Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1867-07-12

'1i'.i 81 From the Atlantic Monthly.
A STRUGGLE FOR LIFE.

n - 1&G ~S@%-~ -
,a.a wf ~ One morning last April as was passing
y,. through Boston Common, which hes pea e
S sanity between my residence ana my, oLice
T met a gentleman lounging along ih
Mall 7 am generally preoccupled sWheI
ata ad sroJSded streets without distinctly observ
u; ins Single soul. But this man's face forced
.aaIt itself upon me- and very singular facet
tsna - f was His eyes were faded, and ms hair
~ 2i q which he wore long, was feckeo WIN gray
i'' le His hair and eyes, if may say SO, were
Fiji, u u seventy years old, the rest OF him not
.e'h thirty. The youthfulness of his figure the
ilD 4 elasticity Of his gait, and the venerable ap-
Ia +. uearanceE of his head, were lncongruities
~ tid that drew more than one pair of curious
y t,"' ewes towards him. He was evidently an
sls.S - American New England cut OF coun-
nsifari@ tenance is iinmistakeable--e videntlye a
man who had seen something OF the World;
but strangely old and young. ,. - :
e" .,r Before reaching the Park street gate,
..a- H., had taken up the thread of thought which
isnH he had unconsciously broken; yet through
out the day this old young man, with his
unwrinkled brow and silvered locks glided
in like phantom between me and my
duties.i ~ q .a s'a1i7f
The next morning again encountered
him on The Mall. He was resting lazily
on the green rails Watching two little
$50 loops in dist ress, which two ragged ship
4 q - owners had consigned to the mimic perls
of the Pond The vessels lay becalmed in
the middle of the ocean, displaying tam
talizing lack of sympathy with the frantic
helpessness of the owners on shore AS
af.fa.'.' the gentleman observed their, dilemma a
RI light came into his faded eyes, then died
,saaar out, leaving them drearier than before.
afz wondered if he, too IN his time had sent
,..f out ships that drifted and drifted and never
,7 l.lo came to port; and if these poor toys were
PM; ~ to him types Of his own losses. 3I@,lt
.o" 81 would like to know that mans story"
~ said, half aloud, hating ia one of those
winding paths which branch off from the
+. .ar.. quietness of the Pond and end in the rush
r.r .s and tumult of fremont Street. b +,
would your" replied a voice at my
side. l turned and faced Mr. H, a
$40 neighbor of mine, who laughed heartily at
na ~ finding me talking to myself I" We'll" he
" added, reflectingy, can tell you this
Ifs Is la1s mans story and if you will match the
500 2A narrative with anything as curious, shall
be glad to hear it."
"You know him then 2"
eyes and no. happened to be in Paris
SIS "Buried!" .,,.
swell, strictly speaking, not buried but
~ 10 O.. something quite like it. If you We a spare
- .s'J halfhour," continued my interlocutor,
a@ H' we'll sit on this BENCH and will tell you
all know of an affair that made some
l9 9i noise in Paris couple of years ago The
gentleman himself standing yonder will
3, serve as sort OF frontisplece to the TO-
500 nance "a fullpage illustration as it
j were. ~ '"A arg" i4.t ''H - z
The following pages contain the story
That Mr. ID. related to me- While he was
telling 1T a gentle wind arose the minia-
ture sloops drifted feebly about the ocean;
the wretched owners flew from point to
point, as the deceptive breeze promised to
fII0i12Waftethe banks to either shore; the early
robins trilled now and then from the newly
fringed elms; and the old young man lean
ed on the rail in the sunshine, YEARLY.
azoh bua little dreaming that two gossips were dis
~ Glii cussng his affairs within twenty wards of
sas him. o7'F 4=ti-t = II s-.r2t1 a1tT1 '7F' -
Three people were sitting in alchamber
whose LARGE window I'D tho
Place Vendome. M. Dorine with his back
.a js,l half turned on the other two OCCUPANTS of
the apartment, was reading the Moaiteur
pauslng from time to time to wipe his
rr~-- glasses and taking scrupulous pains not to
- glance towards the lounge at his right on
which was seated Mademoiselle Dorine and
ayoung American gentleman, whose hand.
some face rather frankly told his position
in the family. There was not a happier
man in Paris that afternoon than Philir
Wentworth. Life had become soIdelicious
to him that he shrunk from looking beyond
to-day. What could the future addgto hi,
sluH heartg what might it not take away
IN certain natures the deepest Joy has
always something of melancholy in it, a
presentlment feeting sadness % FEELING
ssF<s4ss without name. Wentworth was conscious
OF this subtitle shadow that night when he
rose from the lounge, and ttoug htfully held
jules hand to his lip for moment before
partlng. A careless observer would not
A0haye thought him, as he was. the Ihappiest
M. Dorlne laid down his paper and came
forward If the house" he said sis such
as NJ Martin describes it, advise you to
.f629h close with him at once. L would accom-.
sgu.o pany you, Philip, but the truth is, am too
sad at losing this little bird to assist you in
Seiecung cage for her. Remember the
.Jf2,iast Train for town leaves at five Be sure
not 70 miss it; for we have seats for M
6ardous new comedy tomorrow night.
by tomorrow night" he added laughngly,
little Julie here will be an old lady--'tis
such an age from now until them --sa"4
t,-o,FE Inc next morning the train bore Philip
+tNoAk 10 one of the loyeliest spots within thirty
miles OF Paris. An hours walk TIN ough
YTTIE green lanes brought him to M Martins
/HH estate In kind of dream the young man
tttts wandered from roomto room, inspected the
conservatory the stables the lawns, the
strip OF woodland through which merry
prook sang to itself continually; and, after
dining with M. Martin, completed the pur-
Ib-a s. Chase, and turned his steps towards the
9'tN. station, just in time to catch the express
train. ft't --'e
As Paris stretched out before him, with
els its million lights twinkliug in the early
dusk and its sharp spires here and there
-6 pricklng the sky, it seemed to Philip as il
rs. years had elapsed since he left the city On
,gr reaching Paris he drove to his hotel where
he found several letters living on the table
He did not trouble himself even to glance
at their superscrlptions as he threw aside
his travelling surtout for more appropri
ate dress
If in his impatence to see Mademoiselle
Doriue the cars had appeared to walk the
nacre which he had secured at the station
appeared to creep At last it turned into
me Place Vendome, and drew up before