The representative. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1893-1901, 1899-06-08
..Ruth'S Retrospect.

Today is my birthday. Birthdays are no
novelty to me nowadays, for they seem to
come with monotonous frequency; but this
one Is more of an event than usual, since
1t marks the beginning of a new decade Of
my existence.
1t is hard to realize, yet it must be true.
l am beginning to grow old, and it is a
melancholy fact that I found gray hair
this morning. / am not afraid of growing
old. shall not be decrepit for WHILE at
least; yet I am sorry to say good-by to 20.
l am sorry to think Of losing my youth
my free, strong, Independent youth. l am
not strong minded or advanced" but it is
pleasant to know that l. am dependent on
no one for my bread and butter. 1 have
taken care of myself for ten years-ten
happy years, on the whole-yet tonight,
On my Both birthday, 1 am sad and de-
pressed.
No one at the Office knew that it was my
birthday, and it passed unnoticed. No,
not quite that, for John and Maggie re-
membered it, and the children sent me lit
tie gifts. So, now, my thoughts have been
running on the past all day. and tonight.
alone in my sky parlor, Cup aloft," have
taken out this much-neglected little jour-
nal, and feel disposed, for some unexplain-
able reason, to glance back over my past
year, and count up my mercies.'
How slowly the birthdays used to come!
l remember how long the time seemed be-
fore was 10; and what a serious affair life
was till the 10th; and what a young lady
l felt when I put on my first long dress.
All that was in our dear old home in the
country, where John and grew up together
before things began to happen be-
fore John and Maggie were married and
came to live in Charleston before father
and mother died, and the old home was
sold for debt.
1t seems like another life to me looking
back on it; two separate lives. cut off from
each other by that time Of trouble John
was very good to me. He and Maggie would
like me to live with them altogether, but
1 could not be burden to him. l wanted
to support myself. So, much against his
will, John consented to my going to work.
The past 10 years have been busy ones. AS
a stenographer and typewriter earn my
own living; 1 am free and happy;
am spinster of 80, and not a bit ashamed
of it.
And yet-and yet-why do the words,
like a refrain, run through my thoughts
tonight? Why these foolish, ill-reg-
ulated thoughts lingering about Teddy
Mainwaring when have almost succeeded
in forgetting him? I have been thinking Of
him, in spite of myself. all day of his hand
some, boyish face and his eagerness on that
last evening.
/ have lived it all over again, that rainy
evening of my 10th birthday when Teddy
and I sat together by the fire and talked
over the future.
He was going out west. He was sure to
make a fortune in few years. 1t only
come back to me. He was so bright so
confident. l believe 1 remember every word
he said. I could write it down from mem
DRY, but will not. 1 remember that, girl
like, 1 laughed and leased him and pre-
tended not be believe his protestations, I'M
til I made him angry and then made it up,
and we parted that night, and I never
heard from him again, except one letter
written on the journey westward. He may
be dead, or he may be married and happy;
l do not know. l have tried to forget, be-
cause it is hard to live and remember.
think if he were dead we should have heard
He is living, perhaps, and prospecting, and
forgetting-and l am 80, and still single
for his sake.
l am no Mariana in a noted grange do
not let my floors get rusty or the blue fly
buzz in the wainscot, because he cometh
not There are better things to do with
life than to waste it in idle dreaming. Only
to my own heart and to this safe confidante
my seldom used journal, will 1 confess that
Teddy Mainwaring is the one love of my
life. .,a. ... ...,.
I have let my thoughts and
dreams get too rampant. I thought l could
"reminisce" quietly, but 1 cannot Instead
let me shut up this little book. What
choyv11 a. q
I shall leave it in my will that it must be
burned unread. l must look in the glass
and remorselessly remind myself that 1 am
Ruth Kenyon, spinster, aged 80. and that
though John tells me that could pass for
25, 1 must remember that he is a foolish
fond brother, and his judgment is partial and
not to be depended on.
l may as we'll finish this story of mine
which was begun as a retrospect, because
after all, it has a happy ending, and
have always liked stories to end happily in
books.
l think / have collected my scattered
senses sufficiently to write the rest now;
for the unexpected has happened since my
birthday night, when I began to count up
my mercies, which believe forgot to do
after all.
1t was a busy time which came after
ward. The winter rush began, and 1 had
no leisure to think of anything but my
work. of which l was glad. "reminiscences
are not conductive to calmness of spirit and
steady work.
One evening 1 met John coming to look
for me. Maggie was going to give the chill
dren an impromptu party, and wanted me
to come and help him.
1 promised to do so. l had nothing to
wear but an old crimson silk waist-I
couldn't risk my best raiment at children's
party. 1 have to think more about my
clothes than rich people do. So 1 put on
an old waist which is pretty and becom-
ing, if it is old, and had the qualification of
being informed by little Ellie that I looked
lovely, which was encouraging.
There were only about dozen children
Johns four and some little friends; but
they made noise enough for double the num-
Der.
We played games, and tried to enter into
the spirit of the occasion, while John and
Maggie were busy with the supper. We
were in the midst of an exciting game of
blind mans buff. 1 was blindfolded, and
trying wildly to catch one of the elusive
little figures that futtered about me like
airy spirites. 1 dare say it was a pretty
scene. Spectators could appreciate it's beauty