The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1883-03-23


often look upon surging crowd and
know that there is an ebb and flow OF
thought. / would rather know the
thoughts than the thinkers, wouldn't
you?'
Il should like to, il it were possible to
do it without asking impertinent ques-
lions. If knew your thoughts, for in
stance, / would have beautiful guide
TO win woman's love-"
She turned to greet the postman, who
brought her several letters, and without
deigning reply other than "Mr. Rod
man, L have had pleasant morning. L
will be pleased to have you call when
you return to the city. go to-day"
Then she retired to her room to read
letter from her father, and she, when
she read, Remember, daughter, you
are both beautiful and wealthy; when
you fall in love see that it is man who
equals you in both" Then she thought
of the words of Keats:
Love in a cottage with water and a crust
Is, Love forgive US, water, ashes, dust.
Sober thought, that fashions the out
lines of things and reveals the powder
patches of fancy, brought her to her
self, and the cold, calculating woman,
that moves in the social world and
courts the happiness OF the frequency OF
dress parades, appeared.
No ideal life for her. no ethereal ex-
istence, no self-abnegation, no thought
of exquisite bliss, no dreams of Sc
cluded life, but the reality of conquest
stamped cold, disdaining look upon
her features, and the fragrance of the
morning aroma was wasted. Within
the secret existence of self, yet Ethel
Ferris loved the ideal man, and Louis
Rodman was the man.
Rodman, a genius, whose path in life
lay along the line of daily toll and hard
crucial experience, turned from the
morning conversation to labor with his
hands and build fancy pictures in the
air of ideal forms and virtues. He pom
dered: Beautiful and intelligent, lovely
and coy rs Arethusa; charming in man
ner and graceful III movement. | love
her, yet fear to touch, for the idol
must be worshiped, not possessed.
The Greeks never revered the house
hold gods like they did Jove. The
flower that grows on the rock beyond
my reach seems the most perfect.
The summer passed and the winter
approached, but the idol of Louis Rod
mans heart was perfect. He had
planned a hundred creeds and erased
every article; had seen as many more
ideal faces, and under his close analy-
sis the ideal became mere clay, of no
more interest than the face of a heather
god, and at last he was forced to ex-
claim: Human nature does not satisfy
the critic of it's kind more than it does
the author of all. The idol away is
idolized still; but, when present too
long, the idol is shattered.
Again he meets the lovely and
piquant Ethel Ferris in her luxurious
home in the city. The woman is his
highest standard, the gold she pos
sesses is to him naught but brass.
She greeted him with the loveliest,
the sweetest Of smiles. 1t was the old,
old story, the noblest of human pas
sions; that of love asserting itself.
81 thought you had forgotten me,
she said.
"The devoted never forget the OBJ
ject," was his reply.
81 was angry that you did not come
or write"
81 am glad that you were angry"
Il am afraid the effort would not have
been pleasing to you"
81 should like TO see the angry fire
leap in your eyes and consume your
smile"
81 shall grasp that idea and run away
with.it if you do not talk seriously to
me.
"Then may L ask you, how many
men have fallen before you?"
MIR. Rodman, L am not Hercules
nor Theseus.
mo, you are an Armida to-day"
"Mr Rodman, Armida was q sor-
ceress."
"She was q bewitching woman, and
to devote his life to her"
"The remark does not please me,
anyhow"
Il do not try to please you"
"Why are you so ungallant? ?"
"What is the use of adding sweetness
to a rose?"
at seems to me you have mistaken
the flower. A rose has thorn"
"Yes, / know, it has pierced my
heart; until now I thought it was
Cupid's darts.
He was gay and erratic, corWscating
with wit and repartee, ever watchful
and critical to see if his case had any
! favorable features. He watched her,
but he might as well have watched the
growth of an apple, for Ethel was on
her guard, and play generally met with
play.
Enthral ed by her smile, thrilled by
the touch of her hand, he forgot the
pleasures of bachelors life, ,rgot the
companionship of the club, forgot all,
save that the ideal woman stood before
him, and then, placing his hand on her
shoulder, he gently pressed upon her
| forehead with the other, then stopped
and kissed her for full minute.
"You are my ideal, my love. love
you"
II know it," she replied archly.
rs that the only answer you have to
give me?"
Il am the mad torrent of your exist
ence. Quench not your thirst, the
|