Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1877-08-08
WHY KITTY DID NOT KILL HERSELF.

WHY NIFTY DID NOT ALL HERSELF.
Miss Kitty Gibson, aged nineteen,
eyes blue, complexion peachy, health
perfect, had made up her mind to die.
The question Of a speedy death had
been settled beyond all bubble of
doubt and it remains now only for
this young lady of suicidal proclivities to
determine what means she should em-
ploy to consummate her. design. A
pistol would be quick and effective, but
there wasn't pistol in the house.
Poison, particularly strychnine, present
edltself to her mind as Mecca for all
death-covetlng maidens; but there was
the difficulty of procuring the drug-of
reaching the Mecca. What would Hi
ram Griswold think if she were to go to
the village store and ask him for an
ounce Of strychnine? and would one
ounce be enough ? She might hang her.
self in the barn, but that was more
properly masculine method of self
destruction. She .might cut her throat
. with Uncle Randolph's razor. but for a
lingering recollection Of the difficulty
she had experienced in sharpening lead
pencils with that venerable instrument.
Besides. such plan would disfgure her
dreadfully, and she desired, above all
things to be neat and comely-lcoking
corpse. There was yet another way
open to her, and that was the river
This impressed her more favorably than
either pistol or poison. rope or razor.
Even such sensible heroines as those
who figure III George Eliot's novels
were given to watery graves, and drown
ing seemed at once the simplest. the
most agreeable and most romantic meth
cd Of putting an end TO her burden
some existence. The river it should be
the broad. swif. Connecticut, which
flowed within half mile of Uncle Ran
dolph's house. and which seemed at
that precise moment to Uncle Ran
dolph's pretty niece designed by Provi-
dence to afford her moist and peaceful
exit from this dry and warning world
She would drown herself just as soon as
the ice melted. And, this weighty
question having been decided, Miss
Kitty Gibson rose up from her seat,
filed the tea kettle with water and re-
plenished the fire with stick Of wood.
Except they be insane, girls of nine
teen, with comfortable homes and good
digestions, do not make up their minds
to drown themselves without a cause.
Kitty Gibson was not insane, but she
believed that circumstances rendered
excusable the step she was about to
take, that is, step into the Connecti-
cut River. Called upon to analyze and
explain these circumstances, she would
have brought forth as result of her
selfsearching, first, love unreciprocated
next, pride deeply wounded; and last,
heart which she believed to be broken
so hopelessly that not even the magic
Of Times cement could mend it. A
month before, Kitty Gibson was the
happiest as well as the prettiest girl in
the State of Connecticut; at least that
is what everybody who knew her said,
and no doubt 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
blossomy May, when she was to be
married. What was it that had turned
the thoughts of this young lady from
bridal wells to poisons, pistols and 9th
er horrible subjects? What couldi it be,
except quarrel with Jack? Obviously,
nothing! Obviously, Kitty and Jack
had quarreled.
Now there are Jacks and Jacks in
this world. but, with the single excep-
ton Of Jack Burroughs, Kitty Gibson
cared nothing for the whole pack of
Jacks. He was her right bower, with
which she fully intended to play life's
game, and make all the points desira-
BILE. That. at least, had been her in
tention a month before. But now
now, alas ! she had turned him down.
The mustard seed from which had
sprung this many-branched tree of mis-
cry had taken root at Helen Clapp's
party. Indeed. Helen herself might be
termed the seed. With Helen, Jack
had danced the opening reel, which
everybody knew was shocking breach
of etiquette. He ought to have danced
with Kitty, with his affianced BRIDE
Like the spirited young woman she
was, Kitty Gibson punished her lover
by accepting an invitation TO supper
from Cyrus Phelps. Jack was dumb
founded at this behavior, while Kitty
enjoyed her triumph, and ate her ice
cream demurely. II is to be confessed
that Cyrus Phelps was not the most
agreeable Of companions; that his
range of conversation was limited to
the weather and to the condition of the
oats and that, whenever he attempted
to strike out into broader fields, he lost
himself completely in the marshes of
grammar and the pitfalls of language.
Kitty did not care for this, however,
She was watching out of the corners of
her bright eyes, and with a CLEAN of
satisfaction, the forlorn face of Jack
Burroughs; and she accepted Cyrus,
with his plural subjects and singular
verbs, as necessary adjunct to the in
Fiction Of her righteous punishment
When the hour for going home arrived,
Kitty, bundled in shawls and flrs, took
her seat by Jacks side in the, cutter, but