The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1884-07-24

yVo uifO up yOuE piON lOF u eOlBs
The earth huns a chorus of gould.
Thin come to your Dinnis o'Brion,
An. let his fidelity prove
That his heart Is as strong as a lion,
Ixcipt that it's burstin' wild love.
". w. Fink. IN Century ,Magdsins.
SHUT OUT.
It is 30 ward the end of an afternoon
in December, and Wilfred Rolleston is
walking alonga crowded London stree,
with his face turned westward. A few
moments age and he was scarcely con-
scious of where he was or where he
meant to gos he vas walking on me-
chemically in heavy stupor. through
which there stole q haunting sense of
degradation and despair that tortured
him duly. Aud suddenly, as if by
magic, this has vanished; he seems to
himself to have walked from a miserable
day dream to the buoyant consciousness
of youth and hope. Temperaments
which are subject to fits of heavy and
causeless depression have their COM
p~ensations sometimesin the very vio-
lence of the reaction which follows;
the infesting cares, as in Longfellow's
poem, fold their tents, like the Arabs,
and as silently steal away and with
their retreat comes an exquisite exhila-
ration which more equable dispositions
can never experience.
Is this so with Rolleston nowp He
only knows that the cloud has lifted
from his brain, and that in the clear
sunshine which bursts upon him he can
look his sorrows in the face, and that
there is nothing in them so terrible
after all.
1t is true that be is not happy at the
big city day school which he has lust
left. How should he be? He is dull
and grabbed and uncouth, and knows
too well that he is a general object of
dislike; no n there cares to associate
with him, and he makes no attempt to
overcome their prejudices, being per-
fectly aware that they are different from
him. and hating them for it, but hating
himself, perhaps, the most.
And though all his evenings are spent
at home, there is little rest even for
him there; for the work for the next
day must be prepared, and he sits over
1t till late, sometimes with desperate
efforts to master the difficulties, but
more often staring at the pages before
him with eyes that are almost willfully
vacant.
All this had been and is enough in
itself to account for the gloomy state
into which he has sunk. But-and how
could he have forgotten it?-it is over
for the present.
Tonight he will not have to sit up
struggling with the tasks which will
only cover him with fresh disgrace on
thd morrow; for a whole month he need
not think of them, nor of the, classes in
which tho hand of every one is against
him. For the holidays have begun; to-
day has been the last of the term. Is
there no reason for JOY and thankfulness
IN that? What a fool he has been to let
those black thoughts gain such a hold
over him!
Slowly, more as if it had happened a
long time ago instead of quite recently,
the incidents of the morning come back
to him, vivid and clear once more
morning chapel and the doctor sermon,
and afterward the pretense of work and
relaxed discipline in the class-rooms,
when the results of the examinations
had been read out, with the names of
the boys who had gained prizes, and
their remove to the form above. He
had come out last, of course, but no one
expected anything else from him; q
laugh had gone round the desks when
his humble total closed the list, and he
had joined in it to show them he didn't
care. And then the class had been dis
missed, and there had been friendly
good-byes, arrangements for walking
home in company or for meeting during
the holidays-for all but him; he had
gone out alone-and the dull darkness
had come over him from which he has
only just recovered.
But, for the present at all events, he
has got rid Of it completely; he is
going home, where at least he is not
despised, where he will find a sanctu-
airy from gibes and jostlings and i'm
positions; and the longer he thinks of
this the higher his spirits rise, and he
stops briskly, with n kind of exaltation,
until the people he passes in the streets
turn and look at him, struck by his ex-
preston. '.They can see how jolly I'm
feeling" he thinks, with a smile.
The dusk is falling, and the shops he
passes are brilliant with lights and
decorations, but he does not stop to
DOL at any of them; his mind is busy
with settling how he shall employ him
self on this the first evening of his lib
erty-the first for SO long on which he
could feel his own master.
At first he decides to read. Is there
not some book he had begun and meant
to finish, so many days ago now that
he has even forgotten what it was all
about, and only remembers that it was
exciting?
And yet, he thinks, he won't read to-
night-not on the very first night of
the holidays. Quite lately-yesterday
or the day before-his mother had
spoken to him, gently but very seri-
ously, about what she called the morose
and undisciplined temper which would
bring misery upon him if he did not
set himself earnestly to overcome it.
And there were times, he knew,
when it seemsd as if 3 demon possessed
him and drove him to wound even those
who loved him and whom he loved
times when their affection only aroused
in him some hideous spirit of sullen
contradiction.
He feels softened now, somehow, and
has a new longing for the love he has
SO often harshly repulsed. He will over
come this sulkiness of his; he will begin
this very evening; as soon as he gets
home he will tell his mother that he is
sorry, that he does love her really, only
that when these fits come on him he
hardly knows what he says or does.
And she will forgive him, only 200
gladly, and his mind will be quite at