The weekly Thibodaux sentinel and journal of the 8th Senatorial District. [volume] (Thibodaux, Lna. [i.e. La.]) 1875-1898, 1893-06-17
A CLUBMAN'S IDEAL.

Baddington knew it wasn't his fault,
but it was deuced hard just the same.
He was young, had a pot of money and
was good looking. Yet in all his %
years he lad never excited a grande pas
sion: in fact. he had never been kindled
himself to 4 wildly adoring dream of one
fair woman, whose kiss should be like
an electric touch, to send his blood throb-
bling to his temples and make his soul
palpitatc like the dickens.
And this was the great aching void in
his life. Charlie Baddington was wor-
ried with this idea. He used to hear the
fellows at the club talk about things of
that kind, and they, all of them. were so
much more successful than he in having
affairs. OF course he could take a Casino
chorus girl to ONeill's and open cham
payne, OF have a drinking round in the
Figaro with a BLACK Crook" French
lady, who could assume such an IN
broken horizontally with her eyes on
the stage of the Academy, but that was
so easy and so cheap-in its sentiment,
not in cold cash-that B~a3dington's
yearning was not satisfied. he wanted
to be loved for himself, to win a fair
creature without having his pocketbook
do all the wooing. All the other fellows
at the club seemed to have had several
affaires de ceur. In fact, it seemed
mere wayside diversion, an episode with
them too common to be notable.
He left the club at go that Sunday
evening, and as he started up the avenue
this old thought began to ferment in his
mind. He had a great deal Of Ruinart
in his stomach, and that was rather a
stimulus to fancy. His desire rolled
around in a haZy atmosphere, which
seemed to soften outlines and intensity
color. There was q slight roll in his
walk, too, but at that time there We're
few people abroad to mark it, and it
seemed a physical rhythm that Graded
the yearning of his soul to a sort Of
peaceful hope.
1t was one of those hay nights when
everything swims in a violet atmos-
phere. AS lie was passing a large house
his heart gave a sudden jump. There
stood the very realization of his dream
in the window. Somewhat back, but
looking forth on the warm, dusky night,
charged with diffused moonlight.
Tall, fair, SO wrapped in contempla-
ton, white as the calyx of an Easter
lily and robed in immaculate draperies.
In fact, she might have risen from her
couch and clad in vestal snowiness of
slumber robes have come to look forth
and ease her heart by silent communion
for awhile with nature.
Baddington felt that if he could only
win her attention at such a moment it
would be the needed turn in Fortunes
wheel. He braced up and essayed a
sprightly air. In fact, he darted a bold,
languishing glance at the lovely creature
as he was passing and in desperate bold
ness lifted his hat.
He felt sure that there was a slight
movement, as if she had gently waved her
hand. Nothing bold, a sweet maidenly
gesture, prompted by some sudden emo.
ton of the heart. He could not distin.
guish it we'll, as she stood some distance
within the room. but he felt it must be
SO. 1t was so, he was sure.
He made his way home with a wild
satisfaction in his mind. If he had ex.
cited an interest in that pure, graceful
creature, standing there in her virginia.
whiteness, into what might not the game
develop. The other fellows had never
struck such a romance as this.
He thought a great deal about the mat
ter the next day. How could he ap
proach this divinity who came in her fair
nesst commune with the lovely peaceo
the might? Perchance she felt some yearn-
ing like that in his own breast and haf
stolen from her cosy chamber in that still
hour to breathe it forth by that look up
on the sweet peace Of the world. Who
could tell what impression he had created
as he passed before her visionat that mo
ment2 If he had been moved, and he had
deeply. why might not a kindred feeling
have stirred her soul? Why not? There
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