Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1898-12-14
ETRAGEDY
5 OR
): ! COMEDY? /?
III FLORENCE a. SMITH.


!. ! !. !: !: : 3. ] ]:
e u SG 2Sg George Arbuth-
m AW not pretty we'll.
4, SSSSSAEWsN. Il had known
a&GsaS#SlAS$ him, in fact, for
ISMN9SS5EG& two years-sver
aSsTAS5sf7hS since he had
s~s9ZHssAs( been married,
IrNFUITTNHpSE.So and considered
. y" him q rising
fellow IN, the literary world. He had
not done anything very great, but his
work was distinctly promising, and
his. name was gradually making itself
known. Unluckily he had married
the wrong woman.
But my friend was not like some
men-he did not whine and cry, he
made the best Of it, though Phebus
knows, he'had enough to put up with.
ut was not bad temper!e It was jeal-
lonsy-bitter, mean, incessant jealousy
THAT grudged him even his literary
fame. Agatha Arbuthnot was one of
those little, pale blue-eyed women,
with spiteful tongue and narrow
heart, who have ruined the career of
many sensitive man. She hated to
hear her husbands praises sounded
in her ears.
One afternoon Agatha was slanging
Arbuthnot because some women who
lad happened to call the day before
had gushed, and told her how FORUM
ate she was to be the wife. Of such o
rising genius. Her face was crimson
with anger, and her voice was very
shrill as she mimicked her callers.
Dear Mrs. Arbuthnot! How
rsoud you must be of your clever
4 has band He's quite ageIliu ius.E7Ir
2 ! envy you living with the man who
can write such exquisite storiesl"
Then she stamped her foot, and
turned saYagely on Arbuthnot.
s'Clever! Exquisite! A genius! 1
never a.;.TS :ay genius in your silly
tales. Beastly rot, call them. l
wish to goodness I'd married Harry
, Jenkins instead of you. At any rate,
people wouldn't have praised him up
Just in order to run me down. I know
( what they mean. OF course I'm
stupid, and brainless and silly-not
good enough for you to wipe your
boots ON
And then Arbuthnot did the most
:. sensible thing possible. He walked
out of the dining room, and locked
!. himself up in his study. Agatha, on
seeing the lines of his mouth more
firmly set than usual, and guessing
nothing of the tempest that surged in
kismind, Immediately went off into q
!, violent. fit of Mysteries.
Georges den wasn't much Of
t.'study.". merely smoke-begrimed
den, furnished with secondhand
bureau, two or three chairs and some
shelves of books. Agatha called it
Georges sulking room," but I knew
it was the only haven of refuge Ar
buthnot could find in his own house.
From that day Arbuthnot progressed
swiftlysthrough the book that was to
make his name. This was to be his
masterpiece, wherein he would show
his best of brain and heart; and, as
(, the weeks rolled on and the novel
neared its end, Arbuthnot realized his
work was good, and in that knowledge
could afford to live, and did live,
without love and sympathy.
I. In truth, he needed every support
that work and philosophy could give
man. Agatha's conduct grew daily
more sh-ew;sh and violent, and her
tongue less fastidious in its choice of
words.
ESQ you've taken to locking your
self up in your sinking room," she
cried one day, when Arbuthnot had
perforce been compelled to answer her
heavy banging on his study door.
TITS nice thing when q husband
comes to lock himself up from his
wife! I suppose my society's not
good enough for such clever man as
you
Arbuthnot saw that she was in one
of her paroxysms of rage, and resolved
to control his own feelings.
SCI wanted to finish some work, I"
he said, calmly, looking at the floor
Uttered with loose sheets of paper.
And this room is hardly fit for O lady's
society. You see, I have scarcely a
chair that is unoccupied with books"
eyes, it's horrid hole," said
Agatha, curtly; ''but you men who
write are more like pigs than human
beings. Just look at the dust on that
desk; it's shameful. And Sarah says
you won't let hel. touch your papers.
I'm ashamed of having such dirty
hole in my house; I'll come and dust
it myself tomorrow.
At these words Arbuthnot lost his
philosophical self-control.
SET must ask you not to touch the
rapers on my desk" he said, hastily.
s.I allow Sarah to brush and dust
everything in the room but my desk,
and that attend to myself. 1 beg
your pardon if speak hastily said
Arbuthnot, ruefully contemplating
some sheets of paper which Agatha
was fast crumbling into balls; "but
Eve nearly finished my book, and
these sheets of paper are rather valu-
able
Agatha threw the balls onto the
table.
..And this book is to make you
fsmoass'' she asked, with bitter con-