Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1897-09-16
SILAS' RAPTURE.

permanent residents of Kennersley and
one which never failed to attract the notice
of the casual visitor was that of middle
aged man, dressed in seedy frock coat in
all seasons of the year, with loose black
necktie Tapping in the wind, and black,
soft felt hat, shapeless with INDECENT wear
and grey with undisturbed dust. A stout
staff of orange wood, unadorned and with
out ferrule, assisted him in his walk,
though his figure was vigorous in spite Of
the slight stoop of a thoughtful man, and
common string bag completed the more
noticeable features of his appearance.
This bag, often containing a packet of
manuscript for the post on the journey in
to the township, usually carried homeward
q small parcel from the butchers or gro
GERS, and not infrequently book or two,
or a review from the library. He usually
walked in the road under the shade of the
trees skirting the pavement, apparently
preferring that portion of the thoroughfare
as being free from the jostling of other
pedestrians or the arrogant demands upon
the footpath made by the exigencies of re-
tail trade.
Though not long past the middle years
of life, 90 being yet post on his life s
journey invisible by half decade, he wore
a look of age. His face was pale and thin,
deep lines marking out clearly the heavy
brow, the deep set eyes, the sensitive
mouth, grey threads already blanching his
long dark hair about the temples. He had
the air of lonely man, taking but small
heed Of those he passed, exchanging no
more than a civil greeting with any one
n1.,;, lr
failed to stop and his face brighten as some
small child, who knew the heart of the
man, stood smiling in his path. Then
would Silas stop, and with shand quickly
dipping into the depths of his bag, ex-
claim, as if with novel inspiration
"Lollies? All, yes, let me see nowW And,
sure enough, lollies or fruit never failed
the expectant urchin.
His morning visit to the tradesmen, the
library or the postoffioe completed, he re-
turned to his home by the way he had
come.
1t was pleasantly situated little cot
tage, nestling among trees and shrubs on
a gentle slope, it's wide veranda command
ing an extensive and beautiful panorama
of the distant city, with its spires and
domes, the river with it's shipping, and the
still more remote horizon line of the ocean.
Here he lived placidly with his old house.
keeper, servant of his parents family,
as his sole companion and servant, nor did
he desire other society, and his needs were
few and of the simplest.
His most welcome companions were his
thoughts and his books, his occupations
the weaving of romances, essays and occa-
sonal verse, for all Of which he had o
ready market, and his sole recreation the
cultivation of his garden, in which flow
ers, fruit and vegetables grew abundantly
and supplied the needs of his neighbors as
well as his own.
That his thoughts were for the most
part pleasant enough was evident, for
Silas Seabrooke was Of a reflective but not
of brooding temperament His memory
contained much of happiness and one
great disillusion which he had long since
compelled to give up it's sting. He per-
mitted himself, while suffering secretly,
only to dwell upon the pleasanter aspects
of that emembrance, excluding all of pain
in loyalty to the woman who caused 1t,
his love for whom he permitted nothing
to impair.
The memory of his marriage, brief, i'll
advised, i'll fated, was to him full Of the
qualification of conquest-the capture Of
beautiful woman, queen among her sex
in her physical attributes, at the supreme
moment of her pride, when her beauty
dazzled and enslaved all who came within
its influence That he, Of all those wor-
shippers, was chosen as her husband was
pride to his simple soul, which, blind to
her real motives, never faded. Though
subsequent events might have disillu.
stoned him, he wrapped his heart about
with the memory of that brief time of per-
feet joy, the short year Of physical happi-
ness in the union with her perfection,
seeking to retain latter exceeding i'll,
little sweet of memory, and succeeding
In idealizing every word, every act of the
tragic comedy Of his disastrous marriage.
To the faithful Margaret, his old house.
keeper, that period of "blind infatuation,"
rs she called 1t, bore altogether another
aspect. She knew that the queenly beauty
Of this woman was her only wealth. In
all attributes but that of physical perfec-
ton she was deplorably deficient, and the
shrewd old woman guessed that the fame
achieved by Seabrooke and his popularity
with all grades of society was the sole
reason of her preference for the sober
minded young author, then at the first
flush Of his success. his name on every
body's lips.
Seabrooke's dream was as brief as 1t
was brilliant His wife passively accepted
his homage, basked in the sunshine Of his
social success and dragged him out Of his
literary dreams to society functions, In
which she was able to shine with increased
luster as the bride Of famous writer.
Silas, delighted in his wife's happiness,
found himself floating passively on the
ocean Of adulntion which his genius and
his wifes beauty called forth, but his hort
zon was not cloudless, for while the earn
ings of his past successes were rapidly d.
minishing under the strain Of her extrava-
canoe, he was producing no new work
with which to supply the future, for the
unHccustomed gayety Of his new life ut
terly untitled him and left him little lei
sure for his literary work.
The position soon grew grave. Econo-
mics became necessary. disillusion fol-
lowed, their fine house vas given up, and
the comparative seclusioh Of country
cottage completed the ruin Of his wifo's