Litchfield enquirer., 1873-04-10

to the life Mrs. Gaston turbaned her, and challenged the world to behold the fated Cenci; while Prof Apex declared she needed only striped mantle to pre- sent the naadonn0 della sedial. Poor Kitty, she did her best in these ! days. To be sure, I had only little glimpses of her, and I began to think about reading "he Memori0na," and the Tears of the widower when he sees The late lost form, etc., e.-.
 seem to touch my case very nearly. Then I would fly for consolation to the news papers, only to be told that, '"The hus- band of the brilliant Mrs. Pell Junkett is a physician of fair ability with tolerabls practice and thorough appreciation of his incomparable wife," Or. again, "We were shown, yesterday, at the residence of Mrs. Dr. Junkett, widow of the late Mott Junkett, M. D., Q work of art of great merit and transcendent interest. It was no less than family portrait of 6 favorite of the Junkett household, e cat. It was painted some years ago, and is of the greatest value as an early scintillation of that brilliant genius, Mrs. Pell Junk ett."
 ] Again, "Worshipers at St Matthews church, yesterday, doubtless noticed, in one of the body slips, Q woman of exquis- ite beauty and great taste in dress, hay ing her abundant golden hair dressed to Gree. It is the artist who is rendering our city famous, Mrs K. P. Junkett. We understand that the elderly gentleman at- tending Mrs Junkett, is her father, Dr. Pell"
 Her father! Didn't love that editor? Why couldn't he have said grandfather" and made an end of it? An! we'll. During this time Kitty was toiI- ing, all day, like the slave Miss Pen Trot- terby called her, and rushing about from one reception to another in the evening. She tried to live a quiet life, she said, but, ah me, when one is famousl One night we went to political meeting and were cheered. That was the night when the old lady behind me mentioned Kitty again as ''my daughter" By-and-by they got way of dragging her off to sit with distinguished people on the platform, ,and l sat in the gallery and looked at her. only did 1t once, though. went to par ties with her and heard ''Mrs Junkett and her husband" down the rooms. Summer came, and Saratoga was informed that ''Mrs Junkett and family were stopping at the Union." Abernethy Haven, who wrote that famous treatise on ''luxations of the femur," ran against me in the street, one day, without so much as a "beg your pardon" That evening he was presented to my wife; the next morn. ing he came rushing across the club-room, leaping over sofas and knocking down chairs to shake hands, and call me this dear fellow;" all this because I was 'ATrs Junkett's husband" To be sure,I SUD- pose it was all right At least, Miss Pen Trotterby said so. (she had come round again looking more like Q guide-post gone into mourning than ever.) "You ought to be thankful that you have wife to raise you out of the abysses of oblivion in which you would be otherwise immers- ed" was the graphic remark of this "fa- male." She said several other things, and intimated pretty strongly that it was my jealousy of her transcendent abilities which caused me to discourage my wife in her artistic career. An well, men are men, and women are women, and nature is nature. All logic, and all divinity couldn't compel the turkey -gobbler of Mrs Stowe's minister to ''set" on eggs, and all my reasoning could not persuade me out of the notion that, somehow, had got into an ''erroneous position.
 Had broken my neck in those days-I was nearer doing it than any one suspect ed-I verify suppose the casualty would have been noised abroad as the "fracture of the aeck of the husband of the distin- guished Mrs Junkett. Had I died of slow decline, I've no doubt my epitaph the following wise,-
 | 'Afaictions sore
 1 Long time Mrs Junkett's husband bore, 1 And doctors were in vain.
 I sometimes feared that my arrival in 4bo Nolock;o1 oil kb;a '.great tribulation," I was so fortunate as to"enter into oheaven'-wOuld be annOunc- ed as that of 'Mrs Junkett's husband" But this last disturbed me less than sOma other things.
 I grew gray and wrnkled in those years kitty grew thin. The red went out of her cheeks and began to settle in purple rings about her eyes once more. No won- der, for she was trying to do her duty in a four-fold state as wife, mother, artist, and woman of the world. As remem- Der it, think, of all flesh, she alone gave me credit for being the man was. When scholars and men of art and science turn ed their backs on me at my own table, it was left for Kitty to turn them about again by one of her gentle references to my decision They appealed to the wife, the wife appealed to the husband.
 
 l I am sure I should not have survived to tell the tale.
 It was when the boy was three years old and this sort of thing had been going on for two years or more, that began to amuse myself with writing. had plen- 1 ty of leisure while my wife was away and [ found myself taking kindly to the pen. There were certain subjects connected with my profession which WAS minded to elaborate, and before I knew it found myself hurrying to my desk at night and staying three hours after should have been in bed. All the while Kitty grew paler and I. grayer. She was painting 1 her picture of Cassandra. Blarney Co. were persistent and the world of art ex- pectant. Therefore she toiled on long af- ter she should have stopped.
 1 There came Q day when the men from Blarney's carried Cassandra down our front stairs. It.was done at last. was correcting the proofs of my book. dashed home and into the office and away again. At dusk that evening was feel 1 ing old Mundorum's pulse, watch in hand, when note was brought me. It was in Grisel's hand, cramped and misspelled. The year the baby was born Kitty had taught the girl to read and write. The message read;- 1 sMissus Junkits ravin Crazy 1 . griselda.
 That night at midnight my poor wife lay dying. So believed and so Aberne- 1 thy Haven admitted. In the dressing room lay the baby, our little daughter who had never breathed, and walked mp and down in speechless bitterness. | Kitty did not die, though for weeks her life hung by a thread. found out what Abernethy Haven was then. And when, as Kitty was beginning to creep once more about the room, though like a ghost, when Blarney & Go. failed and her little savings were lost, when was laid up for six months myself with "nervous prostration," and he was with me every day, when all this was done and I asked