Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1886-04-18
ANOTHER NEW NOVEL
A Realistic Piece Of Fiction Said To \
written After the Present Best
Style.

Style.
Akrdnsato Traveller.
Mr.. C. D. Buckley sat in his ibn,
ae vas q proud and dieni6ed mn
Yes, for his ancestors had CO,
,ver IN the CauliHower. Mr.. Bickle, J
a Q rich dressing gown. Was be ham,
No. The spring time had come, and NJ
arrived birds fitted among the hon.
the tender shoot of the onion l.
the clod, and the duck, ia. and |,
most breathless, chased the wounded ho,
ay. 1t wal a time for meditation, 70, !
Mr.. Buckley knew thi,
felt it. Those who observed his Ats
could not guess at the ca
which had Drought about so great q cha,
in him. he was once lively. even N
but now be was sad. The plough Of n,
less though. was turning burrows in /
brow. What caused this thought d
what caused it! There was q cause, !,
q deep cause, but Buckley KEEP. it hiGS'
himself. Why did he not tell !,
wifef She and be were intimate, and /.
withstandiIg the fact that they were q,
ried, they often met each other and, ,
untrequently they engaged in converssa,
Why, then did not, Buckley tell his vi.
Some men would have done 90, b., |,
ticence vas one Of Bickley's peculsii,,
See, the burrows on his broad, teu,.,
brow grow deeper. Can it be tina, =
mess troubles have come upon him. !
for his financial affairs are in excel
condition. He had not speculs,Nl
stock, neither had he accepted P]
Electric stock. He looked inwsrdly M
without, looked through q wicket into
wellstored warehouse Of his own c~on,ciss
but what did be see? Yes what did
see2 He saw no stain on bis cbarxl
he had wronged no one. BE hsd Dc,
run q newspaper-had never write,
article embodying the mule, wasp, no.a
in.law, lavender trousers and custsrd I
Dr.. Mary Walker, Susan B. Au,bO1
Hayes chicken yard. the goat, the |
cream girl, the doctor, the barber, the \
erty of editors, the tramp o the yol
mar who parts his hair in the mid
Why, then did the mould.bosrd Of taal
Eing meditation bank up sweet pI
ridges upon his browP Did be know
YES, he knew. Why did he not tell bis |.
est daughterf Was it because she VA
old to hear2 No. IVES it becsu. |
had no ears2 Oh, no, for she had d
ears which would attract the sttenio,|
the largest crowd.
Mrs. Buckley entered the library. d
vim she said-she and her husband 4
pretty we'll acquainted With each other
she felt she had a right 20 address biz
his christian nsme--"Cl silvia what 10
matter with you2'
He looked up with q START. DO yosI
that there is anything the ms,Ier i
meT, he replied.
YES, We have noticed it We are ID
friends, 10 tell me wha, 1t is"
He drew up hia Iish; leg and sbc'
away an ottoman with his .o5t. Was III
right Leg Let us De certain e this. |
ratsbane OF modern fiction is II It's reck.
ness of expression Even Dicker, .
rhackery are not free from such ia,
tation. All, the e school OF Amen,
writer's is lar superior 10 the old sceooI
English mouIder OF fiction. Our MI .r,
finer than that OF Charles Reade. VIII
went 90 far as TO write interesting bod
What nonsense; what n departure b,
realism. People should no, bs en,ert.is
They should be taught the trnrb v,
is truth in felton, L1veliness! Alb
that's where you're cfT Modern Ameri
fiction is to earnest for loyeliuess; it ks
mission, the mission Of noninteres
dulness, il you will have it so. lie I
would convey n meaning in n psrsgrap
not a genius, but who spreads m ideS d
acres of print lie a master. The writer
twenty years ago said 10 much in onskd
Just look at tho lack OF skill d,splsya
George Elicit. There ia in hadm Y
enough material for bali u dozen bd
Were Eliot living nov che nigh, learn
importan, lesson from our Boston noTtI
There is poor old Wllkis Collins lie !
been amusing people for yeas. His ID
ness Of aim and bis fsl.e dictior sciul
compel people to read him, How 40
Having explained our posi- ;as, hhying |
molished romauces, we mid row return
the great question At issne.
Yes, Calvin, tell M VIA, uH1
you"
He arose, chewed q Glove which be y
from his ives cut pocket o do~n,gd
blew his Q and replied
81 Am deeply affected"
Yes, dear-let me call you dear fa
parents wero acquainted with csch-J
dear, but tell me what the trouble 10. 4
can conidc in me. will never tell q;
one"
He gazed, with n Wild stare, q. vso'i
and replied II cannot tell you. 4
lieve you are q frind OF mine aud tbs 4
would aid If you could; but my troaSs
beyond your help or advice"
is it 90 bad bs ,batY"
Yes, even worse.
Then l canno! help YOU"
mo"
what shall ! de-"
Cook me q couple Of eggs, s5.t Oosl
Inc te--rs started from her eyes. u
mao Csed together during many yesr 4
this Was the fire, time that he bad cohs1
in her-the Grs. time that he had inp'1
to her the secre. that be wanted bio q,
soft boiled. She could not conceal 4
emotion.
"Don't weep, EImirc," said be.
oh. Calvin. I cannot help it j
Yes, but remember that va live 10 4
ton and that we may become cbarac.n|
the great American novel"
You are right" she said, Is che a
her eyes. Il know thu. ] must no, "
to much emotion. Won't you pleas. 4
me what siIs your
Il cannot"
will anyone ever kDowf
Il think not" Il
She went into the kitchen. Mr. BED
leaned his head against The val y
sighed. We would tell Hbst allied y
but that would not be realism. The az
aim Of the reali.t is to leave the rssds
doubt.