The Northern Pacific farmer. [volume] (Wadena, Minn.) 1878-1885, 1884-01-31
'chatted for awhile, and laughed to :
the inn-keeper dragging his lame

the inn-keeper dragging his lame
through the hall prior to closing
shutters. At last all was hushed; .,
rain had ceased; and they suddenly felt
themselves wrapped about with the
great silence and the deep solitude of q
country night. -
Without word she took the solitary
candle and placed it on the mantle
piece. before the dingy and fy.specked
cite. He, sitting in the great arm chair,
with feet crossed, watched her, drowSy
with contentment and fatigue. She had
dotted her dress and skirt, retaining
only the satin corset which clasped her
slender waist, and was lifting her some-
what slender arms gracefully above her
head to unfasten her hair, when she
saw in the glass her beloved smiling at
her; and in the glass she returned his
smile. How he loved her at that
To-day he is old, this writer of love
stories, this merchant of dreams. His
hair is grizzly; wrinkles have gathered
about his eyes, his stomach is weak-he
is broken down man, as they say.
This morning when he awoke, with
| bad taste in his mouth, and received
that notice he did not at first want to
go to the funeral. Why attend the fun
eral of man he despised? What was
the good of such hypocrisy? It was
literary s'comrade;". a confrere-how
ridiculous the worldt-hutan unscrup-
ulous fellow, a venal scribb1er. Never
theless, he had never done him any
harm. Quite the contrary. Without
any personal interest, just for pure good
will, that journalist had always showed
L., + 81 Inc, tn
| think of.-had praised him with fact;
and had even warmly defendeE him
| when he needed a defender. If they
| were not exactly friends they had Ger.
| tainly been comrades; they had shaken
hands on meeting each other, wheSler
in the street or at the theatre. Nor he
must certainly attend that funeral; he
| owed that much politeness to the dead
| man at all events.
And on that sloppy, rainy November
morning he shaved and dressed caller
than usual, breakfasted in haste,-,the
eggs were not fresh-phew!-) took a
cab which smelt of wet dog, and got late
to church, when the funeral was nearly
over.
"Portez-arnes! Presentz-armes!''
And the roll of muffled drums fell Up
on his ear.
What! Soldiers? All, yes! it is true!
there is Cross of Honor on the catafal-
uue. The deceased had obtained that
cross in the slime of political intrigue,
with which some female names were
scandalously mixed up. And the poet,
as he bowed down at the Elevation, felt
ashamed of the crimson ribbon that hYng
at his own breast. -
But since he came he might as we'll
remain to the end. The absolutlon is
r;x In fol} ho n
sprinkles a little holy water, re-enters
his cab, and the funeral procession
moves through the boulevards to the
cemetery. There the eternal and lrgu-
brious comedy of death is repeated; the
mourners who have been laughing all
the way about last nights scandal, now,
assume solemn or fearful expression of
countenance; the ridiculous orator lies
like quack in his funeral Grafton,
! worded especially for the purpose OF
putting himself. He foresees that, at
the exit he must again shake hands
with those whose touch is dishonor to
him. He slips aside before the end,
and after concealing moment behind a
magnificent monument erected to t.
! memory of drygoods merchant, hur-
ries away by an unfrequented path.
It has ceased to rain; but the sooty
sky, the dead leaves in the mud, the
black trees dripping upon the tombs, {he
unhealthy, epidemical winds sighirgNas
it passes-all are CHASTITY
Suddenly an lnexpressible sadness
falls upon the solitary dreamer. He re.
members that he is no longer young,
that he is no longer strong, that his life
is full of troubles and vexation, and that
his eo-called ''envied reputation" his
paper glory is nothing, absolutely Moth
ing! He says to himself that when he
shall be laid in the ground, soon, the
same will be done for him as for that
worthless man-there will be the same
rafting of riae-butts upon the paves
| ment, the same Indifferent mourners
| joking in their hacks-the same gro
tesQue orator in his white cravat utter
| ing absurdities with theatrical emotion,
! while complaisant friend holds an UNI
| brella over him.
And he is so saturated with sadness
| and disgust that he wishes he were IL
| ready dead, and that it were all over
| forever. Oh! how good it would be to
sleep!
! Then. in the murmuring of the soh-s
bling wind, that bend the expresses, he
| fancies that he hears-as in responsible
| his CHASTITY wish-those words which
recall to him the best moments ofso!s
| Efe-the words uttered only by hisSr
loved mother, and the dear Woma4eS
loved him most of all: / 4
"Malntenant, it s'agit de faire dodo!"