Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1885-06-05
ONE OLD MAID.

this dismal morning in Wisconsin.
And to think that this train could
not make connection with the east
ward bound train 1t is hard
enough to stop at such a miserable
little junction at any time, but to
spend three hours here this dark
morning must prove the very
refinement of torture. There are a
dozen passengers who must wait
and who prepare to make the bast
of their stay here. One couple,
evidently just married, find the
clouds of n very rosy color, and
they walk out of the smoky old
depot to make a tour OF the little
town, talking eagerly the while.
Two young fellows wander uneas'ly
about, reading all the old, tattered
posters, glowing inducements to
60 West and ancient time tables,
which invariably decorate the STAIN
ed walls Of a country depot. These
Young fellows finally utter excla-
nations of impatience at the dreary
monotony, and 60 across the street
to the hotel, hoping to find some
thing there more congenial to them.
Two ladies at once take their de-
parture for the hotel, and other
people who stroll out about the de-
pot, and there are left two persons,
man and woman, who, after n
little time, settle themselves to
reading to pass away the weary
moments. He reads his paper and
she her book, and occasionally,
woman.like, she casts look at her
silent companion, wondering what
loved ones are waiting his arrival,
and whether he is impatient to
greet them, or if he feels mans
stOicism in regard to it; wonder
ing, too, how it is that each woman
thinks the masculine lives connect
ed with hers so full Of manly graces
and beauty, and who could find
manly beauty in those rugged fea-
lures? Then she turned her gentle
eyes towards the dirty window and
looked out at the dreary landscape,
looked with eyes which saw not
outward objects, but were intro
spective solely. An old maid, com
monty supposed to be the type of
discomfort and unrest, but here,
evidently, the type failed, for this
face expressed the utmost Of con
tent. Life had been filled with
much of sorrow for her, all her
bright plans had failed of fruition;
one after another she had bidden
goodbye to them and had turned
bravely again to face the coming of
a new future, a future to be peOpled
again by her bright fancies-the
old fancies all dead and gone from
her except as they fingered in
memory.
An old maid she is, as far as
years go, but no home is happier
than her little ideal home. She
had filled its rooms with bright
little faces eagerly calling to moth
er, and the dream father is strong,
earnest, helpful and loving. Her
dream home is happier far than
many a fine lady's real home, al.
though she has not pictured any
grandeur about it. Oh, no, she
dreams that the carpets are faded
from much sunlight, and worn
from the tread Of many little feet,
that there is much planning to
make both ends meet but she
has imagined unselfshness in this
ideal home, and loving unselflsh'
ness can make all trials in regard
to ways and means seem very
slight indeed. Her companion in
this depot is an elderly person, a
stout, large man, with keen eyes
and a mouth at complete odds with
the eyes, not belonging to them ap-
parently. Often eyes do not har-
monize in coloring with the rest of
the face, but generally expressions
are strongly akin. This man had
a sensitive mouth, one with a
mournful droop to it. Those who
looked at him caught themselves
wondering which would conquer -
keen, hard eyes, or sensitive mouth.
lie read for some time, then gave
a quick look at the thoughtful face
near him, and said abruptly, Not
very pleasant arrangement, this
A quick flush passed over the
gentle face before him, a flush
which his keen eye noted instantly
and understood, a flush which told
of the girlishness yet left to this
lonely woman.
Not that it matters much to me
where | am he continued. Life
can't give me anything harder than
I've had
mat Is SAD thing TO say she
said, in her timid way.
"A true thing, though he re
sponded, and the corners of his
sensitive mouth dropped a little
more. Il feel as ii | had nothing
left to live for. My wife died q
year ago, and - here the voice
broke. Distress ever calls some
souls out Of their reserve, and her,
was such a one, and said quickly
'Ab, but you have all those van
ished days and months aud year.
to remember, ali the lOveliness 0