Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1880-06-12


to ne: 'sHe Is mad Besides what was the
good of talking to him? We do not speak the
same language. He would not nave understood
me any more than l unde \, s,S him And
other feel the hatred In his eyes, and yet
have affection for him. 1t Is very painful.
THE HUSBANDS VERSION
had thought OF everything and taken all my
precautions. / did not want q Parisienne. be-
cause the Parisiennes frightened me. did not
her whole train OF exigence5 feared also the
family, that terrible entwining of vulgar. en-
crossing affections which imprison, diminish
and stlie man; so NY wife was Just the ideal Of
owe everything to me. What JOY to form that
artless mind to fine things, to initiate that pure
sou SOU INTO my enthusiasms, my hopes to give
She had indeed the air of a statue, with her
large, serious and calm eyes, her regular Greek
profile, her slightly sharp and severe features,
oGe tempered oy that softness OF youthful WIS.,
ages, that rose tinted down, and the shade of
nlted hair: Add to that little provincial
accent which was my delight. and which I
nstened 10 with my eyes closed as souvenir
OF happy ch1ldhood. the echo of TRANQUIL life
10 lar distant unknown corner. And to think
that now that accent has become unbearable to
mel. But at that time had faith. loved,
was happy, and disposed to be still more hap
Ply. Full of ardor for work, had, as soon as I
was married, begun new poem and In the
evening l used to read to her the verses that I
hou HduC tIlc udy. i WlSle0 10 make
her enter completely into my existence The
first few times she said to me: at is pretty
80" and was grateful to her for that childish
appreciation, hoping that In time she would
comprehend better what made my life.
Unhappy woman! how l must have wearied
her! After having read her my verses used
10 explain them to her, seeking in her fine,
ing to see 1t there always. l used to oblige her
10 give me her opinion. and used to glide over
the silly observations and retain only the good
things with which chance inspired her.
should so much have desired to make her my
true wife, the wife OF an artist But no! She
did not understand. 1t was In vain that READ
10 ner the great poets, the strongest and the
most tender; the golden rhymes Of love poems
fell before her with the tireSOmeneSS and cold
ness OF storm OF rain. Once. remember, we
were reading the Mat FOctO6re; she interrupt.
ed me 10 ask for something more serious. I
then tried to explain to her that there Is
nothing more serious in the world than poetry,
which is the very essence of life and floats
above 1t like vibrating light in which words and
thoughts are selected and TRANSPORTED. Oh!
the disdaintul smile of her pretty mouth and
the condescendence of her look You would
have said that she had been listening to Child
ora mailman.
What strength and eloquence have wasted
upon her, all to no purpose. 1t was all In vain
was perpetually butting against what she
called good sense, reason, that eternal excuse
OF dry hearts and narrow minds And 1t was not
only poetry that bored her. Before our mar
rage / had believed her to be musician. she
seemed to comprehend the pieces that she
played, all underlined by her professor She
had hardly been married when she closed her
piano and gave up music. Do you know any
thing more sad than this abandonment by the
woman of everything that pleased In the girl?
AFTER having given the cue and finished her role
the 1ngenue quits her costume. All that was
Only In view OF marriage, mere surface of
attle talents, pretty smiles and passing ele-
gance. In her case the change was inStanta-
neouS. had at first hoped that the taste which
L was unable to give her, the Intelligence of art
and OF beauty would come to her In spite of
herself La that admirable Paris where the eyes
and the intellect grow fine without our know
ing 1t. But what can you do with a woman
who does not know how to open a book or to
look at picture, who is bored by everything
ana VINO does not want to see anything? l I'M
derSto0d at length that should have TO resign
myself TO having nothing but an active and
economical hOuSekeeper-Oh! very economical.
Woman according to Proudhon, and that is all
/ should have accepted my fate so many artists
are In my position. But that modest role was
not sufficient for her.
Little by little slyly silently, she had managed
10 drive away all my friends. In her presence
we did not stand upon ceremony. We talked
as We had always talked and of our artistic ex-
aggerat1OnS, OF those wild aXiOms of those par
ad0xes in which the idea is traveStied in order
the better 10 smile, she understood neither the
fantasy nor the irony. All that only frritated
and confused her. Seated In a corner of the
salon, she listened without saying anything,
promising Prom S herself to eliminate, one by one,
apparent welcome, people already began to feel
that little current OF cold air which warns you
that the door Is half-Opened and that Iu will be
soon time to go away.
When my friends were gone she replaced
them by her own. l saw myself invaded by
stupid people, who were strangers to art, tire
some, and With profound contempt for poetry
because 1T does not pay" Purposely they used
10 cite before me the names of the popular
scr1bblers, manufacturers OF plays and novels
oy tne ;, dozen: "So-and-so makes lot of
Making money Is everything for these mon
SterS, and l had the pain of seeing my wife
Think with them. In these sinister surround
1ngs all her provincial habits, her mean and
1m1ted views still Shrank up into an incredible
avarice.
Fifteen thousand francs of income! It seemed
TO me that with that one might live without
complaining, talking Of economy, of reforms. of
advantageous investments. The more she over
Whelmed me with those stupid details, 1 felt the
t taste and desire for work leaving me- Some
times she would come to my table and turn
over disdainfully the verses that had begun
SIS that all? she would say counting the hours
that had been lost over those insignificant little
lines. All! II / had listened to her that noble
title OF poet which have spent so many years
10 win would now be dragging In the mire of
productions outrance. And when 1 think
that 1t was to this same woman at first poured
forth all my heart, all my dreams. When I
think that this disdain which she shows for me
b6 cause i do not make money, dates from the
Iii 81 uIOulcuIS OI marriage, truly am ashamed
for myself and for her.
do not make money! That explains every
thing, the Representatives, of her look her ad.
mlratlOn for productive cOmmonplaces, even
these measures which she took recently in or
der to obtain some place In a ministerial
bureau.
All, resisted. There is nothing left me but
that, an inert will, proof against all assaults
and all persuasion. She may talk for hours and
freeze me with her coolest smile, my thought
escapes her and always Will escape her. And
gether. separated by whole leagues and we are
TOO weary, too discouraged to make one step,
the one towards the other. And here we are for
life. 1t is horrible.
THE OLD WAY,