St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1895-08-03
SHADOW OF A THOUGHT.
BY HARRY LANDER

S11ADO vi IA .11kVOuu1 IL
BY HARRY LANDER
Fred Selfton was melancholy. appar
emily without any just cause. He had
spent very pleasant day in the exc
cution of his duties in the shelving de-
partment Of the home Office, where he
had read the morning paper. washed
his hands three times. chaffed BERTHE
Hapes and heard the latest gossip from
Tommy Townie. Then Tommy had
taken him to the Junior Gatherium to
recuperate. and his journey down to
Ealing had been most comfortable. It
summer. his little villa looked particu-
larly bright and comfortable. and he
still had an hour to lounge away before
dinner, which was the most cherished
aim of his daily life. Yet he sighed rs
he opened tn. door and entered his
home.
Kate had taken the baby to see her
mother. but would be back to dinner.
This was not unusual. but upon this
occasion it struck him as being very
inconsiderate of her. Having performed
his toilet he wandered mournfully
about the garden. Then retiring to
his study-a misnomer. for he was
guiltless of such folly-he lit . cigar
cite and flung himself into an easy
chair with the air of a man weary of
existence. Had his wife been present
she would have wondered anxiously
what calamity had overtaken them,
hut the fact was nothing more alarm
ing than that her lord and master was
suffering from what Is technically
termed 1.-The hump"
The other men in his room had been
discussing holidays. Gapes was saving
himself for a months salmon fishing in
Sunderlandshire, Townie contemplated
billetin9 himself upon his cousin. who
was attached to the embassy at Vien-
ma. Williamson was engaged for .
yachting cruise to Norway. and Elliot
had raved of the green golf links Mt
Eastbourne. He had yawned dismally
and mentioned Herne bay, with the wife
and family. in tones which quite justi-
fed Townie in holding him up rs IN
awful example of premature matri-
mony.
Now, in his heart he called himself
fool. for in these days = man OF thir-
ty is too young for such responsible
ties apd-well, privations. OF course.
he had been quite infatuated with
Kitty. as were several better men.
The first year of their married life had
been Is charming as the last chapter
of q three-volume novel, and ne had
never enjoyed anything 20 much rs
that delightful scamper about the con-
tinent they had together. Now, there
was the baby. jolly little chap. but
responsibility. and a somewhat costly
one. After all, there was sound wis
dom in Townie's cynicism. There are
two aspects of the marriage question.
usually considered before and after.
He was just realizing the unpleasant
one.
He had never seen the club look moro
cozy than it did that afternoon. He
had been welcomed by crowd OF men,
the pleasant associates Of past life,
who seemed genuinely happy to meet
him again. He had been d very popu-
lar man, and some of them still remem-
bered his little evenings in Gray's inn.
What pleasant rooms they were, to be
sure At one time he used to think |
that Kitty had sacrificed q great deal
when she married him. but perhaps |
the renunciation was not SO one-sided |
as he he'd imagined. For instance. |
hnr Ia l,,lN or~
er afford to 60 there. and with it he !
had renounced oil intellectual society. |
Kittys people and their neighbors |
were rich and respectable. Most ad- |
mirable of their kind. they ate. drank.
slept. and made money; withal. most |
worthy creatures, but particularly un-
Mr.. Turner. her father,
was type-a kindly. honorable man,
but without the slightest artistic or
literary culture; he could talk for
hours of his business, and knew more
!, Nost tallow than any other man in
b. aud. Fortunately. his pride of
this distinction was slightly mitigated
~ the fact that he was also ! connois-
opor Of wiiAes- His sons wore riding
hreoe1ps on Sunday mornings and read
"The Lunax Mon th" in their bedroom.
His eldest daughter was gifted with
N ufiicient religfoas enshusiAsm for ten
such families, whlle Mrs Turner was
in the extreme.
His thoughts wandered to GeorRie de
vaux. his old college. chum. who had
shared those Gray's inn chambers He
was always bright and witty. he could
dance all night and work all day. pull
: rood oar, sail half-rater against the
hest. walk ftfty miles, ride like cen
taur, sing. drink and gamble. with
never . headache or touch Of repent
>nce. Then the gay assemblage OF
.c.oes. artists and literary men, who
would there fore-gather to talk Of any
and everything. more especially OF the
treat things they were going to do.
And bv no means the least were those
iolly holidays upon the river. the sea.
snd the continent Faugh. il was
.wful 70 contemplate; : whole month
& ! seaside boarding house. Yswn
49, tho newspaper all the morning. a
..eke tAe acquaintancs of thoae oejec-