Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1885-12-26
15.

WAel ~ sS-otSo 1AA
crafty them / continued stil to dress
plainly and live poorly. l did so because !
could not bear to part with my treasure. |
sent half my soul in a certain bank vault and
left it there amid a package of soiled bank
bills-minei minel minei-of which / would
not touch one to make my life and surround
ings more pleasant. / traded on my veraae
tality and vivacity to make and keep friendA
I was willing to go among them with NY
mouth ever wide open to receive whatever
was dropped in it, and to attract their gifts
to my powers of pleasing.
/ found when I had sufficient means that |
had not the courage to spend them for what
1 had so earnestly wanted. The saving, cal
culating, cost-to-a-penny habit of years chung
to me.
Anything beyond my old plane of expense
frightened me. / was cursed with a mania
for cheapness. If I purchased a good article
of any sort, and paid for it a good price, |
would be panied for days at the thought of
parting with SO much money. So money
brought me no relief-only the more distress.
The reason was, l had raine myself to
miserliness and could not escape. My min
on that point was diseased. Had a million
been placed in my possession l should have
felt the same. In thought I should have been
no richer.
Besides, I'd had thai villainous maxim,
sSave when you're young that you may
spend when you're old" and too worn out to
get any pleasure out of your spending, drilled
and drummed into my ears from my earliest
childhood, until / had come to think every
cent expended over and above what was
necessary to keep life in ones body a semi
sin. if not a whole one.
Isabel and I planned a trip to England
together. 1 wished for a course Of study
at one of the great London hospitals. We
arranged the trip and set a time for our de-
parture.
But when I came to think the matter over
by myself it presented itself in a very differ
emit light. felt that for this girl to accom-
pany me would be for both of us misfortune;
tina l should be ever leading her into trouble
through my whims and humors, and that
her gentle and sensitive nature was not able
to endure the strain that would be put upon
it through my possible acts. | feared, also,
knowing then better my own erratic tenn
permanent and love of change, that the time
might come when I should tug at any chain,
however dear. So firmly did l believe that
such would be the case, and so averse was /
to the stating of this opinion to Isabel, that
off l vent to England alone and without CIV
ing her any explanation whatever. 1t cost
me a succession of crying spells, and l pre-
sumo it did her also.
1 studied in a great London hospital for a
year-rather a hard experience for a woman,
as a woman in such a situation is regarded
by the English medical student. Englishmen
make ample amends for having one woman
rule them-nominally-for they seem to rule
all the rest with a barbaric rod.
1 returned to America a qualified physi-
clan. I had gained my end and paid dearly
for 1t. The strain had been too much. l
was, at the start, splendidly equipped as to
physical vigor, but it had been exhausted in
the contest of years. My health broke down.
I was ready to commence life, but now lifes
corner stone and foundation to build upon
health-was wanting. I had expended all
my reserve strength in forcing myself to ac-
cept food, dress and surroundings which did
violence to my nature; in grieving my higher
self by STOPPING to obtain means In the way
1 have stated; in forcing the reckless side of
my nature to the front as a sort of protec-
tive armor, for as l began to realize that it
was a part of my nature, l made it do double
duty. l would work myself, force myself
into that mood when 1 really felt far more
like crying, when l so longed for a friend on
whose bosom / could throw myself and tell
her all about myself-tell her what l have
tried to tell here-if l had dared. But these
truths then I dared not own to myself.
The few friends l had in Boston-som of
whom had given me means-may remember
how suddenly I disappeared; how I left them
without a word or line of thanks or remem-
brance. That they should deem me migrate
full l do not wonder. But l left hem in the
way l did because / dared not reveal myself
to them. / could not as / have done here.
Nor could l thank them for their blindness in
any assumed mechanical fashion. felt that
1 had played a part for a sordid motive. |
loathed myself for 50 doing. So between the
two l went off in silence.
This is my Christmas messags-the one
Christmas token l can offer. What / want IL
to impress upon its readers is that sordidness
never results in good. Giving. not boarding,
brings bach a rich return. Think of this, as
Christmas dawns and the New Year opens
Be generous to others and to yourself.
And this: There is no ultimate gain in
starvation, starved and repressed appetite,
or starved and repressed taste, no matter
what be the end attained through such
starvation; it is only another robbing Of
Peter to pay Pau. only damming up injuri-
ously what's in human nature to roll over
the barrier at last and sweep all before it;
only a starving of body, mind and spirit,
whose result is to make one see through
starved yes and by a starved Judgment.
Close the old year and open the new with
the good cheer that comes from generous Civ
ing. Remember that all you can carry into
the life hereafter will be what you have
given, not what you have saved.
PRENTICE MULFoRD.
Boston, Dec. 16.