The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1886-03-12
MY PHANTOM LOVE.
The Story of an Old Bachelor With
q Tooth-Ache.

ally Out VI sOTts tudu OHc lovely Qdy
in the mild September of 1888. wa.
about completing tour of many lands
seeking first health and then pleasure
l had found both and for weeks had
been indulging myself somewhat lavish
ly in the gayeties of the French capita
before starting home. Twas beginning
to acknowledge to myself positive
WEAKNESS and at last an all-pervading
sense of ennui and safety in general.
The good steamer Z Amerique, in which
had engaged passage, would be off in
a few days, however, and should soon
be "home again from foreign shores "
To add to my uncomfortable state OF
mind and body was the victim of a
regular old-fashioned nerve-rasping
tOoth-ache. A long-neglected mOlar
was asserting its rights-wrongs, rather
and reminding me with painful force
and persistence that the time was near
at hand when we must part company.
The very thought of it filled me with
horror. 1 may as well plead guilty to
an abject cowardice, of which any nerv-
Gus old woman might feel ashamed, at
the bare suggestion of having a tooth
extracted. I have held my own pretty
stiffly on the battlefield, but the very
thought of tooth-pulling operation has
the strange power of driving the blood
back on the double-quick to my heart,
and turning me stark stiff and cold with
dread from the crown of my head to
the tips of my toes.
1t was nearly noon when arose from
my bed the day in question, after a
night of sleepless torment. In vain l
applied myself vigorously to the flowing
bowl. Pain and fear refused to sleep
or drown. In desperation l sent for a
prescription of morphine, and, after
swallowing several of the powders with
a reckless disregard of instructions, l
got the upper hand of the snarling de-
mon and felt a comparative respite.
This, however, only made room for
sensations degree less narrowing than
the pains l had previously endured.
My blood seemed coursing in wild tor
rents through my veins and throbbing
like thousand pulses in my ears, and
heart. and brain. l looked from my
window and tried to interest myself in
life and hustle stirring before me; to
read; to think. No use. l could not
fix a thought upon my object of pur-
pose. had through all a vague idea
that 1 ought to feel ashamed of myself
that l had not nerve enough either to
'sendure this commonplace suffering or
remove its cause. Then l began to
wonder in an indefinite way what was
to be done with the few hours left be-
fore l could begin nv homeward jour-
ney. tried in vain to gather my
scattering senses into some sort of man.
ageable shape. l could no longer en-
-dure the oppression of my room or the
wild restlessness that had taken possess
sion of me. l grasped my hat and
hurried out into the streets, filled with
life, beauty, and traffic and flooded
with sunshine. 1t was to no purpose
that the gay glories of Paris unfolded
themselves on every hand to charm the
senses not wild and distorted with
misery and morphine.
Still striving to recall my mind into a
tranquil reasoning state, l continued to
ramblc on until 1 found myself at the
entrance of the Paris Salon. Invent in,
wandering about the vast galleries and
looking here and there at the works of
art with dazed or Indifferent interest
AT length found myself before life
size portrait which at once rivetcd my
attention with a strange and resistless
fascination. The memory of my pain
and misery seemed for the time to have
been dispelled by some magic influence,
and had the face and form before me
been endowed with life l should have
acknowledged myself victim of the
grand passion at first sight. l had seen
the beautiful women of every land I'M
der the sun; but never in all my travels
or in nv rosiest dreams had such
vision of enchanting loneliness and
grace greeted my sight. The portrait
was that of young girl whose face
was the perfection of rare and classic
beauty. The small and daintily poised
head was crowned with abundant and
naturally waving tresses ripping low
upon the forehead and about the Shout
<lers like a veil of light. For the
life of me could not give their color a
name-not golden any more than moon
light might be so described: not flaXen.
for there was tinge of sunshine that
gave them a peculiar light and color,
nameless and beautiful. The features,
small and regular, were of the purest
'Grecian type, but animated with happy
expression giving them an indiscribable
charm. The draperies that hung in
graceful neglige about the slight but
perfectly symmetrical form were repre-
scented in some soft, clinging material.
all white from head to foot, relieved
only by the brightness of silver fringe
bordering the long, flowing be and
mantle flung with careless grace about
the shoulders. The furniture and
adornments about the boudoir, of which
this beautiful being was represented as
the sole occupant, were likewise color
less. Hinged everywhere with bits of
shining silver. In these, as in all the
lights and shadows of the picture, there
were some master strokes of work.
With cunning design and wonderfully
delicate execution there was presented
the semblance of filmy frost-work over
the window through which the sunlight
reflected a mellow radiance. Across
ono frozen pane the shapely hand OF the
girl was clearly defined as the fore
finger traced the letters of a half-finish-
ed sentence: 'Love laughs at -"
The smiling lips and love-lit eyes ex-
pressed an all-absorbed and tender in
terest, and / could not resist an actual
pSng of jealous emotion as l gazed
upon this strangely fascinating creature
Of an artists skill and q poets fancy.
&or only in such an ideal world as they
can create did / dream snch charms