Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1884-11-28
THE WIFE OF HERBERT AYMES
PENNOYER.

lOHtI ". udJ IN LlC WIZ vi
Herbert Aymes PennOyerl'
There was that in the tone of the
fair speaker which betrayed good
deal OF contempt mingled with an en-
joyable consciousness Of having made
an astounding announcement.
Helen was silent moment. "4Gur
lion OF last evening" But did not
notice the wife.
"You are net at all singular in that
respect. Nobody ever does notice her
But she was not there"
Had she been, should have seen
her. Helen responded, quietly.
you are so queer, Aunt Helen y
smiled Marion indulgently. She
could afford to bo indulgent toward
the caprices Of her lovely young aunt
who was not only an heiress but was
Marions senior by only four years.
Such pity Fancy man of his
talents and possibilities linked to that
lump of animate clay! 1t gives one
faith in the divorce laws Of the coun-
try"
Helen did not reply at once and
they passed on.
Under the ash tree that waved lis
fernlike leaves and scarlet berries
above her head the wife of Herbert
Aymes Pennoyer couched lower on
the dingy green bench. Marion
Chlsholm's clear, contemptuous,
penetrating voice cut the hazy air like
knife thrust, and sank deep into
Mary PcnnCyer's sensitive heart. She
knew well enough that she was faded,
and plain, unInteresting in every
way, but q, the bitterness of hearing
the truth in that girls scorAful incis
i've tonesl
She sat quite still among the tremul
GUS greenery of her hay nook,
through which the rays of an autumn
sun filtered pleasantly. There may
have been many idlers riding, drlv
ing, saunteling in the little park;
there may have been none. Back
through the vistas of dImly remem
bered years, step by step. she CROPPED
her way.
Was it eight years ago or ten-but
no matter when Herbert had been
cniy the editor of q little country
weekly with patent inside" and an
external area largely devoted to APP
pcals, thlnly velied with Sportlveness,
To delinquent subscribers2 They had
often been glad to take load OF wood.
not very well seasoned either, ION
account" or bestow 81 worth of ad
vcruslng upon Farmer Perkins for
the consideration of a mammoth
pumpkin or a half bushel of Early
Rose potatoes. But Herbert had al
ways chafed under the calling restric,
nf II cd To
bend the power of his giant intellect
to description of the new roof of
Widow Johnsons woodshed, or waste
the brllliauce OF his mental imagery
IN deIineaIing the leading features of
BNlns * Sons new delivery wagon.
So he took 10 writing lies, "as bluff
old Father Pennoyer called them;
and one day, finding himself, if not
famous, at least in some demand as a
proit sslonal prevaricator flung the
editorial shears and paste pot INTO the
furth2St corner and cut loose forever
from the Connecticut Settlement AID
vCcate, which had never been con
splcuous i'll advocating anything un-
less 1t was the payment OF past-due
subScrptiorS. Then he moved to
A, where hls talents might have
room to expand; or, perhaps, it would
be more correct to say, where he could
find "A better market for the result of
their expansion; but we Will not be
particular about little thing like that
Mrs. Ptnnoyer was not.
Well, his talents had expanded
That lovely lady in pale, shimmering
silk and lace had called him Lion"
Mrs. Herbert AmeS Penuoyer did not
exactly understand the application,
but she knew her husband was court
ed and BATTERED wherever he went,
and that his dress coat lad become
almost fixture upon his back of late
She knew that the ChiSholms, mother
and daughter, were of the best society
and that Herbert was a welcome and
frequent guest at their artistic home
Mrs. Herbert AmeS Penuoyer was
sometimes invited and sometimes not,
the former being invariably an occas-
lonal formal dinner party, which she
soon discovered was attended by a
nightmare both physical and mental
as an nseparable adjunct Little re
CeptlonS, Co2y teas and theatre parties
constituted the sometimes not, show
ing plainly chat Mrs. Herbert Agnes
Pennoyer was credited with the pos
session of stomach if she was not
with mind.
At this point in her meditations she
closed her eyes and wandered still
further back-down the winding road
that was but bride path across the
otherwise trackleSs pralrieS; back, far
back To the little low ceiled, unpaint-
L., =. - 4 Il.
ry trees where miles and miles of Hill
noise prairie uurolled itself to the eve,
a waving, undulating ocean of blue.
green grass all summer long, chang.
ing at last 10 limitlesS dun browaplaiu,
traversed by roaring. galloping,
writing columns Of flame in the
smoky autumn night.
There, in that dingy little house,
she was born in those early days when
Farmer Benton shouldered his gun in
the silent-dawn and went out on the
north forty for deer. Skulking
prairie wolves came slipping through
the grass up to the well when the
sloughs dried up in summer, and she
remembered waking in the starry,
winter nights TO listen to their weird,
mournful bowls, with childish ter
ror and sort of unwilling iascina-
ton. Then, httle by little, came
change. 1t was one day in early aUt.
umn-she remembered so welli-that
young man came riding down the
bridlepath to the cherry trees and the
dngy cottage crouching beneath
them. Behind him. train of white
covered wagons-''prairies schooner"
the settlers called ,hem-lumbered
heavily along the trail. They drew
up in circle on the prairie adjoining
her fathers section; and in few days
a ringing of hammers and the CHEEKY
Shouts of the home builders floating
over in softened way, to the little
cottage where Mary Liddy Benton sat
sewing on the farmers gingham
shirts.