Eaton weekly Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1866-1875, 1873-04-17
his symptoms, and report at the end of

three months.
Berlaps took up the suggestion. It
was not easy to see the connection be-
tween diary and gentleman's liking
for ladies and, just at that. moment,
besides, in his secret heart, Bonbon
fancied he had found permanent cure
for his troublesome symptoms in the lovely
Lucy, in whom he had commenced to feel
violent interest. There was neat
ness, daintiness, a freshness, woman
iness about her inexpressibly attractive.
He fancied her hanging on his arm,
lowering over his sick-bed, presiding at
his table, and his fancy always made q
pleasant picture of her. Nevertheless,
It is SO very natural to want something
for your money, that Berlaps took up
the suggestion. He bought the diary, a
splendid affair in Russia letter.
What are you noting there ?" asked
Miss Lucy, spying it.
ga list of your perfections, F" returned
Berlaps, very much nearer the truth
than people are apt to be when answer
ing such questions ; for the diary con-
tanned little else in fact, till one fine
ing else to add. The old blankness and
wearines were upon him. He struggled
bravely against it, but there was no dis
grising the truth. Lucy had ceased to
interest him.
Berlaps' diary acquired an instant
signifcance. He comprehended its pre-
scription. Fixed symptoms recurring
periodically must have fixed cause, and
the diary was the detective that, sooner
or later, would pounce upon it. He re-
read it anNously. It consisted entirely
of notes on Lucy, who had proved posi-
tive perfection up to the 18th inst. On
the luckless evening Berlaps had asked
her if she liked 6: Moon on Meadows"
work that every refined person must
enjoy. Lucy declared it sc stupid /; for
her part, she could see nothing in it p
then came to an abrupt pause, and
blushed violently, as her mother shook
her head disapprovingly at her. Ber-
laps saw the blush and the nod, con-
nected them together, and noted them
in the diary. On the, 18th inst. Lucy
told him artlessly that "since he had
spoken of it, she had read Moon and
Meadows and liked it very much, it was
so different from what she fancied. She
must have been thinking of some other
book when she made that first criticism.
On the 18th, Berlaps experienced the
WEAKNESS and blank so dreaded. Could
it be, after all, the subtle recoil of an
exquisite nature from whatever was false
or unlovely? The diary. argued that
wav.
: If it is melancholy idea that one is
too good for this world, it is not alto
gether an unhattering one. In the light
of this new explanation, Berlaps found
certain piquancy in his trouble unknown
to him before. He had, besides, a turn
for scientific inquiry, and was not at all
unwilling to originate and solve, per-
haps, a new problem for his century.
Henceforth it was not only the gallant,
but the s1Ud1at, who went among women,
notebook in hand, drifting honorably
passive to his symptoms, only record
ing them all, and giving each young lady
fair chance at him, till the old weari
ness announced the end of her reign /;
and, on the principle of sc The king is
dead, long live the kingl" Berlaps in
stalled her successor. In each case the
naodus oaoer0radi proved invariably the
same, and the diary never wavered, but
pointed steadily to one conclusion. The
finale of each Berlapsade, as they got to
variably preceded by some such melan-
choly discovery as that made by the help
of Moon on Meadows"
ment, that :" she detested plain sewing,
and lady-like pursuits. % May said
"people were cheeky, and things were
too 'thin.'" He stumbled on Amy
when scolding her little brother, and
boxing his ears in furious passion. An
accidental peep into Bellies boxes pro-
claimed her sloven. Kate vowed that
" she preferred her own way, right or
wrong, and would be ruled by no man. J"
Nellie promised she would give her pic
ture to no one but him, and gave one to
Jack Merrill. Lettie made people stare,
and smoked cigarettes. Molie asked
him If Dickens was living or dead, and
why people talked about him. Could
Berlaps doubt, could the doctors, could
anybody doubt, the stern ultimatum of
the remorseless diary? The weariness,
the coldness, the blankness felt by Ber-
laps, was simply his moral and spiritual
recoil from what shocked and panied
him. He was the average man of the
period. His standard was the average
standard, and, tried by it, no young
lady could stand the test.
No one did doubt it, and straightway
there was a profound sensation. The
study and culture of human nature was
the hobby of the age, and its peculiari-
and recorded with the same precision
and anxiety as the wars and political
changes of our own time. Such a de-
ficiency as that insisted upon by Bon
bon's diary was regarded as national
humiliation. Extracts from the diary
were copied in all the leading journals,
with appropriate comments, read aloud
by taunting, teasing, malicious males,
hotly contested by indignant women.
Theories and suggestions were advanced
on all sides. Contending opinions did
battle. The pet subject of magazinists,
the resource of hard-driven newspaper
men, the text of sulky bachelors and
churlish husbands, was Berlaps' diary.
High authorities got by the ears about
it. Finally the National Academy ap-
pointed day for it's discussion, the
Academy to decide on the victor after
that the matter would be held to be set
tied. The Academy was one of the
superstitions of the year $500. There
was no appeal from it.
The day arrived. A vast and splendid
audience, representing the fashion and
intellect of the city, were assembled
The debate commenced.
Now, there are few themes that inspire
the speaker (masculine) with SO much
personal enthusiasm as this of female
Deficiencies. In it he has invested, tel
to one, his daily grumble, his hourly