Connecticut western news., 1886-01-13
The Workingman's Wife.

The W0rklngman's Wife.
 Don't fall in love with her, Junius." "Your caution comes too late, old man. I'm in love with her already" Franklin Bartley looked solemnly at Dr. Junius Dale; shook his head as if to say, "'Tis true, 'tis pity; pity 'tis, 'tis true"
 2. "My dear fellow," said Bartley, the aged mentor of the pair, "you cannot more afford such wife than you can afford . steam yacht or an ivory mounted billiard table,"
 "There's no occasion to tell me that" mournfully replied Dr. Dale. "pm quite aware of it already. If l was rich I'd marry Miss Clarke to- always providing that she thought me worthy of acceptance; but as l am only struggling young doc s tor. I'll do my best to keep away from her Vaccinations in the future"
 "A sensible decision" observed Bartley.
 sBut she is so pretty" yearning'y remarked Dr. Dale.
 "Granted."
 "And she sings like nightingale"
 "She ought to, with all the cultiva- tion that her voice has received" 'And she has such a winning way with her"
 "What difference does that make to youY' said Bartley. Haven't you re- solved that hereafter she is to be noth. ing to youY'
 "Y-yes; but"
 Stick to your colors then, man" cried Bartley. "Clissy Clarke is noth- ing on earth but a society belle. What you want is a helpful. willing. work ing bee of a wife-one who can aid you with heart and hand to climb life's hill. You saw Miss Clarke at the Winfield masquerade last night, in white satin and pearls%'
 "And very beautiful she looked" cried the young physician. firing sud- denly up at the recollection of Miss ; Clarke's auburn hair, all twisted with ropes of seed-pearl, and violet blue eyes. sparkling with girlish animation. "Did she look like poor mans wifeT
 "Not bit of it."
 Then be warned" said Bartley. shortly. "Remember the old story of the moth scorching it's wings in the candle Hame."
 Dr. Dale was silent. He had prom ised himself the pleasure of call on Clarissa Clarke that very afternoon.
 There was something about the girl that attracted him with almost mag nstic force. The tender light of her eyes, the sweet intouation of her voice, the rosy fushes of color that over- spread her cheek when he talked to her. were all separate attractions; and yet he knew that he, like the hero of French romance, was "a poor young man."
 He recollected, now, that he had en said something to Clissy about going to the Clarke cottage that day.
 Ut won't do," he said to himself 'I had better keep away
 And sC, instead Of following the dearest inclination of his heart, he betook himself with Spartan resolve to the public library.
 "l'n read up that case on the inves tigation of cholera microbes" he thought. If man expects to make any mark in his profession, he must keep posted up in these modern dis coveries of science"
 So he disappeared into one of the alcoves of the library, with his medi cal quarto and his memorandum book and set to work in good earnest.
 But he had not fairly entered into the merits of the microbe question when the twitter of sweet girl voice! from the adjoining alcove struck upo1 his ear.
 "Oh, Clissy Clarker' said one. :" called for her, and she wouldn't come It was baking day. and there wa Clissy up to her elbows in flour ant spices"
 "Well, neverr' said the other, witt giggle
 ~Oh, she does all the housework. said the first speaker, scornfully, "lik any hired servant. Even the fin washing-for they only keep one littl nd-girl--md MT. Clarke won wear shirt UT less Clissy has irone its
 "How does she find time for he music and oil paintingp" asked th s secooA
 sob, che rises at dawn. She say thA best tins of tho working.day -..tt..s