Springfield globe-republic. (Springfield, Ohio) 1884-1887, 1885-02-08

heard Of her death. He turned back soul |
smitten, and wandered over the earth. She
pursued him everywhere, day and night
When, hungry, and sick, and triendless,
and aimless, he turned aside into this old
lumber,sard last night, she followed him
here. There was nobody else with him.
no, it was not suicide.
Or possibly the woman that was last
with him was his sister. Because We have
seen that there must have been some
woman in it when man like this resolved
to die. This was man whom a sister
should have loved. But the beautiful sis
ter whom be worshiped, at that age when
all women are angels, became fallen
angel. When she fell, and he ev not
Eft her up or win her back, no woman ever
found any place in his heart again. And
q mans life without woman's love in it,
not being worth saving, it is scarcely sui
eide to throw away.
But this may be the very falsest of all
interpretations of the drama of mans
life whose tragic closing scene here on
this squalid stage had but a single actor
and no other audience than the stars
Who knows but the old man may have
been a lover2 Young, and handsome,
and talented, he was proud and poor.
The woman who thought she loved t;''
and whom he adored was fashionable al
therefore purchasable. Her price was an
establishment, with husband thrown in.
The ideal, impractical young man had
| nothing but his heart to stake on the
game of woman's love, and he lost. And
when he lost his heart he lost his lite. He
only finished dying last night. Suicide
had little to do that the woman had not
| done
But no; the woman resisted her rich
family and fashionable friends and became
his wife She admired him and expected
great things of him He would win fame
and gain fortune, and so justify her. He
did neither She grew Indifferent to him,
and he therefore grew jealous Of her.
They quarreled. Her family sided with
her of course, and she, who should have
been on her husbands side against the
world, sided with them. He appealed to
witely loyalty; he endeavored to stir the
embers of old affection; but she met him
with cold tolerance and with protestations
Of mere duty. His heart hrngered for her
love, and he could not live on those husks
of it that she threw to him. He turned to his
daughter for solace. But the daughter,
inhcriti"g q society-woman's heart, made
still more selfish by the false education OF
maternal indulgence, went with the ma
jority against him. Except mothers, ii
is a very rare woman that is not finally st
heart on the side of the ma jority.) She
criticised him with cold, dull silence and
unanswering eyes In this now-grownimage
of her mother he beheld his once-loving
little girl turned to stone. As BY the rev.
eIation OF fash of lightning, he saw his
home blasted The world went from under
his feet He could not live beneath the
same sky with flesh Of his flesh and his
own flesh and blood. They no longer
wished him there He felt it now and
knew it. His pride drove him out home
less wanderer. After years OF home-sick
endeavor in the worlds struggle for the
survival Of the fttest he found that he
| was not fit to survive-that no man is fit
to survive a grea, love and happy home.
He gave up the struggle here. 1t vas not
suicide; it was murder The wife and
daughter who did it (perhaps in some dis
tant land) will never hear of it and
never feel any remorse for it They killed
him so long ago, and so innocently, that
they have almost forgotten it. But, if
they ever come to have the opportunity and
the curiosity to look over the books Of the
Recording Angel to learn what became OF
husband and father, they will possibly
be little shocked at the final entry
against the name of this poor old man
who is recorded in the newspapers As hav-
| INN committed suicide