The Osceola times., 1880-08-28
MY OWN SUICIDE.
A Very French Story.

] had resolved TO kill myself; there
was no longer any doubt that Amelia
was faithless to me.
Let me be sure about twas it Ame-
| liza her name was? To think that she
once held my life, as it were, in her lit
| tie hand, and | can't recollect to save
my soul what her name was.
Anyhow, whoever she was, she had
proved false to me. and, "a | was very
young at the time, l had promptly come
to the resolution to destroy myself. My
| first intention was to go and blow out
my brains all over her stair carpet, but
then reflected that every one would
know that Henrietta-come to think of
1t her name was Henrietta-had infat-
Iated me and turned my head. NO."
said to myself. mo scandal, no pub
licityl Let me intimate the wounded
stag, which, seeking TO hide its fatal
hurt, betakes itself to the most secret
thickets, there to perish tar from all
human eyes,
In this elegiac disposition ! took the
$50 train for Melun, which set me down
Just at dusk within few steps of the
Golden Lion, very well kept inn with
DtuN anu a. tti!'itsii tublt.
"What will Monsieur have for supper"
said charming litllc mistress.
"Nething-supper would be a mock
cry. Show Inc my tomb-my room,
mean"
retired to my couch, but not to sleep.
In my fevered dream | beheld Victoria
i am confident it was Victoria after
all-passing, leaning upon the arm of
my hated rival. | clutched madly at
his throat and seized-the iron railing
OF the bedstead, or the marble slab OF
the little table by my bedside. l rose
unrefreshed, but what of that was
about to die hs! ha! TO die.
Having dressed myself / went in
search of rope. You may think that
vhen person wants to hang himself
nothing is easier than to find rope, but
| had to hunt the hotel high and low be-
fore could find one.
"What on earth do you want of
rope, Monsieur" said the pretty mistress
when finally she found me one.
With the precious bit of hemp in my
pocket ! took my way towards thicket
not far from the hotel in little wood
whose paths were familiar to me. There
was one lonely and gloomy copse. there
where well knew my lifeless body
would swing for weeks ere il was dis
covered.
Upon the road thought of Bertha-I
was wrong before; come to think of it,
it was Bertha-and cursed her with all
the bitterness of which my soul was
capable. then tested my cord II was
not such an agent of self-destruction as |
would have chosen had | had an assort-
ment from which to make a selection.
1t seemed to me both short and not up
to my weight. / was annoyed. You
cannot tell how a trife like that will at
feet persons temper at such moment.
A further disappointment was in store
for me. On arriving at the spot ! had
selected in advance | was disagreeably
surprised TO find some one else there.
An individual, whose back only | could
zee, was occupied in fastening a rope to
the most eligible branch of my tree.
Hello! What are You doing thereT
cried.
lie turned around. "What business is
il of yours, anyway" he said.
bah; don't you think | know what
you intend doing?'
well and supposing ! wanted to hang
myself-it's my own funeral-suicide |
mean"
regarded him narrowly. He was a
handso ue and manly young fellow of
about my own age, with frank and
winning countenance. lie was deadly
pale.
"This young man." said /, lifting my
hands to heaven, "was going to take his
life-his own precious lfe-all for the
sake ofa worthless jilt."
Sir" he cried.
Poor silly fool" went on, commun-
ing with myself aloud, "he would un
dertake to defend her. All lovers are
the same. Will YOU" Icontinued, take
my advice-the advice of well wisher? |
Just leave that cord there lit was stout.
er rope than mine, had observed). and |
60 quietly home like a good fellow. |
When you are yourself you will thank |
me for having given you such good adj
vice"
He shook his head gloomily. ~ de-
sire to die" he muttcred.
Don't let yourself be goaded into TAX
ing a step that if you were alive you
would regret tomorrow" | went on,
with benevolent persistence (you see
the fellow had prc-empted the only real
ly eligible bough in the wood.) when
you are dead 1t will be too late to change
your mind"
You speak to me without knowing
what misfortune has happened to me-"
81 can guess it,"
"No, you cannot guess it. SRA woman
that loved; n woman for whom"
And he went on to tell lne mis- story.
which, singularly enough, was precisely
like mine. The coincidence made
me pause moment to collect my
thoughts.
IL see" said Charles (he told me in the
course of his painful story that his name
was Charles), that your silence justlties
me-"
"By no means" cried. you will OBJ
erve that it would not ave been digni.
led for me TO abandon at once my for
ner position on the subject of suicide).
There is nothing whatever in all that
'ou have told me to justify you in TAX
ng your life. Come my friend" said |.
,ecoming really interested in his case /.
come, let us reason the matter out.
Why should you complain because you
ave been unfortunate in love? Don't
on know what the poet SAYS:
The lot Of the girls was to deceive Z.
Since winter first was snowy.
Women have been false to their lovers !,
'om all time; women will be false TO q
leir lovers to all time" \
But no woman has ever been so false !,
her lover as this woman was to me-" Sn
"I,Ots of 'em haveo