Springfield globe-republic. (Springfield, Ohio) 1884-1887, 1886-10-24
A TALE OF THE NOW.
An American Story by an American
Author Using American Ingredients

he glorlfied and IuiiImel west was iuS
deepening into rosy twilight, and the easter
hills Were in the act of peeling off their rudd
robes for the night, when Il well dresse,
Englshman Of American descent might hay
been seen vending his way in a northeastern
direction, regardless of the gathering night
He was tall, 1.-THE and pimply in the ex
treme, with large, wistful, dewy eye Th
othe. eye was also in the same condition. Hi
name was Edmund Clayborne Briggs. a do
neSticated Eng!iShman from Massachusetts
He was self made man; but, aside iron
that, he had never done anything rsprchen
sible
Edmund Clayhorne Briggs ancestors haC
toiled for livelihood, for they were an igno
rant people and did not know any better II,
was engaged in trying 10 overcome this in
herIted desire for lmdustrE-this strange NOR
hid yearning ior something TO do. His sue
cess thus far had been phenomenal Still ht
hoped To accomplish even greater things il
that direction
/ His dress was that of a young man born on
American soil, but who had tried 10 conceal
the disgusting and terrible fact from the eve
/ of the world. His pautaloons were worn flow,
/ ing in the legs ami glossy across the seat AL
/ that he had done thus far in life had been in
/ the sedentary line. He was prou of the fact
that his hands were not hardened by low,
/ coarse toll. Some had claimed that there
were bunions on his brain where self-eSteem
was located, but that was only an dl. rumor,
and this is no place for anything Of that
kind
How sorry he felt for those who wore
American shoes and New York hats. As he
stood leaning against fence, feeling a strange
yearning for something more definite, he
looked down at his owr English made shoes,
with their fat and pussy" appearance their
droop in the middle and their wide, over
fed, choked look He felt Of lis youngest
pimple and looked at the stars, which were
Just coming out one 10y one
We will leave him there a few moments
while we pass on to briefly describe young
thing named NaSelina Coiffurc, who stands
in the bay window patiently waiting for us to
do 50. She is not negIecting b " other work,
however. for she has no other prk She feels
that she was born to be loved, md though she
has been out of a job a good deal of the time,
that is Ter business To love and be loved is
her aim in life.
She loves Edmund with all the deep, rip
snorting torrent of her intense nature. She
is like him, for she diSlikes those who per
spirc Her father was a toier, and now, at
the age Of ~, he is an old man
She will take warning and shun the mad
maelstrOm in which he has wrecked his young
life. She shudiers as she thinks of it, She
recois. 1t costs her an effort, but she re-
coils She then stands on the other foot
awhile as she peers through the cleaning.
Let US look at her for a moment as she
peers through said cleaning. Her brow is
low, and it looks still lower. because she
wears her hair tossed wildly over it in little,
flaky. fluffy giblets of redness, while at the
back of her head it is caught up into an in
famed doughnut and held in place by tin
dagger. Her throat is long and flexible, and
the pOise of her head. which she wears at the
upper end of her swan like throat, is first
rate The air is one of dis lain. She has q
naughty way of taking out her gum and
seeking it on the ceiling that reminds one of a
duchess in good spirits
She now changes hack to the other foot,
ana looks yearnfully out through the gather
ing night. Her attitude is one which
PAINTER might long strive to portray on
canvas and fail to catch Her dress is cut so
rs TO conceal her shoulder blades as far as
possible. and she wears large wooden buttons
on the points of her elbows, so that she will
not scratch the marble top dressing case when
she leans on it in order to ponder few
hours over the interrogatory, why was
borne
The night has almost instantaneOusly grown
intensely dark. 1t is as dark as the interior
Of IA Ienightci Ethiopian. The wind Is sigh
ing through the trees, and seeking out the
belated gentleman whose underwear has been
worked up into a rag carpet
And will he never, never comeF muir
mlrs Naseinia as she sits on one of her feet
on the lounge and huns a low refrain, en-
titled Climbing up the Golden Stair
The bell now Invertebrates and Edmund
enters. They looked into each others eyes,
but all is vacancy there. 1t is what they ex-
pected
Anon Edmund seats himself. 1t is his nor
NAL condition. In his hand he holds cane
with a white Celluloid head TO it. How he
envics the cane. Thoughtfully he leans for
ward with the whole white top Of the stick
in his mouth. He is Just about to
speak when there is u sharp, resonant explo-
sion, a duh cry Of alarm from Vaselinia, the
smell of gun cotton. camphor, hair oil, dam
aged ideas and escaping gas