Gloucester County Democrat., 1893-03-23
THE WITCH MAIDEN.
| had never loved.

I had never loved.
From my earliest years had always
eyinced pronounced aversion for the
sspetticoat interest, as Kenelm Chilling
ly SO facetiously dubs that sneaking re-
gard for feminine charms. took pride
in my defensive attitude and plumed my
self on every possible occasion with my
stoical invulnerableness and scornful in
differentism toward the blind god of the
| quivers.
And since had just attained to the
eminently sensible age of thirty fan
cied-aye, felt posiive-that might be
pronounced "out of danger, SO to speak,
and that need no longer fear. the art
fulness Of the weaker sex.
The gay and reckless period of youth
from eighteen to twenty eight had
passed quietly and happily, having ex-
! perienced none of the ''pangs Of disprized
love nor the infinite @ bliss of an affec-
tion returned"
To insure my safety had not lived
the life Of a recluse and refused all con-
course with the adorable fair. On the
contrary, had first made study of the
sex, and in order to do this effectually
and successfully | must needs mingle
with them, lavishly fiatter them, hypo-
critically worship at the shrines Of
beauty and a meaScr intelligence, rush
the fashionable functions, talk society
chitchat until l felt d driveling idiocy
creeping on, and live in such epicurean
style that finally fell sore victim to
indigestion.
Verify, this butterfly life is not what
it's cracked up to be, soliloquized Land
so, without further ado or ceremony,
dropped out Of the madding crowd and
sought the level of commonplace
All, these social castes! What hollow
mockeries, what monumental iesl
The social waters glisten with a clean,
sparkling surface; there are beautiful,
clear cut waves that flash thousand
binding lights; the white pillows roll on
in magniicence of state, and the view to
one standing on the hot; burning sands
is one of awe and a grandeur unriyaled.
But when one leaps into those tempt
ing deeps, lured into them perhaps by
the siren voice Of some false Lorelei-
what delusion! Ach, Himmel! 1t is
all mud and weeds beneath. The cur
rents are cold, and they are the currents
of public opinion and conventionality.
Huge monsters clasp us in the death grip
Of their savage tentacles, and these we
call avarice, jealousy, hypocrisy, ambi-
ton and vainglory, each with its thou
sands Of fendish allies. All, it is mis-
cradle specter-this social apparitionl
Occasionally one comes upon coral
cave, rich in its purity and stainless
beauty, and one wonders how such a
marvel can exist in all this ugly filth and
loathsome decay.
All honor be to him who seeks to drain
away the dregs Of social sins and brings
sweet wholesomeness to unhealthful
lifel But, ye gods! what a herculean
task, what chimerical fanaticism, holy
though it bel
Wearied and disgusted with the hor-
rible sham, quit its Shiny deeps to lay
myself down upon the sun bathed shores
Of simplicity and unworldliness.
/ Some said l had been disappointed in
love. I, scoffer at the grand passion,
as the eternal enemy of marriage! But
what cared I for the senseless babble Of
the world-I was no longer of it. lived
in.the quiet of my own thoughts-nature
my only mistress. :
! At thirty I was a bachelor and-a
cynic, though by no means a misan-
thrope. took life luxuriously and COM
placently. College days had come and
gone had wandered aimlessly about
meath blue italian skies, amused myself
for time in German university and
| had now, in response to an unconquer-
able longing, returned to my native
cline, here to suffer the one calamity Of
my otherwise TRANQUILITY happy existence
Had l but known to what fate my steps
were leading me! Could the impenetrable
veil of the future but have been drawn
aside and the vision of that impending
gloom been for moment viGblei All,
what misery spared, what heartache
what intolerable bitternessw
By one of those strange, inexplicable
impulses SO common to us all, was
urged to the scene of early youth. Thus
it was that in the beautifully picturesque
and popular summer resort known as
c., on the shores of Lake Michigan, l
found myself one glorious day in June
one of those rare, heavenly days in that
dear month of roses
The old place had undergone a decid-
edly revolutionary metamorphosis since
had ceased to call it home. The lazy,
dreamy atmosphere of the village had
been quickened into more vigorous ac-
ton. Old landmarks had disappeared
with the influx of wealth Old customs
had been superseded by new flights Of
fashion, and cid faces had been crowded
out by the now.
In mood of morbid retrospection ]
had been winding my way through the
tortuous paths of H park, musing
upon the had beens and the might have
beens. A haunt in the city Of the dead
had been favorite one with me in the
old days, and unconsciously found my
steps directing me along the familiar
walk. An ideal silent land it is. Som
Der, yet intensely soothing, it seems al
ways to speak word Of good cheer to
the living and bid us fear not the scythe
Of the dread reaper
Wandering over the stupendous hills
and down long ravines, emerged at last
upon a towering cliff looking out upon
the waters of the great lake. There was
a solemnity, d grandeur unspeakable in
the view bowed my head in reyer-
ence to the creator Of such marvellous
beauty. My soul was faint with emo
ton. sank down upon the earth and
closed my eyes to shut ont the dazzling
light. | fell into a half wakeful, half
sleepful DREAM dream Of elysium.
How long lay in this delicious slumber
I know not. Suddenly, impulsively l
opened my eyes, to behold--oh, ye Fatesl
AN angel from heaven. So she seemed
to me as Igazed into the lustrous depths
Of those Questionable eyes.
! A Divinity A daughter of the gods!
She stood 1najestically on the edge Of the
cliff, her perfect physique distinctly out
lined against the clear sky. She was
clothed in pure white, with single
bunch of wild violets at her throat. Her
features were startlingly classic; the
neck and shoulder, partly barred, were
/ like Parian marble, SO spotless in their
L