The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1880-01-28
MISPLACED SYMPATHY.
BY EDNA c.

Simon MIX anu MS Vile were blltlnG at
the breakfast table, which. being an every
day occurrence. seems unworthy of remark.
There was evidently a slight misunderstand-
ing between them. Perhaps that, also, was
an everyday occurrence, but ~"deponent saith
not" They were not quarreling-oh, mol
Serena Mix was far too gentle and yielding
to quarrel, however much her coarse, prosaic
brute of a husband might rasp her sensitive
poetic nature. She was wont to remark, in
her sweet, fearful voice, that only once in her
clouded life had she met a kindred spirit; one
who understood and sympathized with the
finer feelings of her soul perfectly-her first
husband, Stephen Buzzard; "but"-and here
she sobbed-'he was snatcbed away, and he
was glad to go. l was left to tread the weary
way alone, for Simon never understands me,
poor mani but he means we'll"
But ali this time Simon has been stirring
his cold coffee with a sulky jerk, and his wife
sits over her u~ntasted roll with a smile on
her face, much like John Rogers must have
worn at the stake. She choked back a sob
and remarked sadly:
"Never mind, love, don't let my wishes
conflict with your pleasure. 1t is of no con-
sequence"
aBut, Serena, 1 tell you 1 can not afford
it. If l satisfy all of your demands l might
as well GO into bankruptcy
Simon dear" reprOachfully, edo L ever
'demand'2 No. l merely made the request;
but" sitting another sob, cit is no matter"
Where is the blue silk you wore to En-
erson's party? Surely it is not worn out"
She smiled heroically.
at is out of style, love. Rather than have
the rematks repeated, which 1 could not
hearing that evening. about my husbands
chosen 8, 1 will remain at home
Simon looked uncomfortable. He would
not, for the world. wrong the gentle lady BY
~intimating that that was the way she want
ed him to look.
But we are to poor, Serena, to keep up
with the styles, and if our quarters bills are
not paid tomorrow, even our credit will be
gone"
"My sainted Buzzard used to remark that
It was his pride TO owe no man, and with
such a wife as YOU are, Serena but tears
choked her, and for a few moments the
silence was unbroken save by the sound of
her weeping.
Simon pushed back his chair with a crash.
allow much do you want2' he snarled.
"Nothing unless given willingly CULVER
ed the martyr. 10, Buzzard, how YOU en-
joyed seeing your wife well dressedl"
"Go to Miller's and get what you want"
growled Mix, and slammed the door vicious
ly, as he was dragging his coat on in the hall.
A voice gentle as a summer zephyr was
waited from the dining room:
''Simonl'
He hesitated.
"SiSimonsl - He went back.
"Are you going to leave me so?r He
submitted to a watery kiss.
She gave him an imploring look.
"Dont go to Martins tonight for my
sakel'
This was the last straw on the cameT's
back. Mr.. Mix dashed out of the house,
kicking over a chair in his exit, and making
the air blue with unscriptural language, and
followed by a frantic wall:
'eOh my Buzzardl my Buzzardr'
Now what induced Mrs. Mix to repeat this
request of her husband was known only TO
herself, Mr.. Mix being a strictly moral and
upright man, who never had seen the inside
of drinking and gambling den, as Martins
was.
Nevertheless, she persisted in believing and
making a large circle of her friends believe
that it was only by her sanity example
and influence that Simon Mix was saved from
rushing headlong toa drunkard's grave, with
Martin s for his starting point.
He walked into his Office without noticing
his partner and chum, Dick Wilkins. The
' WdICucQ min III eiAcutt u MlluuLe, With
q smile on his round, jolly face. At last he
burst out with:
"Mixl By the great horned spoon you
look as if you had been dieting on bowie
knives. What's the matter? Wife been
bullyragging you again."
"Bullyragl" returned Mix. spitefully; |
show 1 wish she would. If she would only
get mad and storm l would be happy; but
she don't She just weeps. Dick, did you
ever feel too little and mean and contempt
IDLE TO live. and still not know what you have
done to merit such a loss of s~elf-respect7"
"No. Mix" answered Dick. commiserat-
ingly; Il was never married, you know"
"That's so" sighed the poor fellow; 1but
how that woman does run on. j believe she
is worked by water power"
Darn herr suggested Dick with more
force than was strictly necessary. A faint
smile fitted across the gloomy face. There