Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1893-01-29
A CONFESSION.
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF HER.
MANN SUNDERNANN.
BY STELLA GOODRICH Russell.

o, this Christmas time, l believe a
cruel fate takes extra pains TO Perse-
cute US bachelors and bring TO our at
tention the desOlateness Of homeless ex-
Istence. For what 20 others Is a WELL
spring Of pleasure is a torture TO us; Ell,
OF course are not wholly sOlitary-many
OF the joys Of the season are ours; u
the true happiness Of cOmpanlonSnlp Is
denied US and becomes em0ittered TO US
partly through a dose OF selt-irony,
partly through that passion when l
might call, opposition 10 homeslekness,
marriage sickness.
WHY did 1 not come and pour out my
heart 70 YOU, you ask me, you sYmpa-
thetic soul you. who lavish comfort IN
the same rich measure that others OF
your dainty sex give malice? Well,
there were difficulties in the way. Do
Won know what Speidel says in his
charming talks on SOLITARY Amuse-
ments" which you sent me on Christmas
Day with a correct presentiment OF my
mental condition? The true bach
elor," he says, Twill not be cOmtorted.
Once unhappy, he insists upon the en-
iOyment OF his unhappiness."
Beside the SOLITARY Bachelor" which
Speidel describes there IS another
species. the Family Friend" L do not
mean that large profession OF family de-
stroyers who lie IN wait with desperate
ewes while they make themselves COM
Portable at the Preside; l mean the good
upcle: papa's OLD schOOlmate, he who
trots the baby on his knee while he reads
the newspapers to mamma, emitting
improper passages.
know men who spend their whole
lives 10 the service OF a family, recetv-
ing for their share friendship; men,
who, desiring nothing more, are ad-
mitted 70 the society Of q beautiful wo-
mar whom they, In a holy manner,
adore.
You doubt it! An, these words, "de-
string nothing are what you take eX-
ception to. You may not be wrong. In
the heart Of the moss subdued heart
lies, perhaps q wild wish, but-well
controlled-it lies in chains.
could tell you, for an illustration, OF
q t~ete-a-tete that took place one New
Years evening hetS6een sWo very old
msn. Where 1 learned il, let that re-
main my secret and pray do not repeat
it. Now may 1 begin?
Imagine for the Ger a room with
high ceilings, Old-fsshioned chairs, mis-
erably lighted by a queer shaded but
brightly polished hanging lamp, such as
our parents used before the era Of Pc
troleum. The rays OF light from the
fame fell upon q round white covered
table on which are the ingredients OF 3
New Years bowl.
Half obscured In the rich shades Of
the green screen, sat my two Old men,
Of q time long past, both trembling with
age, both gazing before them out Of dull
syes with the apathetic look of the old.
One. the host, an old soldier as you
would have known at the first sight Of
his tight, stiff-laced collar, pointed, half
shaven beard and the martial-like
. Frinkled eyebrows, held the propeller
Ofthe rolling chair in which he sat like
clutch in both hands. He was quiet,
save fer the tremulous movement Of his
lips
The other, who sat near him on the
sofa, a tall thin figure, on whose slender
shoulders sat eDthrOned a broad brOwed,
thoughtful head, ~meditatively pulled
clouds Of smoke from a long pipe. In
the thousand wrinkles OF his plain dried
up face, which was crowned with snow
white looks, he still retained a tender
smile, as II only the happiness OF renun-
citation was impressed 90 the old mans
co~untenance.
Both were silent. In the stiffness
the soft bubbling o. the burning oil
mingled with the light putting Of the
pipe. Then the clock in the dark back
ground, with hoarse rhyming, began TO
strike TIE eleventh hour.
This is the time she used TO brew the
the punch" said the man with the
thoughtful brow. His voice was In the
minor key and trembled a little.
eyes, it is the time" answered the
other. The tone of his voice was harsh,
as if still holding the ring Of COM
mander.
II did not think it would be so sad
without her" continued the first.
The host nodded again.
"She made the New Years bowl for
US forty-four times began the other
once more.
Eyes, as long as I have lived here in
Berlin and You have been the friend Of
the family" said the old soldier.
"a year ago at this time" continued
the other, 1--WE were so happy together.
She sat there in the easy chair and
knitted socks for Paul'S eldest boy and
hurried, for they must be ready at -
o'clock, she said. And they were ready,
too. Aud then We drank and spoke
cheerfully Of death, and two months az
ter she was carried out. You know l
have written a good deal on The I'm
morality of the IDEAL You never could
endure il. / also can't endure it since
YOU wife died. The whole ideal world
is not worth a rush to me-"
'Yes, she was a good WIFE," said the
husband, she cared for me honestly.
When / had TO 90 out in the service at
5O'clOck she arose before me and saw
thai the coffee vas good. To be sure
she had her faults also. When she be-
a to philosOphize with yOu-then."
''You never understood her, muir
INJURED the other. The corners Of his
mouth quivered as II cOncealing anger,
but the look that rested long on his
friend was tender and sad, as IL a Quie.
consciousness OF guilt lived in his soul.
After a period Of silence he began;
"Franz, / must tell you something
that has long tracked me and 1 find i'm
possible TO carry to the grave unex-
pressed"
ssWsl, 90 ahead" said the host, and
be grasped the long pipe which rested
against his chair.
0There was once between yOur wife