San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1893-04-05

were once smiles as gay ana DIusnes as
tender between him and a damsel as
buXOm.
Poor fellowI his dinner did him no
good. He grew moodier and moodier.
The little scene between his sister and
Hendrecus had made him miserable.
He could not sleep like Van Wart, nor
play cards with Galsworthy nor sky
lark with Hendrecus. He sat brooding
over his sorrow. His powers of self
control were weakened. He could not
throw off this weight of an old bitter
ness. A great vague misery oppressed
him. He began to fear his wits were
going.
IF l could only get these ugly feel
ings into shape" he thought, 81 could
grapple with them and choke them down.
must do something or shall go mad.
l believe I'll steal round through the
woods to where can see old Bilsby's
house and the chestnut tree where Abby
first said she'd have Inc. Looking at
the places may help me to drag this
grief out of myself and put it on them"
Now that the British troops were with
drawn for Vaughan's expedition, Jierck
felt quite secure in lodging about the
woods of the manor. He left his COM
paniOns in the barn and stole off toward
his father-in-law's old red farmhouse.
He felt as if he were his own ghost,
compelled to haunt a spot where he had
been murdered.
1t was quiet sunset. The golden light
of evening was among the golden woods.
The forest showered golden leaves upon
the ground and melted away in golden
notes across the level sunbeams.
Jierck stole along until he came to
little glade crossed by a pathway. A
great chestnut tree had made the glade
thrust back by its stout overshadowing
branches, and its brethren of the forest
had willingly given place to see what
their brother would do with its chance
of greatness. 1t had done ncbly. 1t
was an example to trees and the world,
of the wisdom of standing by ones
roots, expanding to ones sunshine and
letting ones self grow like a fine old
vegetable.
This had been Jierck's TRUSTING tree in
the times when the pastoral poem of his
life was writing itself, a canto a day.
Under this chestnut one summers eve,
when the whole tree was a great bou-
quet of fowery tassels, Jierck had sud-
denly ventured to pop his shy question.
Full throated robins up in those very
branches had shouted his sweetheart's
eyes" for all the birds and breezes to
repeat.
Jierck, hidden in the thicket, looked
kindly at the old tree. He smiled to re-
call the meetings there when he was a
timid, clumsy lover. For moment rec
objections half comic and all pleasant ban
ished his agony of a man betrayed by
dislOyal woman.
But presently he heard sounds that
were not the light clash of falling leaf
with falling leaf Footsteps and voices
were coming. Jierck withdrew little
and watched. Two women appeared up
the pathway, following their long shad-
ows. They came out into the glade. 1t
was his wife and her sister, furloughed
for the evening and ON their way home
ward.
Jierck beheld the woman's story writ
ten on her face-the tablet where all
stories of lives are written for decipher-
ers to read. He saw no wish there to
expunge or revise the later chapters.
His wife was still an insOlent, brazen
woman, the counterpart of her mistress
on a lower plane.
Poor Jierck! he had been drawn to
this spot, so he felt, to see his murderess
and be stabbed over again. The ex-
ceeding weight of his agony came crush
ing down upon him. He shivered. 1t
seemed to him that snow must suddenly
have fallen with sunset. A moment
ago it was not spring nor summer, but
very tolerable autumn; now winter had
come, chilly and dreary. A friendless
place to him this traitor world! Jierck
felt smitten with degradation. He was
utterly miserable, and the old chestnut
tree insulted him with memories of his
dead hopes of happiness.
81 must have comfort" thought
Jierck.
When sorrow is too sharp to be borne
and comfort must be had at once men
go to the anodynes and stimulants. Kos
mos provides these in great variety.
The four of most universal application
are:
Tobacco, alcohol, marriage, death.
Poor Jierck Dewitt wanted comfort at
once. A Whit of smoke from his pipe
was not concentrated enough, and he
could not wait to try what virtue there
| was in bigamy,