Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1888-12-19

morning AS knelt the sun seemed suddenly to
leap up from behind two huge walls and smoke
stacks and almost blinded me with its glory.
Your love has filed me, wrapt me, gilded me,
overpowered me, just so, dear, and in its splen-
dor shall ripen to something wholesome, /
trust. Yours, love, ''WELLINGToN."
Mr.. Brown laid this letter on a chair.
What blooming young idiot ! must
have been," he said. He opened an
other.
"MY OWN GIRL: IT have been wondering to-
night how men grow old and hard Unjust surely
be because they have no Christ and no sweet Bios
som !! o, dear me, when remember your soft nair,
your lovely eyes, your true red lips, yourtender
voice, I am in ecstasy And when | think OF
Cnrlst-by the way, dear, doyou know, think the
churches have spoiled Christ for so many Of us.
Do you know He seems SO fascinating to me
chivalous, gentle. brave, humorous, affect1onate
appreciative, satirical, Misunderstanding in
short that can give man strong individuality.
How original He was Ho, poetical . Bios
som. pray for me that some faint reflex. OF His
glory may fall on me- l am writing day and
night, love. Some day perhaps you will be
proud of me- Adieu, little one. God bless YOU
I am trightiully lonely and do not know soul
When Mr.. Brown bad finished, he
dropped his head on his hand.
"Good God ~ he said. tGood God ~
He sat long time SO and then he took
up another letter.
30, MY SWEET Can 1t be true? Is Fate so
kind Have you heard; can you guess | am
est way 1t is like leaf from romance The
mines hat told you about that father but
never mind the particulars. will come down
myself and tell it to you bstween kisses. Now
all of our dreams will be realized. will take
finishing course at college, travel about bit,
and by that time you will be through school and
old enough to be my wife. o love, love, love
Then, wherever go, shall we not make some
one happier and better. There is so muck to do.
so many sophistries to kill, SO, many men and
women to help-alas, SO many to fight. But we
will not die others die and leave the world no
! better 1! | will be with you. dear, before you
have written answer to this wild letter Your
own w. B."
The man whose initials signed that
letter got up and staggered to the mir.
ror. His eyes were bloodshot,> the lines
about his mouth sensuous and selfish.
81 haven't friend in the world" he
said. He stood and looked at himself
as if he were confronting some stranger.
"Why should | go away There is
no place that | care to see-London,
Paris, Vienna, Petersburg, New York,
New Orleans ? I'm tired. / haven't
| friend in the world, not even a dog
that will lick my hand. Africa, Brazil,
the mountains, Sierras, Alps. Japan,
Florida, Mexico? There is nothing but
husks | cannot escape from myself.
| That had wings like" He went
to the closet. There was good many
bottles on the shelf. Il might get
drunk" he said, with savage laugh.
But he took down bottle of morphine.
There's enough, he said, with salts
faction; "and, by Jove, it's the quick
est way. There's not a soul to mind"
He raised it carelessly to his lips and
kept it there. Heavens, what terror
that watch of his was 1t did beating
enough for an eight-day clock. Sud-
denly a queer thing happened. He
110 hok4 L. -
as glad as schoolboy's. Then he be-
linen, brushed his hat till it shone like
mirror, selected the newest of the
thirty five ties, found fresh gloves
He whistled as he did it. Once he
wept. Once he seemed to pray. Then
he fell to whistling again. Twas
strain from French operetta. But
what did that matter He was not
swearing. He packed a valise. Then
he got Il paper and looked through it
with Impotence At length he found
what he wanted. He consulted his
watch.
1.-THE chop house keeps open all
night" he said, and he seized the va
lise and rushed out The church bells
were ringing. Its not Sunday" he
said, puzzled. "No, but it's Christmas,
by all that's curious ~ He sat in the
chop house an hour, and ate with an
honest appetite that he had long been
a stranger to. Then be called cab
An hour later he was past the last sIg-
gestion of d city, flying westward over
the prairie.
The little dressmaker had been invIt-
ed out to dinner, and that was the rea-
son she had on her nut brown silk
"a How of icfr ho
town folk were making the most OF it.
The dressmaker had some bitter-sweet
In her hair-charming hair with streaks
OF gray. They were premature streaks,
TOR her face was smooth and youthful
though SO pale-a delicate face with
eyes as soft as doves. It was a quiet
face, with an expression that reminded
one of the dead calm of midsummer
sea. Such a calm stirs the heart as
much as a storm.
1t was curious room that the little
dressmaker sat in. 1t was long and
narrow, with hammock hung low
across one end. The floor was of a dark
polished wood with a rug Or two.
There were only two pictures on the
walls. One was sketch of sea paint
ed by nAsterly hand. The eedom
of the sea was in it, the waves leaped
gladly over one another. the wind
seemed to be rushing over it. The 9TH
er was a flight Of birds straight up into
the blue sky of the morning. There
were no tides, no ribbons, nothing to
mark the room a woman's, yet the little
dressmaker sat in iU before the fire.
place and looked about it lovingly-at
her books, her marble Mercury above
the fire, at the quaint carved table at
her side.
There was knock at the door.
The little dressmaker got up little
startled. 1t was certainly very rude
knock.
She waited two seconds. The knock
was repeated.
She opened the door. A man en-
tered without invitation.
The little dressmaker looked at him
afrighted.
Blossom he said. She went back
to the fireplace and sat down giddily.
He took off his coat and hat and flung
them in the hammock.
The little dressmaker did not 60 out