Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1898-01-29
The Story Teller.
ENGLISHMAN AND DANE.
Romance That Grew Out Of Their
Meeting In a Reading Room.
From the New York Commercial Advertiser

From the New York Commercial Advertiser.
A curious friendship, which led up
to a still more curious Christmas pres
ent, sprang up between two frequent
ers of the reading room at Cooper
Union a year or two ago. Both were
in the habit of spending the better
part of every evening there, and both
had developed preference for par
ticular table. At first it was the
location of that table alone which
attracted them, but in course of time
thew became accustomed to each 9TH
er's company, and although perfect
strangers, they felt acquainted, and as
though they met by appointment.
One was stout old Englishman,
with Aorid, stern face-one of those
surly faces that usually 60 together
with an honest and kindly heart. he
was a well-read mechanic and bach
elor, and having, or pretending to
have, an aversion for women and chill
dren, he passed his leisure hours either
in the seclusion of his little hall bed
room or at Cooper Institute. The
other was dry-faced, beardless Dane,
of 40, with blue eyes of pellucid clear
ness, and long faxen locks, which
adhered close to his head and neck.
1t was the childish and yet penetrating
look of those crystalline eyes OF his
which first cast spell over the grutf-
looking Englishman. He could not
help glancing at them again and again,
and as he tried to read his book or
magazine he seemed to feel their soft,
appealing gaze upon himself. At one
moment he was on the verge OF a
quarrel, but no sooner had he met the
Danes eye than instead of resentment
he felt like asking if he could not be
of service to him.
As to the Scandinavian, the crusty
look of his neighbor, far from repell-
ing, had a peculiar sort of glamour for
him. And so the two passed two or
three hours at the same table SIX
nights in the week until they came to
greet each other, at first with slight
nod, then with more demonstrative
one, and finally with bland "good
evening"
One night as they sat reading, the
Dane banded the Englishman note
which read as follows:
"Dear Sir-My heart is full tonight,
and I wish to speak to some good man.
Will you be my listener? I like you
without knowing who you are; but so
much the better. Would you mind
having a cup of coffee with me?"
"With pleasure" was the English
mans written reply.
Some five minutes later they were
seated at a marble table in one of the
Vienna cafes on Second avenue.
The Dane spoke English with per-
feet fuency, and although his pronun-
citation was labored and often incor-
rect, his grammar was irreproachable.
II beg of you, don't set me down
for a crank" he began. 81 am tired
of being called that"
"Whether you are one or not, I'm
not goin' to call you names, sir"
grumbled the Englishnan.
GAIL right, then. This is my day OF
misery. Just a year ago Fate dealt
me blow-or, rather, played me a
trick-under which I have been
squirming and writhing ever since.
Today is the anniversary of an incl
dent which may, after all, drive me
mad. By the way, when you know
me better you may find that I am no
crank as yet, at least. Well,
then, it is love story I am going to
recount to you-a love story of which
1 am the unhappy hero. 1t is not
amusing-a hero and yet defeated and
miserable? Well, some three years
ago fell in love with a poor but ac-
complished Swedish girl in Copen-
hagen. Have you ever been in love,
sir ?"
81 beg your pardon, sir. l meant
no offense. As to myself, I had been
in love dozen times before / met the
Swedish young lady, and when l saw
that 1 was infatuated with her l
thought it was something like my
previous romances-a passion of week
or a month, after which there is moth
ing left but smoke, smoke, smoke,
as the hero of one of Turgenef's novels
puts it. Are you fond of Turgenetf?
But excuse my impertinent questions.
Well, I had made up my mind to be
q bachelor. You wish to'know why?
Because 1 was the most forlorn fool In
creation. In the first place, l had
taken it into my head that I had been
born to fill the universe with new
sort of sunshine-with the dazzling
rays of my poetry. Accordingly, for
me to marry and be bothered with a
wife and children and the sordid de-
tails of family life would be a crime
against the interest Of humanity, don't
YOU know. In the second place, l
should get tired of my wife before the
honeymoon was half over, and mar
riage would be eternal torture. L
drew my conclusions-do you know
from what? From the brevity OF my
former passions. was an idiot; the
greatest on earth"
"No, you WEREN'T" the Englishman
interrupted him