The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1884-02-08
im-in a clumsy hand-such adorable
stsers, full of sentiment and bad spell.

for 2 long time he had not been able tic
do IT. Why2 Because liberty is a rare
thing, and because that beastly thing,
money, is always difficult to obtain,
But at last they were able to buy them.
selves the luxury of leisure and free air,
They had eaten artichokes a la poiyrade
under the bower covered with n%nsturti.
UNI tlawers; they had drank r~eainglei
which rasped their threats as it went
down; they had slept in country sheets,
peasants sheets, very white and very
coarse; they had run at hazard among
the Tickets, where she had gathered
and eaten ~blackberries and wild straw.
berries, and where, like one of Theocri,
tns' shepherds, Or a dry goods clerk or
a Sunday, stroll, he had clt his initials
and those OF Maria upon the white bark
OF a birch tree with his p%enknite.
But the sweetest moments of all these
sweet hours-the moment of which the
memory will recall II tender smile to his
aged lips forty or fifty years later, when
he shall be dragging his invalid's cane
over the sand of Petite Provence-was
about IL o'clock on the eve of their de:
parture.
AS 1t was raining in torrents they had
been sitting up late before the great fire.
place in the kitchen-he, drying his
heavy hunting boots, she, arranging the
bunch of wild flowers which she wanted
to bring back to Paris. Then they had
gone up stairs to their room, where they
chatted for awhile, and laughed to hear
the ~inn-keeper dragging his lame leg
through the hall prior to closing the
shutt-rs At last all was hushed; the
rain had ceased; and they suddenly felt
themselves wrapped about with the
great silence and the deep solitude of 6
country night.
Without a word she took the solitary
candle and placed it on the mantle
piece. before the dingy and tly-specked
mirror. and commenced her night toll.
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
bead TO unfastsn 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
moment!
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 q broken down man, as they say.
This morning when he awoke, with a
pad 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? 1t was a
literary ''comrade," a confrere-how
ridiculous the world!-fut an unscrup-
ulous fellow, a venal scribbler. Never
theless, he had never done him my
harm. Quite the contrary. Without
any personal interest, just for pure good
will, that journalist had always showed
him a sympathy that made him blush to
think of.-had praised him with fact,
and had even warmly defended 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, whether
in the street or ut the theatre. Mol 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 ca. lier
than usual, breakfasted in haste,-the
eggs were not tresh-pheW!-) took a
cab which smelt of wet dog, and got late
to church, when the funeral was nearly
over.
"Portez-arnes! Presentz-armes!n
And the roll OF muffled drums fell up
on his ear.
What! Soldiers? All, yes! it is true!
there is q Cross of Honor on the catafal-
uue. The deceased had obtained that
cross in the slime ola political intrigue,
with which some female names we're
scandalously mixed up. And the poet,
as he bowed down at the Elevation, felt
ashamed of the crimson ribbon that hung
at his own breast. =.
But since he came he might as we'll
remain to the end. The absolution is
given. He follows the rest in line,
sprinkles a little holy water, %re.enters
his cab, and the funeral procession
moves through the ~boulevards to the
cemetery, There the eternal and lugu-
hrious comedy of death is repeated; the
mourners who have been laughing all
the way about last nights scandal, now
assume a solemn or fearful expression 9:
~countenance; the ridiculous orator lies
like a 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 q dishonor to
him. He slips aside before the end,
and alter concealing a moment behind g
magnificent monument erected to the
memory of a drygoods merchant, hur-
rles away by an unfrequented path.
1t has ceased to rain; but the sooty
sky, the dead leaves in the mud, the
black trees dripping upon the tombs, the
unhealthy, epidemical winds sighirg as
it passes-all are CHASTITY!
Suddenly an 1nexpressible 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 thu 1t
worthless man-there will be the same
rafting of ri1e-hutts upon the pave
ment, the same Indifferent mourners
joking in their hacks-the same gro
tesque orator in his white cravat utter
ing a~bsurdities with theatrical emotion,
while a complaisant friend holds an UNI
brella over him..
And he is SO saturated with sadness
and disgust that he wishes he were al
ready dead, and that it were all over
forever. Oh! how good it would be to
sleep!
Then, in the murmuring of the sob
bing wind, that bend the expresses, he
fancies that he hears-as in response to
his, CHASTITY wish-those words which
recall to him the best moments of. his
life-the words uttered only by his be-
loved mother, and the dear oman who
loved him most of all:
"Mamtenant, it s'agit de taire dodo!'
There is great need for the dissemin.
alton of information among farmers
particularly facts about large cops and
the methods by which they are pro
duced, and the feeding process by which
animals can be most rapidly matured