Weekly Trinity journal., 1877-04-07
Why KITTY DIDN'T KILL
HERSELF.

Miss Kitty Gibson aged 10, eyes blue,
complexion peachy, health perfect, had
made up her mind to die.
This decision had been reached after
mech deep reflection, some sharp twingcs
Of re grit, and fierce conflict with con-
science nevertheless, it had been reach
ed with unalte,able frmness. Perhaps
physiognomist would have declared
that e mness was not a quality Of mind
pose -ed by Miss Kitty Gibson, and by so
declaring he would have proved simply
tn absutdity Of his own science. w hat
thou n her chin was not square and angu
lar, after the manner Of Joan of Ares
did that Indicate Il lack Of courage, self
reliance, or determination May not blue
eyes sometimes look out from as fanom-
les depths rs black /? And may not II
tx i resolution form itself in the breast
OF 4 pretty, ppachy- y-cheolted girl Of 10 us
well a. in the maturer hosoms of aqui
inod noscd maideus? Thus would Kitty
Gibson have reasoned with any physiog
nouist who might have intruded his Oh
noxjou2 arg ments upon her, as she sat
on a certain winter, day, gazing out Of
the kitchen window.
Th" question of speedy death had been
settled b youd all quibble or doubt, and
it remained now only for this young
lady OF suicidal p'ocliyites to determine
what mems ,he should employ to con-
summate her design. A pistol would be
quick and effective, but there wasn't a
pistol in the house. Poison, particularly
S y hune presented itself to her mind
asa Mecca for all dcath-covrting maid
ems but there was the difficulty Of pro-
Gu ng tn drug-of reaching the Mecca
What would Hiram Gr,wold think If
sna were to 60 to the village store and
ak HIM for an ounce of strychnine
Md would one ounce be enough ? Shr
m ght hang herself in the barn, but thu;
was more properly a ma>cu inc method
O. seli-destruction. She might cut her
throat with Uncle RanGolph's razor, bui
tora lingering recollection Of the Difficult
ty She had experienced in sharpening
lea penGls with that venerable instru-
mrnt. Besides, such a plan would d S
III ure her drcadiuly, and she desired
nboy- Nil things, TO be neat and come
ly-looking corpse. There was yet anoth
er way open tor her, and that was the
river. This impressed her more favora
bly, than either pistol or poison, rope or
razor. Even such sensible h-roiues a.
til 'so who figure in George Eiot's novels
we given to watery graves, and drown
/ e seemed at once the simplest, the most
agreeable, and the most romantic method
OF p tling an eud to her burdensome ex
istence. The river it should be-thc
broad, swift Connecticut, which flowed
wi hin half mile Of Uncle Handolph's
house, and which seemed ias the precise
element, to Uncle Rnndolph's pretty
niece, designed by Providence TO afford
her moist and peaceful exit from this
dry and warning world. She would
drown herself just as soon as the ice melt
ed. And, thi, welghty question having
!een decided, Mis-, Kitty Gibson rose up
from her seat, filed the tea-kettle with
water, and rcplenshed the fire with
stick of wood.
Except they be insane, girls Of 10, with
comfortable homes and good dige-tions,
do net make up their minds TO drown
themselves without cause. | will not
say without sufficient cause, since that
might plunge me into defence of suicide
Under possible conditons-a line of argn-
me t which no Christian story teller
would care to follow. Kitty Gibson was
II 1t insane, but she believed that crcum-
stances rendered cxcusable the step she
was abo II to take, tGat is, a step into the
o meet Gu river. Called upon to ana
lyze and explain +hese circumstances,
she would have brought forth as the re
suit o her self-searching, first, love unre-
eiprocated next, pride deeply wounded;
and last, heart which she believed to be
broken so hopelessly that not ever the
ma i of times cement could mend it.
A month before Kitty Gibson was the
happi ST, as we'll as the prettiest girl in
tlr S ate of Connecticut at least that is
what everybody who knew her said, and
no uht that is what Kitty herself
thought, although she did not, Of course
acknowledge the fact to others. A month
before, and she was counting the days
until spring, until the dawn of that bios
sony May, when she was to he married.
What was it that had turned the thoughts
ofthis young lady from bridal wells to
poison, pistols and other horrible subjects?
What could it be, except quarrel with
) 'ek? Obviously, nothing. Obviously,
Kitty and Jack had qua.rcIed