Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1880-04-22
(From Blackwood's Magazine.]
THE PHILOSOPHERS BABY.

[ had been considering for about ,
year whether I should marry Winifrei
Hanway, when heard that she was en-
gagged to the Philosopher. Why did sht
accept him? It is true that he is botf
imaginative and critical, but faculties
exercised in the formation of psycholog.
1cal hypothesis, and the laboring de-
structlon OF those Of ones neighbor dc
not usually rouse the sympathy of q
bright and beautiful girl, who is more
lit to live than to think about life He
IS certainly handsome, but as certainly
his clothes are barbarous. His trousers
can't keep their shape for day, and his
mats are never new. If he notices the
rain, he opens an umbrella which might
have served as an Intellectual protection
at the time of the deluge; if he finds out
that it is cold, he assumes a garment
which might have been the everyday
coat of Methuselah. His manners are as
strange as his appearance. Hemay often
be seen walking in the park at the FASH
lonable hour with a far-off look in his
eyes, and his hat thrust back as if to
lessen the external pressure on his active
brain; more rarely you may hear him
bursting into enthusiasm in Piccadilly,
though Piccadilly is the last place in
which man should allow himself to be
enthusiastic. In short, though he is a
true friend, he is an uncomfortable &C.
quaintance; and his volcanic utterances.
after long periods of calm contemplation.
cause such shocks to ones nerves as
would be conveyed to the Sunday citi-
zen by the eruption of Primrose Hill.
But if it was odd that the beautiful Win
fired Hanway should marry my friend.
it was yet more odd that he should marry
any one. There were no topics more
certain to excite an explosion in the
philosopher than the excessive popula-
ton of the country, and the wholesome
solitude of the thinker. "How," he
would fiercely ask, "can a man think
efectually on fundamental subjects. who
is compelled by the despicable circum-
stances of his life to exhaust his analyti-
cal faculty in considering how to pay his
butcher and when to buy his Goals? II
tell you, sir, it's better to starve with
cold and hunger than to debase ones no.
blest part to a game of skill with grasp
ing grocer" Again and again I had
heard him declaim in this perposterous
fashion; and after all, he was going to
the altar like any other victim, and would
doubtlessly take house upon his back
with the docility Of snail.
could not solve the problem; I would
not give it up. So, full of the determi-
nation to drag Diogenes out of his tub.
1 stepped round the corner to offer nv
congratulations. My friend was in his
study apparently writing, really eating a
quill pen. He rose at me with rush.
wrung my hand till it ached, and blushed
rather uncomfortably. Congratulations
are the curse OF the Briton. Whether
he is offering them or receiving them,
he is generally obliged to take refuge in
1ntermlttent handwriting, and most of
his sentences tail off into grunts and
groans. But on this occasion it was
evident that the philosopher had some
thing ready to say, and was nervously
anxious to say it. Indeed T had hardly 1
said more than ssMy dear fellow, I don't
know when r X I really am so aw-
fulls glad. I * it'sn every way /
SO, such satisfactory, you know * <
l really do wish all possible, and all that
sort of thing you KNOW when he burst {
in with speech SO fuently delivered,
that I knew I was not his earliest visitor {
that morning. "Of course it's taken {
you by SURPRISE" he said, "as I knew it
would; but the truth is, that have been
Of it for q long time, and I am !
sure I am right" Here I tried to get in I
an impression of wonder at his new no.
ton of duty, but be was bent on being
rid of the matter, and hurried on to his s
"In the first place." said he.
II am sure that, instead Of increasing
my domestic worries, my marriage will {
transfer them in body to my wife; and, I
secondly, when I consider the vast num- t
Der OF fools that are every day born into I
the world, am terrified by the picture
Of what the next generation wilt be, if 6
The thinkers Of this are to be without i
successors" Having discharged his rea
sons in this wise, the orator stood blink I
ing at me as if he feared dissent, but I +
was too astounded by his magnificent '
audacity to reply. Slowly look of {
peace stole back into his face, pleasant t
light dawned in his eyes, and the promise r
of smile played at the corner of his c
mouth. His remarkable fuency was t
gone, and indeed his voice sounded quite f
,hoky when he said: "Johnny. Won G
lon't know what an angel she is. A ]
light broke in upon me. ssPhiloso- q
oher," I said, 81 believe you are going t
% be married because you fell in love %
g Perhaps you are right" said the phil f
,sopher. t
After the wedding the Philosopher and
lis wife went abroad for an indefinite i
period, and their friends heard but little v
II them. He wrote to nobody, and she t
lid not write to me. Yet there we're &C. g
,asional rumors. Now they were breath q
ng the keen air of the Angadine, now e
sinking to the chestnuts and vines of \
he Chiavenna; now he was lashing him I
'ef to frenzy over the treasures Of Rome; q
low she was gazing with sweet northern t
eyes across the glowing splendor of the (
Bay of Naples. Then they were in E
Germany, and were about to settle for s
ife in a university town; but anon had t
led from it in haste, after long nights i
lisputes in the course of which nv learn
d friend had well-nigh come to blows 4
With the universities most celebrated t
professor. ..- ........... q
At last heard that they were again d
D London, and, full of enthusiasm, l
[arted round the corner to welcome them f
!ome. Nobody was with them but Mrs. v
1anway, Winifred's mother. I would f
inter- unannOunced and surprise the h