The Sunday herald and weekly national intelligencer., 1890-09-14
A FIT OF THE BLUES.

Dear reader, have you ever been in one of those
humors when everything goes wrong, when on
opening your eyes in the morning you are
doomed to disappointment The water for your
bath is too cold; you can find nothing, and after
vainly endeavoring to keep your temper in your
search for pin you really must have you won
der where your belt ribbon could have gone to,
and come to the conclusion breakfast is very,
very early this morning. The bright rays of the
morning sun pouring in your window dlspresses
you with its glare. You go and pull in the shut
ters and start down stairs.
The good mornings" of the family, even the
difference in tone makes you cross. You deter
mine this time you will keep your feelings to
yourself, but stephen is there stephen the
teaSsSeEand lease his mild questioning of how you
feel" is irritating, Nellie's merry laugh madden
ing. How happy every one seems! "Got out on
the wrong side of the bed,n some one says. You
keep back the tears which in II women are dam
gerously near the surface, and finish your break
1ast IN silence. As you were late everything is
cold, every one nearly through. You take no
interest in the daily news, and go off to the draw
isng;room. the blinds are closed, for the heat is
fading the blue from the chairs. The cool and
dark is a relief. You grope your way to the
furthest corner, throw yourself on the divan,
and literally bury your head in its pillows, let
ting the soft feathers come over your ears, shut
ting out everything but your own unhappiness
,I, You are Thoroughly conscious you are 'acting
like baby" but the knowledge does not make
you feel any the better; and there you stay, per-
you are called upon to endure by dear friends"
How hollow life really is! What's the use trying
to be or do anything? Nothing you do ever does
words empty words, Of a man whom only
last night. standing before a picture on
your dressing table, you thought as true
as steel. All this because an envelope with a
blue stamp was not there as usual to greet you
on coming from peaceful land of dreams to the
busy, bustling one of actual life. You fatter
yourself you don't really care, only your pride is
hurt at the ungratefulness. And every one is so
ddissagreeable. dis Stephen looks in and smiles.
'Sulks ~ is all you hear him say. You don't
move You would not give him the satisfaction
OF letting him know you heard him, and you still
stay there, wishing you could die Would they
be sorry? You believe they would, and the
thought is some consolation. Paul might then
standing by yoL, now so still and cold. He
would stroke, your hair sadly, saying Poor
kiss you. He would feel, but too late, the loss,
and stephen would look grave Poor mother!
You seem to think of nothing. Then you are
g92iing 2iII through wood, down shady path, on to
little thatched cottage In one of the dainty,
bowl OF, roses. How neat it is and you smile.
It. ft,n is MS hH home and yours Hardly the your
you smile again. This time your eyes soften as
hard at his art and SO much in earnest for ala
dear old mother and an invalid sister so far away.
You 90 not go in, but walk around the house
down the grove path between the tall, red holly
hooks to the bank of the river, there to wait for
his coming. How swift the river runs! And
the bend and you wave to it. 1t is quite near
now. sudden jerk, the boat capszes, and
you give scream, put out your hand to save
him; him; and are awake, with mothers kindly but
frightened face leaning over you. Had a bad
dream? Come to lunch. dear: and here are two
letters forgotten, this morning" You take
them, and draw the dear face near and kiss it.
ana hd,,t murmur W something little shamefacedly
ABOUT o not feeling well; but are better now. You
put your arm around her, leave your comfort
ers pillow, the dream still vivid in your mind
You are oalmer, perhaps kinder. After eating
good lunch you ask Nellie to take drive, de-
termined to make Stephen soft silk necktie and
put new strings on a cap for the dear forgiving
mother, who so little understands she is the in
nocent cause for the sudden coming and going
OF those friends, "the blues" Still bit ashamed
you sit and chat Then you go off to your room,
straight to your desk-your best friend to read,
then to write, but never word of the mornings
gloom. The letters, so full of health and promise
Of OF success, haye driven away the last shadow Of
the dream. You are still little provoked but
at yourself this time, and wonder how you could
nave been so childish and silly.
Il. +. HARDEE
Take the, California trip to view the finest