The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1897-05-30
CONTINUED from Second Page.l


goes far toward purifying the soul of
man through the body weakening process
and becalming and identifying the feat
ures OF an untamed youth of high spirit
In some such fashion as maternity cleanseS
the face of all ignobleness. One knows
OF the Magdalen, a black-shawled hur-
rylng figure, swept through the gateWa!
of the great public hospitals of the great
cities, almost actually blown III by snow
gust of the black night with almost frozen
tears of fright of shame. See the clean
cot twenty four hours later in the little
room, and see if one can find any trace Oh
SIN, of defiant passion left upon the lace
Of the girl other; the poison weeds Oh tne
night seem to have been flung aside, and
only the fragrance of the nature remains;
the angel of maternity had passed her
way and pain and scorn and all the nell
ish hues of the soul had fled, leaving
the brow quite serene and white. Tread
softly, Love, and touch her pallid CULVER
ing lips with the warm, red wine of thy
rich hearts mercy, lest the Pharisee first
shiveringly approach with the cup of cold
water which is the law. An
impertinent diversion was this last, to be
prepared physically for this further
French shock upon system that had not
yet developed into the absinthe phase Of
the Partisan. Yet he was in no way the
person to anticipate abnormal effects, for
he knew nothing of them, and so normal
a person was he that he could have felt
quite alarmed over the probability of ap-
preaching paralysis at even a tingling
sensation of the fingers, to which Monta-
que accustomed to such effects would
have not given a bare passing notice.
Montag que who would have gone into a
glee through the wear of a long fashion
able dinner. letting loose his tongue in
a kind of exaltation through sheer lack of
normal control with distinct conscious
ness, even in the midst of entirely unna-
tural laughter all mistaken for merriness,
and a distressed consciousness, yet an
entertained consciousness of it and max
ing an electric analysis of it all the while.
ct they were both taking their absinthe
with much gaiety at his moment; others
about them did it; FrecklewOrth distinct
ly did not do it: they were in Paris, and
they did it; for no one pretends that they
were model young men.
That night at the Grand Opera House.
though the season had passed its winter
noon glow. the passing show of Paris was
there. That was quite enough for the two
lads-a very proper name for them.
Freckleworth's collar was sitter and
higher than usual: if there were any
whipped wintry switch-strings in his
creased threadily-ribbed neck they did
not appear to the outside world. His toilet
was perfect. his sang froid something to
which his young companions looked for
ward as terminus in ideals to be
reached some day-if they plunged deeply
enough into Bohemia. Bubbling Neville
was led into genuine applause even by the
venal sprinkling of claquers in front;
Montague followed in rather feeble
way, though had the two natures been
analysed under the repeated triumphs of
the prima donna Montague's would have
been found to be more thoroughly
thrilled by, let it be called grow
ing horizon of the heart. This disease
is not down in the books, but it is an af-
lection which will be recognized by all
these youthful natures, at least, who
have suffered such joy. There are devils
and angels tangled up together in this
thrili-such as beget desperate and tender
deeds of wild oats days, taking fiendish
chances at any game where even life is
the stake, teams one cannot tell why, de-
spair, love, agony, the exultation of reck-
lessness, superhuman confidence for an
instant in ones self to reach I'D and
touch the very hem of the garment of the
Beautiful. Such natives throb under one
great touch sometimes. perhaps in the
realm of music; they do not need to be
told that this is great note from the
eternal harmonies; they feel like bursting
into rush of hallelujahs because
something that has been chilled
III the heart has felt
a warm caress as if a loved one had come
greetingly back from the dead-and then
what. The lips are shut close as when by
panic of people narrow door
ways are wedged and the
heart has to labor and rock with
the feyerish feelings that reach from
heaven to hell. SO few words escaped the |
Ups OF Montague; he did not say he |
loved the music; what counts the poor. |
shrivelled word love- he said to him
SELF as his great eyes almost pulsated. |
hrst with glow, then with blazing spark |
ling lustrousness. Mo- he would saw to |
himself, Il can have the JOY of commun- |
ing with the Beautiful in the creations !
OF all masters, without saying off a few |
scraps OF society sentences. to be AMI
sWered, perhaps, by some bludgeon- |
hearted blacksmith Of a phiIistine that |
what he liked was certain trick triIl |
somewhere. No, he would carry the pains |
OF JOY within, unless sometime somewhere |
some soul dumb from IKE cause would |
burst INTO seemingly omniscient essence
that at once heard his unspoken lang
uage and understood. And in this. per-
maps, morbid drift Montague's thoughts |
Travelled far afeld, and the dazzling toj |
lettes merged into a common mass. and |
the leading figures of the opera with |
their tlnsel chorus hoated further and |
further away into some kind Of fantastic !
fairy outline changing and re- |
cedlng, from which came voices |
as from rocks musical with silver waters.
linen Montague would catch himself with
Ieellng somewhat Of cowardly shame.
over feelings at which the world grows
Iat with derisive laughter, but he would
Whisper TO himself mo one knows but me-
l can laugh quite merrily a moment now
ana mock my hottest feeling with some
uecePtiVe oauble Of a word, and be taken
ioi me conventional jester-let it be thatv'
anu with this, he would throw some piece
VI uroliery into Neville's ear touching GER
ldlh gay groups OF women in their dia-