Brookings weekly register. (Brookings, Brookings County, S.D.) 1898-1903, 1898-12-22

CD0 Anguish, GD6 uutOlu MISERY anu tu6
utter isolation" he paused few Sec
onds, and then added, "the desolation
of my life. :"
Again he sighed. 1t was quick anu
sharp, as if some breaking cord had
smothered 1t. His hands came from his
pockets and fell nerveless on his knees.
Sigh followed sigh in quick succession.
The pinches in his cheeks and at the
corners of his eyes and mouth grew
smaller. The flutes were lessening be-
tween his eyes. His long, bony fingers
dovetailed themselves with each other,
and his head dropped forward until his
chin rested on his breast.
"Oh, cruel, cruel woman!" Water
trickled from the corners of his eyes.
His respiration was long and heavy. He
rose from his chair like an old man,
and as he walked to the crayon his step
was unsteady. He took out his hand
kerchief not to rub the glass as before,
but to wipe something from his eyes.
'It is fading. Line after line is dis
appearing, little by little, but con.
stantly going. In few more years all
the outlines of figures will be gone. 1t
is better so. Would that you were gone
now. cannot hide you away, and I
would that all were effaced. The Fanny
of them and the Fanny of % years ago
were not the same. I have room for
you, but none for her.
II sent her ont Of my heart with
bound that Christmas eve. She crept
back, but would not let her stay. She
came for admission at odd times. At
night, when was aching for sleep; in
the morning when I awoke when in
sickness, and always when in darkness
| and alone. she has knocked for admit
tance, but I have had but one answer
No ROOM All the avenues to my heart
are closed against her. Trifling, perfidb-
ious womanl hate her You were in
| nocent, pure, gentle, trustful and truth
full. You had not learned of the world.
The clover blossoms, the wild flowers
| and myself were your loves. You were
| artless, sincere, innocent and sweet as
the birds which sang in the branches Of
the elms and the chestnuts. And had
no thought which was not for you or
of you. My boyish fancy sent out ships
| on every sea, all laden for you, and
brought in ships from every port, each
| freighted for you. The future was
panorama which passed before me, with
you in every scene. On the evening of
your departure you wept yourself to
sleep in my arms, and dried your tears
with my hot lips. You went, and was
-, -
in the song of the birds, nor beauty and
fragrance in flowers. She for whom
they sang and for whom they bloomed
could not hear or see them, and the
| melody Of the one and the beauty and
| the fragrance of the other were gone.
still remember the weary years of her
absence, and still fresher is the recol-
lection of my visit to her. You, the
! girl, was lost, and she, the woman, was
| in your stead. She threw her arms
AROUND my neck and kissed me, then
blushed and turned away as though she
| had committed shameful act. AS
met her day after day 1 felt that she
| had drifted knew not where, but from
me. should have returned to my home
and left her to the world with which
she was in love, but could not. Iloved
her as l did you when filled your
| apron with chestnuts or waded for the
buttercup and the cowslip or climbed
the rock for the wild honeysuckle !;
loved her as did you when freighted
all ships for you. felt that could not
live without her. and therefore had to
tell the story.
"The fatal evening came. I can hear
her laugh of derision even now. For
years it rang in my ears, and in my
heart too. 1t was like the laugh of a
maniac. 1t came near making one Of
me. Had / not cast her out should
have gone to the madhouse. The fire
left my heart and took possession of my
brain, and for days and weeks was all
flame. The love l had for you turned to
hate for her, and tonight for you there
is love; for her, nothing but hate
fierce, consuming hate When my love
for her took wings, love for all but my
self went with it. have revenged my
self ON the world, which stole her from
home. Dead to human suffering, will
continue to wiring sighs and groans and
tears and blood from them. Today
chuckled when that old man wept. He
cried like a babe that is drowning itself
in tears. His words sounded like sighs
hot from his heart. He had been born
in the house, and all his long years had
| lived under its roof. There had been
births and deaths in it for 70 years
Babes had come and gone. The walls
had echoed to the laughter Of children
and to the music of marriage BELLS
They had heard the lamentations of the
living over the loved dead, and now
but three were left, and one Of those
would soon be gone, as they were wait
ing a summons for her. Could he not
remain until she departed? Then she
and he would be alone, and they, too
would like to die under the old roof.
They would feel at home dying there.
"Ha, ha! I listened to his broken
sentences. and then demanded the