man. There wac. in
deed, person Of very common, selt-in-
terested aims and worldly nature, whom
she had credited at sight with an unlim-
tied draft on all her better nature; and
when the hour of discovery came, she a
woke from her dream with a start and
laugh. and ever since has despised aspira-
ton, and been busy with the realities of
Efe, and feeds poo, little Mary Jane, who
sits BY herr in the opera-box there, with
all the fruit which she has picked from
the bitter tree of knowledge. There is no
end of the epigrams and witticisms which
she can throw out, this elegant Mrs. T.,
Oh people who marry for love, lead prosy
workv lives. and put on their best cap
with pink ribbons for Sunday. Mary
lane shall never make a fool of herself;