The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1873-11-14


nature. his pure intention, his mellow
thought. the whole fine structure of his
manhood. She knew little of the
world she made him her standard. So
that when Burnham came wooing and
made her sure that all his happiness
was in her, she staked herself, and was
blessed in proportion to her Intense
sensibility.
When isabel became wife, she did
not degrade her hero. Her very esti-
mate kept him up to her. Proud and
tender of her, he walked to rectitude,
and softly, before her, many moons and
never meant to deviate.
But
(The chapter recording Solomon's fall
begins with butt
But Burnham was a society man ; he
had such jovial friends, who formed
such a jovial and select club. The
"Pickwick Club ran over with money,
and leisure, and graceful gaiety. To. be
a Pickwickian was to be recognized
as tip-top globule of the city cream.
Youngsters of family looked forward to
rising into this club much as the young
Roman anticipated the toga of man
nOOu. IL uu
influence. The Pickwickians metin
elegant apartments, drank imported
wine, attended by perfect and silent SER
vice, and rallied at the hard worked, sad
visaged world Young husbands were
considered great conquests among them,
and they importuued Durham so much
to join them, that he good-naturedly
took to running in" From taking n
friendly cigar and glass, he went on to
extending his stays till the fascination
of the club ran through all his veins.
Isabel knew nothing of clubs. She
supposed they might be assemblages of
gentlemen with something of literary
character, such as Addison pictures.
She saw in her minds eye sober citizens
grouped about tables, reading, perhaps
SIN oking, and discussing wisdom. She
waited for her husband because she was
restless when he was away, not because
she had any righteous tongue in pickle
for him.
Feet shuffled in the hall. She bent
her neck ; her whole body crouched to
listen. They drew nearer, zig-zagging I;
they paused at her door and the being
outside, evidently an animal without
hands, began to rub and tumble and
growl for entrance.
Isabel threw the door open when n
person i'll very bad hat, with his
whole apparel somewhat on one side, fell
mt her feet. 1t was a stage-scene, but
terribly real with one actor. Isabel
started back, raising and wringing her
hands and staring at her husband like a
maniac. Mr.. Burnham gathered him
self up and took observations. Some
drunken men are abusive, others maud
lin, others Jolly. But Durham was
pompous. He found a sofa, and mount
ed it TREMENDOUSLY to harangue his wife
on her duty as "gen'lman to c'nduct
self like genl Observation-Disclosures way y
and made as consummate and disgust
ing fool of himself as it is possible for
mans body to do when that fine spirit
which governs is drowned.
Isabel stood watching without NOV
ing muscle. The stare drew his at
tention, and he requested leave to ask
if she were drunk, and if she meant to
"'sult him ?" Then, overweight by
his own eloquence, he relaxed and
dropped along the sofa. SIC saw a
face swollen and sensual a frame
nerveless and heavy a man turned to a
beast.
Her maid tapped at her inner door to
ask if Mrs. Burnham wanted her now.
" Go to my dressing-room, replied
Isabel, towering between the damsel's
eyes ind that Observation-Disclosures
steep-grade, upon the sofa. "Wait for
me there.
She closed the door and went back.
Not being addicted to harangues and
handkerchiefs, she merely clasped her
hands and looked at him, thinking, /
suppose, that no woe like hers ever
come upon the world since the deluge.
Yet Mrs. Smith, down by the wharves,
could have shown her deeper depths
and thousands of wretches within few
square miles might have smiled at her
butterfly misery. Yet, after all, every
one suffers according to his capacity
rather than according to his stroke.
Isabel considered wine as belonging to
gentle breeding. That Mrs. Smith
Imam" should come to the gutter
through rum, was thing to be expect
ed; "that sort of people you know,
ETC.; but that Mrs. Burnham's lore
could be touched with the same infrmi
ty, was revelation of human nature fol
which she was not prepared. Like al
natures of her cast, she stood in fercest
judgment over what she loved best.
Burnham slept till late sun thrust
bright daggers through his hair, anC
heated his oyelids.
Dissipation treated him kindly. HI,
came down to luncheon after bath anC
toilet and little philosophy, as fresl
and suave as your father confessor. Isa
bel did not trouble him for the time
She had taken her maid and gone out
he supposed, and he was glad of hav
ing more time to recover himself befor,
he attempted to pass under those blacl
eyes again. He came home to dinner
invigorated by business, with his win
ming, repentant guisc on his face, read,
for use, as you may say. But Isabe
had not yet returned. No one had seei
her that day.
He rushed to her room and ploweC
among her belongings. She had takel
little and that little had evidently beer
packed hastily.
Pinned to frame containing his por
trait, Burnham found her last tesla