The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1874-10-01
'TENTY SCRAN'..

Patience hath borne the bruise and the stroke"
CONCLUDED FROM LAST WEEK
What makes me always put love
into a story, Aunt Grundy? Why,
because love is popular; because
nine-tenths of the people who read
smile to see the first and faintest
hint of the tender passion in what
they read; because story without
love is like bricks without straw; be-
cause life without it is life no
doubt comfortable to lead, but unin-
teresting to hear. Love is your only
democrat; Ethelinda in Fifth Aven-
ue, glittering with the clear splendor
of diamonds, and rustling like a
white-birch-swamp with pale silks,
cleaning through the twilight before
an opera, and looking violets at Sydney
Hamilton over the top of her inlaid
fan, is no more thrilled and rapt and
tortured by the Disturber in Wings,
than Biddy in the kitchen, holding
tryst with her "b'y" at the sink-room
window. Thousands of years ago,
Theseus left Ariadne tearing the rip
pies of her amber-bright hair, and
tossing her white arms with the toss
ing surf, in vain agony of distrac-
ton and appeal: poets have sung the
Irritation, painters have painted it;
the story is an eternal legend of pain
and passion, Illuminated with lucent
tints of age and the warm South, out
lined with the statuesque purity of
classic scenery and classic diction !:
but myself never for moment be-
lieved that Ariadne was particle
more unhappy or pitiable than Nan
cy Bunker, our seamstress, was, when
Hiram Fem went West to peddle es-
sences, and married female Hoosier
whose father owned half prairie.
They would by no means make as
lovely picture; for Nancy's upper
jaw projects, and she has a wart on
her nose, very stiff black hair, and a
shingle figure, none of which adds
grace to a scene and Hiram went off
in the Slabtown stage, with tin-box
on his knees, instead of in a she'll
shaped boat with silken sails; but I
know Nancy reads love-stories with
great zest, and I know she had slow
fever after Hiram was married. For,
after all, love is the same thing ever
since Paradise,-the unwearying ira
dition, the ever new presence, the rap
ture or the anguish unspeakable; and
while 'Tenty Scran' sat and sewed at
Squire Halls new linen pantaloons
she set every stitch with a sigh, and
sewed on every button with a pane
that would have made Ariadne put
both arms round her, and kiss he,
long and close, a sister in bonds,-
though purple robes with jewelled
borders, cresceted pearls, and armletE
| of gold, would not have been at all
congruous hugging a sixpenny calico
with linen collar.
Not that Ned neglected 'Tanty; HI
could not follow herabout from hous'
to house, and she had done sewing 70,
his mother, and in the evening Aun
why always needed her. But more
than once he joined her after church
walked home to the door with her
and cheered her simple soul with hi
familiar looks and tones, and word
of praise that made Adriadne Scran
think Theseus Parker a little more thai
mere man, something altogether adora
BILE. However, she knew he was having
very good time when he didn't se
her at all. The real reason why sh
ached and sighed over Squire Hall
pantaloons was, that she Ned il
the next room helping Hannah-An1
Hall pack up the dinner for thei
grand Snake Hill picnic, and divert
| ing the same Hannah-Ann with sue
wit and humor and frolic, that she d.
clared several times she shoul
split, and begged him not to be g
funny.
|, Now 'Tenty never had pleasar
day, unless Ned was with her,
had got az far as that; and the ide
that he could and did enjoy himse
thoroughly and heartily without h
> was dull pang that ate into her sol
continually, and made her forlor1
Oh, these women! these pitiful ere
lures! not mangnanimity enough
a whole race of them to be visible
1 the naked eye! jealous dogs-in-th
manger! Ifthey weren't useful dome
tically, I should vote for having the
: exterminated from this great gene
. GUS world, and give place to son
J. better institution, which no dou