Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1885-07-19

told In that part of the Bible which sci
ence permits us TO believe that we must
| loVe our neigh bors as ourselves, and l
suppose We all do to certain extent.
Inat Is, don't think much about it my
sell, but l have no objections to any
one who does not interfere with my
work."
do interfere with your work ?"
''Not in the least"
Then you have no objection to mep
mo, can't cay that have any objec-
tion TO you"
DO YOU think you ever Will have~
"NO, think not"
"Do you think that YOU could always be
happy in my presenceg ,"
why, how strangely you talkl'
"HYpatia, 1t is useless for me to conceal
wife?"
what tori"
because love you madly, desperately
| cannot live without YOU"
lis that what you call poetry?'
mo, no; it is the solemn truth"
"Oh, no; itisnot. You can live very well
withoutme. OF course am good cook
but you can find Others"
"Oh, why viii you not understand
meY'
Il cannot, Mr.. Cottle. l can compre-
bend why you should wish to marry me,
hut you do not seem TO comprehend 1t
| yourself. ! am the best cook in Neosis,
and all the young men are striving to get
me for lite; but you do not seem to care
anything about that, and insist on talking
nonsense about my face. cannot discover
any reason why | should want you. Ii
| you were "A great scientist YOU might have
| some claim, but all you can do is to write
that Jinglng nonsense which you call
| poetry We don't marry men in Noesis
for such causes as that"
Then you refusey7
"Of course"
Cottle walked in silence by her side un-
til they bad reached her dwelling. He
could not comprehend her utter want OF
| sentiment, nor could she tCd any solution
| for his poetry. AT the door he turned TO
| ner once more and said:
Miss Green, is there no hope for me ~
II am afraid not" she answered, ''as
| long as you cling to poetry"
| Then farewell"
| lie turned upon mis- heel and left her.
! The light had gone out of his life, aud ne
| bitterly lamented the day be had first seen
| the town of NOesls. Stunned bv the blow
which had just fallen upon him, he wan
dered, not knowing whittier he went, far
! beyond the limits OF the town. out into
the soft green fields he went like one be-
reft OF sense. The sweet scent Of the clio
| yer blossoms, and the twittertng of the
! birds, and the soft muTmur OF the wind
! among the boughs OF the trees smote upon
! his senses, not with the Joyous melody Of
old, but with a new ring of PAIN. The
| voices OF nature failed to speak TO hun a.
! they had done in days gone by. Yet the
| soothing influence Of solitude and beauty
| could not altogether be lost upon him.
| 'What," he medltated, would the
world be without sentiment aud poetry?
| Could man live without them?'
Then be smiled as he thought of the van
! lty of his inquiry. Men lived without them
! in NOesis, and women too. And they ap-
| peared to be healthy and happy. Could
! be bring himself to such a state of mind
Could he dissect the tender fancles of
poetry with the cruel scalpel of iacty
| COuld he analyze an idea, as Hypatia had
done when he quoted to her, 'ROll on,
thou deep and dark blue ocean, rollP'
"What is the use" she asked, ''Of telling
the ocean to roll on? OF course it will
roll on. 1t always has rolled on, and will
continue to do 50 until It's waters are
| eyapOraied by the heat Of the sun. Ten
| thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain
What nonsense! OF course they sweep
over it in vain. They couldn't possibly
do the ocean aRy harm, could they? Now
! if your poet had stated the fact that each
ship immersed in the dark blue ocean
which every scientist knows is green-lOst
a portion Of its weight equal TO the weight
OF liquid displaced, ne would have said
something sensible"
AS these thoughts were coursing
through COttle's heated and bewildered
| brain, in the midst of the beautiful fields,
he came upon the only thing reeded to
drive him to utter Instruction. class OF
/ girls from the NOesis high school engaged
ia the practical study OF botany,
"MOnOctyledOn mOnoctyledonOusP
That is what the girls were chanting in
| a nasal chorus.
Enough enoughl' shrieked Cottle, as
! he rushed away.
His brain was in a mad whirl, and the
! blood was cOursing through his veins like
a torrent of fire. Across the country he
rushed like amauiRc, never pausIng till he
| reached the door of his lodging house. He
| sprang up the stairs three steps at time
and dashed into his room. In the solitary
moment OF consciousness that remained
there flOated through his mind the dim
Remembrance of a stanza written by a
poet whom he loved and initiated:
I'VE had grown as gods, rs the gods above
| Filled from the heart to the lips with love,
Held fast in his hands, clothed warm with his
wings,
o love. my love, had you loved but me!'
and then the four walls of his room faded
away, and in another moment Alfred
Swinburne Cottle had fallen prone uTon
the floor. His good land,ady, running up
at the sound of the fall, found him there,
laughing wildly. Physicians were sum
moned in hot haste, and shook their heads
ominOusly, as they muttered, "brain
fever"