Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1893-09-15
THE GLOOMY SIDE.
SOME POINTS ON THE WOMEN WHO
DOTE ON THE GREWSOME.

Gloating over the Things mnlch Cause
Them Pain - Gathering Pansies, but
Looking For Snakes-Episode of a News
paper woman's Street Car Ride.
The other day was riding in street
car. There were II women and men
in the same quarters. We logged along
our way as people do out of whose life
all interest had been taken by hot day,
as rude nurse snatches playthings from
helpless children. Whether "school kept
or not" was matter of not the slightest
moment to any of us. Indeed 1 had rea-
son to hope that should never again be
confronted with bulletins as to the rise
and fall of that mythical educational
bureau whence we all draw more or less
of knowledge fraught with bitter expe-
rience. It's pupils are SO stupid and its
head preceptor so unrelenting that have
long been a-weary of its curriculum.
Opposite in the car sat ayoung woman
whom l often meet and shall continue to
meet, suppose, until the sexton shovels
few feet of dust between our faces. If
she were a man, she would be in the at
titude of one who is "spoiling for a
fight" What is mere combativeness
in men takes the form of insolence IN
women and is harder to bear. This
young person eyes my clothes. She
gloats over my shabbiness. She knows
exactly how many times day my poor
old gown is groomed. She is cognizant
of the fact that my off shoe has sprung
leak, and as she losses her head and
smiles the smile that, passed from wom-
an to woman, means more than blow
l seem to hear her say: "Ha, cumberer,
are you here yet? Last time met you
l thought l stared You down, but such
rubbish seems hard to kill! A trifle
more ridicule, though, slightly yelled,
like poison in a capsule, will lay you
low, and I shall have the pleasure of
turning my battery upon some other
God forsaken crank who appears to have
more brains than style!"
We were tumbling along in the old
street car, tired and dirty lot of US,
bound for the depot. AS we passed q
certain undertaker's shop on the way we
noticed that big crowd had collected
at its doors-a hushed crowd, with white
faces and bated breath. A police patrol
was drawn up to the curbstone and four
brawny officers were lifting something
out of the wagon and carrying 1t within
the undertaker's open gate. The some
thing that lay beneath the old tarpaulin
was very still and outlined itself sharply
beneath the sable folds of the pail that
covered it. | turned away from the
sight, for there is that within me that
revolts from such sights as the butterfly
does from the thistle or the swift run
ming boat from capful of head wind.
l knew we'll enough what the "some-
thing" was. Ten minutes before per-
haps it had been man, swinging like a
sailor on the uplifted ladder where the
painter pursues his craft, or careless
vagabond knocked down by passing
vehicle and straightway ushered into the
audience chamber Of the great and only
King, or a merry hearted boy spurned by
q flying wheel, or tired old woman
lifted high as heaven" by the tender
arms Of death. l knew very well that
the awful something was once breath
ing, laundering mortal like myself and
that sudden calamity had transferred
it into clay, how or in what terrible
manner l did not care to see. But ev-
cry woman in the car in which rode
jumped from her seat to watch the
grewsome thing turned away from.
"Oh, wish the cover would fall off SO
that we could see!" cried one.
Lift Willie up SO that he can lookv'
exclaimed careful o. mother, making
room as she spoke for the nursegirl to
place the little boy in better position.
No sooner did al these women gain a
vantage point from where they could
best behold the dreadful burden which
the policemen bore without either ten
derness or care into the waiting station
of the morgue than they began to trem-
BILE and to cry
ooh, dear, how dreadful" moaned
they in unison. while their fascinated
gaze was unaverted and their necks
were craned to see it all.
And then because l am philosopher
in my own poor fashion and can no more
help philosophizing than a spider can
help spinning webs l said to myself:
That is the way with all of usl We seek
out our own discomforts and we cul-
tivate them with our own tears. We
gloat over the very things that bring US
pain and take front seat to witness our
own tragedies. Given, the most of us, a
chance to spend an afternoon among the
tombs or to go fishing for goldfish out
of a crystal pond, and we will trot along
with the mourners ever!y time. We are
always in the attitude (most Of us) of
the Peterkin family at the aide. They
were continually looking off shore for
whales, and they saw W hales and moth
ing but whales from seasons start to
seasons close! What we look for we
find, what we SOW we reap, what we
dread we draw and what we expect
comes to us.
Take two girls and send them out
through the divine beauty of these June
woods with a basket apiece. They are
after violets, we will say, although the
purple drapery of the dim spirit flower
has been almost Withdrawn from the
woods already, like a curtain uplifted
by an eager hand. One Of the girls is
afraid Of snakes and declares the sight
of one would kill her on the spot. How
she looks for them! How eagerly she
watches every tremor Of the under
brush! How she starts at floating tim
othy and shrieks when a clover jostles
In tho windl And she sees snakes
plenty of EN-! She goes home with an
empty basket and has to take a pow
der to quiet her nerves. The other
girl keeps her mind onviolets and never
sees a serpents trail. She goes home
with n basketful of flowers and dreams