The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1864-01-01
COMMUNICATIONS.



BY IDA PERLEY. ffEFse
James Adolphus Mayer sat in his sky-par-
lor at No. 4J, reading. The fire was getting
low with the sun, and as the last page was fin
ished, and the shadows gathered thick and
fast on the time-worn furniture and the hand
some form Of Mr., Mayer, pcrchance some Of
them crept unawares into his heart. .ts
written by a woman" said he, nlusingly.
"What on earth can possess women to write
such things is more than can tell. tMr. May
ar didn't say ,chat things; but, as the shadows
became deeper and darker, perhaps it was not
so clear TO him as 1t might have been.)
would trust my happiness to the care and
keeping Of any woman who writes for the
press? Not Iw Mr.. Mayer drew sigh of
relief, as il he had just escaped a kidnapping
angler for hearts. He was so lost in reAec-
ton that he did not notice the approach of
very diminutive lady, who perched herself on
the back of his chair and gave him piece OF
her small mind. va H
80 Mr.. Mayer! how could you make so
sweeping an assertion-how could you be SO
ungallant-when you know many lady who
has honorcd you with her friendship might ap
ply it to herself in particular. Are you not
the least bit jealous, Mr.. Mayer? Do you, as
representative OF your sex, wish to monopo-
lie the art of making books and poetry?
Would you exclude from the field of literature
the lesser lights because they gladden. other
hearts than your own? Need your wife be
Mrs. Jeliyby because she had the courage to
solicit editorial patronage-Heavcn help her!
once or twice, or to send out upon the world
floweret from her own hearts garden? No,
no, Mr.. Mayer. She might easily get your
breakfast in season for you to take the morn
ing train, make pies and puddings for your
dinner, keep your house as nice as two little
pins, make your tea, set your chair by the
bright hearthstone, place your slippers near,
and when she heard your welcome footstep
and your dear familiar voice. hasten to greet
you with smile and kiss; and yet--O un-
appreciative Mayer.- find time to write a
book.
You may not see how she could do all this
in year, perhaps, but there are those who
can. ea
Let me draw another picture for you. In
your far-secing wisdom, = frightened per-
chance, by the discovery that she has 'nom
de plume'-you turn from one who really
loves you, and seek another who you have
heard her say it - has mo taste for such
things to be the light Of your heart and
home. You select pleasant and convenient
residence so that you will not have to walk
far to the station. There are neighbors near,
and you leave your wife with hope that she
will not be lonely in your absence. She does
not mean TO be; and hastily performing her
household duties, prepares to 90 out. She
: must return the calls of her neighbors, of
course. BY and by, she becomes better ac-
quainted, is duly initiated into the mysteries
of the ncighborhood, finds herself immensely
interested in the domestic affairs of two or
three families, and they in hers. You come
home at night weary in mind and body and
very hungry. The fire - which went out
during the absence of your wife-is, just be-
ginning to burn, The tablecloth is spread, the
dishes placed on 1t, and you sit down to-what
% E2icurian Mayer! dry bread, hard cakes,
and smoked tea! You experience something
very like chill now and then, for the room
is cold and not very tidy, and you almost wish
that you had taken journey to Borioboola
Cha before the matrimonial moose had been
slipped over your neck.
Nor does the recital of various stories trhis-
pered around, tend TO enliven the state of your
mind, IN the least. On the contrary, you find
to your incxpressiblc regret and sorrow, that
the light Of your heart is far more interested
in all this gossip than she is in yourself. You
advise her-crossly--to stay at home for the
future-to have nothing more TO say or do
about it. whereat, she looks at you in sur
prise and asks, "What can she do there alone
all day with nothing to interest OF alm,lse her.
She don't care about music, and ii don't pay
to practice-now, ,shes married = and you
know she never reads except on Sundays
when she can do nothing elsew What a pros
pect for the future. What an awakening from
your fond dreams of domestic comfort and
happiness; what a sigh from the depths of your
loving heart when you think of what might
nave been. Which picture do you prefer ?
Depend upon it, Mr.. Mayer, your chances OF
happiness would be far greater with one who
knew the proverbs Of Solomon from Shake
spears, and who could sympathizc with you,
than it would be with her who 'shad no taste
for such things"