Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1895-02-14
HIS COUSINS WIFE.

He came down to the grand old river
bound plantation To visit his cousin,
whom his mother had taught him to
love and revere; and he experienced a
pang Of regret on learning that his
cousin was away from home for an in
definite length OF time.
While he sat in the old-fashioned par
lor thinking of his dead mother n
this unknown cousin whose generosity
had so cheered his life, his cousins
wife came in to welcome him with
warm, outstretched hands, and after
that he almost ceased to reckon time.
She was so much younger than ne
had expected. and so beWilderlngly
lovely that he vas content to stay on
and ON, dimly conscious that he was
dishonorable-that he ought to 90 away
yet finding 1t more Impossible as the
DAYS went by, and soothing his uneasy
conscience by the assurance that ne
ought to wait till his cousins return.
DAYS heightened into weeks, ana ne
began to feel as If his cousin We're a
INVITA- dark, cloudy, threatening
dream. They had eve talked or him
much. and now his name never passed
their lips.
Sometimes when they sat together,
on the wide veranda overlooking the
swollen river that Tapped hungrily
against the leyee, he caught a glimpse
of something like despair in her eyes
md noticed the pathetic, downward
- Jr az what was Gnp
thinking? He would have given half
his life to know.
She had been watching a whitening
ed fruit lugger and, turning to him,
caught the anxious questioning OF his
pale face.
What do you see out there2" she
asked: Did you think you saw some
one drowningT'
"DrowningY He shook his head;
then his glance met hers. and suddenly
he lost all desire to hide his feelings
for her. He bent forward, resting his
chin In his hands, and a glow sutfused
his boyish features; he would have
spoken then, but she interrupted him
with a half frightened wish to make
him stifle what she knew he u not
tell.
How horrible it must be to drown"
she said hurriedly-''to feel the terri
BILE, dark waters closing in upon one
pressing dOwn-down-into that hide
Gus, filthy slime"
You are mistaken he answered;
In the second Of time she had given
he had regained his ~Self-cOntrUl, and
the excitement that had darkened his
and redeemed his cheek had faded,
too; 81 would rather drown than die
any other way; just think Of lying in
the soft, cool water, letting the little
waves kiss you a. the darkness re
ceives yOu-the still, cool darkneSs-'
Hush, you are ghOulish! What do
you want with silence and darkness!
l want 0 to go out into the light and
make something Of your talents. |
want to hear Of you sometimes, after
you leave-uS!'
She held out her small. white hand
10 him, and though he hungered to kiss
1t pasSiULatcly. yet he wilfully miSun-
derStood, and. STOPPING, lifted her hand
kerGhict from the floor and gave it to
her.
Many nights he paced up and down
the mOonlit veranda, after she had
S'AAN w ~ A''4A' u y us w lEtti mn
self away before her husbands return.
Yet the memory OF her dark, hopeless
eyes and wtstful lips drove all the
blood in his body Surgiug from his
heart to his brain and back again. till
he was Tiddy, and pressed his fore
head against the cold white pillars to
feel the breeze from the river ripping
his hair.
Then in the morning he lost all wish
to go, and hCvered about her, like the
wrctched moth that kisses the light till
his body falls dead.
Once he nerved himself to ask a few
questions about her husband, who must
o2 Oh a strange character to leave her
thus alone for weeks at a time. She
looked at the boys handsome face
and half smiled; then. pointing to a
bit of driftwOod tossing Oh the waves
In the wake Of a passing steamer, she
said earnestly.
Women r like yOnder piece Of
drift-they only live in the wake of a
II ms life, are tossed by the careless
movements hither and thithcr as long
as they a follow-and then"
Her embroidery had fallen from her
hands; now she took it up again, laugh
ing with forced gaiety.
'Then--there are always these i'm
possible flowers, in impossible colors,
to console us. Our ideals and our
flowers are alike-impossibler'
III.
On the next day a letter came from