The Hickman courier. [volume] (Hickman, Ky.) 1859-current, 1877-09-21
A Struggle of Genius.
BY E. c. t.

| his Is q sordId world" unused Bet
sey, as she put three stitches in place of
two, and carried her thread in the wrong
| direction. This is sordid world and
women are the chief sufferers. What
shall we eat, and what shall we wear
These questions with their answering,
take up the average wonan's lifetime.
If picnic is proposed, the happy chill
dren dance about and chatter of wading
and swinging; the men straightway see
visions of green banks and deep, still
water, and strings of shining bass and
| pickerel; but a woman's first thought,
and last one, toe-what shall we wear,
and whatShall we eat Daisied meads
and ferDy woods are shut from her view
by b1oiled chicken, plates, preserves, table
linen, pickle bottles and lunch baskets
Women are greatly to blame" con
fessed Betsey, as she darned blue eyes
into the head of the dog, * they have al
lowed themselves to be crowded into
rut, and they haven't sufficient nerve and
gumption to get out of it. Mr.. Train
says pint of milk and ten cents worth
of oatmeal are quite enough for a mans
daily food wish the world didn't call
Mr.. Train crazy"
Betsey held her worsted dog off ways
and surveyed it critically, the legs,
looked as if they were chopped off at the
knee instead of curled up under; the ears
were. uneven; the eyes too high in the
forehead for intellectual expression, and
the tail resembled a wandering cornstalk
Altogether, it was most unsatisfactory
creation and she folded it away, saving
her genius did not lie in the direction of
wOrsted work, and for her part she was
tharSiul her brain was not all in her
finger ends. She precipitately resolved to
get out of the ''rut."
Adonijah came in with a paper.
What's the news ." demanded Betsey.
breathlessly; have the Russians crossed
the Danube, and is the strike over"
She informed Adoniiah it was her opin-
ion that the Russians would get to Con-
stantinople first, for how could the Turks
run with those horrid bag trousers on ?
| Adonijah's face beamed like a moon
struck cloud; was his Betsey really go
ing to forsake her tides and magazine
stories and don the Dickinson mantle
How soon a film would have spread over
the new eye sparkle could he have known
about the milk and oatmeal coniab go
ing on in betsey's mind.
Yes; Betsey was going to lift her
chariot-whees out of the nut a deep rut,
worn by wheels for countless ages, and
very little filing had ratified IN She
must perform the herculean task herself
and the name Of Betsey Bunce' should
shine forth on the scroll of fame along
| side of " Lille Lynn and Damask Rose"
She would write piece OF poetry and do
it now Adonijah had gone to the store;
the children were playing Indian under
the backyard trees, and Alice Mabel was
the captive child, carried off in a blanket
Bctsey assembled the back stairs; poets
always dwell in an upper story. She
sought the poorest room-bright carpets
and sumptuous furniture lead ones mind
astray. She sat in an ancient straight
backed chair, and spread her utensils on
a yellow wash-stand. She glanced around
the not very light apartment as stealth
| lily as a thief, swayed back and forth in
/ her old lop-sided rocker and nibbled her
lead pencil vigorously. Presently she
wiped her nose toward the ceiling, the
lines of thought corrugated her brow and
the stubby pencil began to shove along