McCook weekly tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 188?-1886, 1884-03-27
A FINE MATCH.

: My story begins where all others
end. | have been married since yester-
day. Love is necessary in a story, and
perhaps with many immoral writer's
you may think that marriage is the
grave of love. This is possible with
Others, but altogether false with me.
In order to have grave love must
first have lived, and for me, alas! it is
yet to be born.
1t is true, have sworn to my wife
by the light of the moon and the stars
q believe that is the regular thing to
do) that love her, but it was an awful
lie. l have told her, too, she was
beautiful, but that was a still more
awful lie. You ought just to see her.
Two sins to my account, therefore,
Yet l hope they will be forgiven me,
Tor did not commit them of my own
free will.
was born an orphan, 1 believe. 1
never knew anything about my father
and mother. They must have existed,
there can be no doubt of it, but that is
all l can impart concerning them.
An uncle adopted me, gave me q
frock, cent every Sunday, and every
other day blows to inculcate virtue, this
being continued until / was II years
old and had partaken of my first COM
munion. Then my uncle said, ssNow
you are no longer a child,' and fort
night after my becoming man l found
myself in boarding-school, where for
three years was a victim to the larger
scholars, and for another three years
the tyrant of the smaller ones, until
finally the high school opened its doors
to me.
"Study hard now, so that you will
soon get through, Willem, for you must
always bear in mind that you have not
the slightest claim to all I am giving
you, but have to thank my kindness
alone for it ALL
So my uncle wrote me every month.
Whenever l passed good examina-
ton iewas: s'That is all right, but it
cost me enough" And on every pos
sible occasion and to everybody my
good uncle said, 'This is my nephew
have brought him up, and let him
study at my expense; every year he
costs me two thousand francs, of which
1 shall never see a single Genuine
again."
My uncle treated me very well in.
deed, and was certainly grateful fo1
it; he upraided me so often, however,
for what he had done for me that al
last could not endure him in spite Of
all my gratitude.
However, finished my studies, and
the head of the examining board an.
uOuncad William Won don Rorrba a, q
doctor of medicine. 1 lived with my
uncle, who in fit of magnanimity al
lowed me to put my single on his
door, and now indeed nothing was
wanting to my happiness but patients.
waited patiently ior one, two three
months, took rapid walks through the
town to make believe that I had beer
sent for, strained every nerve to sue.
coed. Twas young, and I waited pa
tiently four or five months; but pa.
thence is not the virtue of all of III
mortals
One afternoon sat quietly in my
consultation room and thought abou
love and patients-for what else ought
man to think about when he is TWEEN
ty-three years old and doctor of med
icineP Suddenly my uncle's gruf
voice called out:
''Come, dress up, Willem, put OF
your best coat and gloves, and Willen
obeyed.
Together we went out of the house
passed through two or three streets
and stopped at last before an old
fashioned mansion with a double stair
case leading to the door, where we ran,
the bell.
s'Now,. just be very polite to tn
young lady," was my uncle's command
while a servant as old-fashioned as tn
house, introduced us into room whic
was poorly lighted and smelled YER
musty.
There sat behind table Madam
Boedaart, red-ribboned cap on he
head and cat on her lap. 1 though
/ had to be polite without delay, an
was just about beginning when Mis-
Boedaart appeared with cap who's
ribbons were redder even than tn
mothers. She wore a dress whicl
perhaps might have been becomin,
to a pretty woman, but it looke'
awful on her. put her age at twenty
seven, and as she happened to be onl
twenty-six and half, my uncle re
marked that always looked on tn
worst side.
Twas as polite as knew how to be
and Miss Anna Boedaart seemed salts
fed. Madame Boedaart styled me in
variably ssdt ctor," and heard her sa
10 my uncle that she was quite please
with me.
"What ugly women!" [ thought t
myself when we were on the stree
again. But I have the bad habit 9
often thinking aloud, and this time
did so again.
"Ugly womenp" angrily repeated m
uncle. ssDo you know, though, tbs
the young lady expects to have tw
hundred thousand francs, and do 20
call that ugly"