Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1885-01-14
HER BIRTHDAY GIFT.
BY EMILY READ.

"We should not count our years a
misfortune, and TO be candid, this, my
fortieth birthday, is the one day of my
life that [ have constantly looked for
ward to with satisfaction"
@Since yesterday" I asked doubt
fully.
"Since I was mere girl in my teens
that is the period considered the hap
piest in woman's life, is it not? I fan
cy 7 am constitutionally timid, for I
have always had an almost morbid hor-
ror of putting myself in position that
I could not break away from"
Marriage being one of them?" I
asked.
But she did not seem to hear me, and
continued
"And then there were constant, diff
cult, teasing questions to decide, and
even provokingly trivial things grew
important if I had to deal with them,
and was so easily frightened"
"And So" I began, for Frances had
eft off speaking and seemed to have for
gotten my existence.
"And So" she repeated, shaking her
herself out of her musings, 81 used to
say, when I am forty life will be worth
living. There will be nothing more to
happen that unusual; no more impor-
SAINT decisions TO be made. The rest of
ones days will be spent in pleasant
monotony. A few every day worries
that no mortal can escape; sickness per-
haps, but nothing unusual to fear, moth
ing in the future to torment me-"
And is that your idea of a satisfac-
cory life?"
could only ask questions, for had no
sympathy in Frances mood that night.
Anything is better than the eternal
questions, whether we have done right
or wrong, wisely or foolishly," she an
swered. irrelevantly. whether one
has sacrificed ones life or escaped a
misfortune. Now at forty. I am forty
80 night, you know"
Of course [ knew it was Frances
birthday, for it was to keep the feast,
chat sat, metaphorically, by her fire.
side.
Forty seems a load of years to carry,
and yet wonder what it is that makes
one old, for TO the tell the truth I do
not feel bit older than did ten years
ago, and not nearly as old as I did this
night twenty-five years. Then I
dropped my youth as we might an ILL
fitting garment. There was no possible
way of altering it, and so I rid myself of
it altogether. Certainly I can say to-
night that am better satisfied, more
contented and"
Happier" l suggested, but Frances
did not appropriate the word.
Comfortable, that better expresses
the idea, unless one could honestly say
satisfactory"
was very sure Frances could not.
There could be little satisfaction in a
woman's life devoid of near kinsfolk,
fretted by small economies, and without
a home, for a third story back room,
even in comfortable boarding house,
has but few qualities of home pervading
it.
"You had enough in your youth to
make life very satisfactory" I said, for
L remembered when Frances father had
been the leading lawyer at cur bar, and
had lived In more style than most of us.
II had more money" she said, with a
shrug of her shoulders, "I would like
some of it now, for it needs more to
keep ones self respectable at forty than
at eighteen. But I am not unhappy
from the want of money. Ones great
est misfortune is to have a history. It
has all the properties of ghost, and is
hard to lay. I, for instance ="
I looked up quickly at Frances, then
sas quickly turned my gaze to the fire,
was going to say, but in fact to the
stove. I felt the natural futter of
pleasure that one feels when ones
friends are confidential, and place you
on a different footing than you ever
were before. It is subtle fattery as
well as a mark of trust when some
friends confide to your keeping a per-
sonal history.
Whether it was the clock striking 10.
or something quite as trivial that gave
Frances thoughts turn, could not
guess, for instead of a history I had
long wished to hear, she fed me on cake
and wine IN honor of her birthday,
which she produced from a convenient
closet. After that we chatted quietly.
gossiping little, but harmlessly, and
working up yards of fluffy wool, with
our knitting needles.
It was the growth of my work that
reminded me of the lapse of time. for I
had given my one servant holiday.
and expected to walk home alone. But
I had no fears, DO matter what the time
was, for our village always grew more
quiet as the hours shortened their num- |