Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1885-07-22
Bill Nye's Vision.

Night before last, after l had regis
tered at the hotel and been assigned
1.-THE last room in the hotel"-I use the
language OF the hotel clerk-I went in
to the dining room to tea. 1t is not
my custom when travelling to smile on
one in whose heart q hope might spring
up to be dashed to the earth by my
departure. II have caused pain in
that way l did not intend to do so. l
can joke and carry on and have real
good time, but | do not wish to inspire
in any breast hope which may be blast
ed, all, alas! too soon.
1t was not long before I discovered a
beautiful blonde of the female sex ut
the farther end of tho room beneath
the chandelier Her skin seemed to
be of delicate sea-shcll color, and her
hair was corn-colored. Her clothes
also were entirely new. ! should Judge,
and made especially for her. On her
finger she wore diamond ring with
perfect ease. She knew just how to
work that finger in order to get the
most possible glitter out of her dia-
mond. Every little while would look
over there and revel in her beauty, and
1 thought that she was not entirely in
sensible to my charms.
All that evening she was in my mind.
l dreamed that night that l swooped
down upon her and carried her away
to tho remotest boundaries of the world
in special Car. The next morning I
awoke hungry, for didn't eat much
supper the night before. l went down
to breakfast, waiting and fooling away
my time, hoping that she would come
while l was in the breakfast room, and
| would fill myself up with the beauti-
full vision and cup of coffee.
Anon she came. She sailed into the
room with calm disdain and an air of
hauteur, and such things as that. The
head-waiter waved his hand like q self
acting duke in theatre and gave her
seat at my table. A thrill passed up
through me and l laid down the vulgar
sausage which was about to feed my
self when she dawned upon me.
l ventured then to look across the
table at her in the full glare of the new
born day. The first thing that l dis
covered was that she hadn't put her
yellow wig on straight. 1t was little
higher on one ear than the other, which
gave her the air of young man who
has over-monkeyed with the flowing
bowl. This showed to the casual spec
tator a glimpse of her own moth-eaten,
sage brush hair peeping out like the
faded tail on an old buffalo robe.
Then ! knew that we could never be
more to each other than friends. Her
nose was red also, and she had not
been properly calcimined. In the hur-
ry of dressing she had missed her nose
with the powder-rag and that organ
meaning, of course, the nose, not the
powder-rag-loomed up robust and
purple in the CHASTITY waste of cheek
bones and other osseous formations.
All. what pain it gave me to see
my beautiful vision fade thus before
my eyes! Then l thought how l had
smiled on her tho evening before. and
how, perhaps, new hope had sprung
up in her heart, and feared that when
she knew it was all over between us
the shock, at her time of life might
kill her.
l left my hot pancakes, with the ma
pie syrup all over them, and fled. Out
into the din, the hurry, and tho tire
less rush OF the mad, mad world, try
ing to stitlo tho memory OF that broken
heart. Should she see these lines /
hope she will not think bitterly of me.
l still admire her rs 4 well-preserved
ruin, but love in such case would be
a hollow mockery. -MiEpaukee Sun.