Evening journal. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1888-1932, 1899-05-26
AS THE WORLD SEES.

y y
old. No husking bee or apple pairing was
deemed a success if he did not appear. More
than one village belle, by indications Of the
eye, if not Of the tongue, had given him to
understand that she would have no serious
objections 10 joining her lot with his own.
But the young man was nice to everybody,
with perhaps a slight prejudice in favor Of in
conspicuous and plain-ooking young wom-
en-, who were generally neglected He
showed not the slightest symptoms of fall
ing in love, however. His big kind heart
just took in all the forlorn ones. lie gave
them the best time that he could.
One fall there came to this little town a
small, plain-featured little girl, whom the
school trustees had engaged to teach in a
white-panted country schoolhouse about
three miles from the village. She was the
daughter of a minister and had had abso-
lutely no experience in school-teaching
They took her to board at the young mans
home. She was homesick and forlorn when
she came and discouraged at trying to make
( the big boys behave after she began her
| labors
| She walked every morning and night the
three miles to and from school until the
worry Of teaching and the unusual amount
of exercise brought about a serious illness.
! At length came long weeks when she was
too feeble TO be moved and too discouraged
to care whether she lived or died. Then the
! bg-hearted young man showed how tender.
and how kind he could be. He fed cracked
ice to her when her mouth parched with
fever. He brought her the earliest spring
violets from the fields he sat by her and
road aloud to her from the magazines.
He lifted her into the oldfashioned chaise
for her first venture out of doors one balmy
spring morning, and before the fat old sor-
rel drew them slowly back to the low, ram
bling frame house he hadlasled her to marry
him and she had timidly consented.
Well they were married. and now that the
lines on his face have cut their way in much
deeper than on the April morning twenty
years ago, and there is gray about his tenn
pies; now, though the little woman is plain
or in feature and even less tasteful in dress
than she was then, there is no welded pair
of whom people would be so apt to say:
) "lhey lived happily ever afterward."
That showed that the dear public has no
, power to pierce through externas, and that,
as a matter Of fact, people really know moth
ing about it, For several years they lived
in absolute happiness on her part, and con-
tentment, at least, on his. Children two and
three were born to them. The man made
strides in his profession, devoted himself
to it., and finally removed to St. Louis, the
larger field for an ambitious law-worker,
4 built a home on what is now one OF the
boulevards, and became a city gentleman in
r all respects.
!, He was successful from a business point
Of view His children were growing were
we'll andfhappy, and evinced decided tenden-
ces to turn out neither fools nor repro
bates His wife wore silk and diamonds
all paid for-kept his house neat, or hei
servants did looked after his creature com
\ forts properly, and adored him.
\ OF course he was happy, you say, and the
average man would be, ought to be, under
> the same circumstances.
: Yes, perhaps the average man, but moi
= this one.
He was utterly miserable. Why? BE
r cause he'd outgrown his wife. Because
n when he had labored at his law, read thu
e best literature, increased his appreciation o
h all things good and beautiful in every way
z she had staid behind. She did the bes
y that she could, poor little woman, but sh'
s, simply was not capable of ever making her
e self over into a clever, even an appreciative
woman. She was, is, and always will be, in
b significant.
y The man gave up his struggle after awhile
r. "Catlin has a new Corot, which h
" bought through a New York dealer not lon
"a ago" the man would remark cheerlully a
" dinner as he carved the family roast. II
n took me out to see it this afternoon. Won
derful, think, and quite his best piece O
n work. A landscape at twilight, you know
Is with all the power Of his gray-greens and
Is His wife regarded him dreamiy.
"You will have to order more coal tC
morrow, William. The man told me thi
morning that we viii be entirely out in
a week or so il this cold weather continues
~ Clara, please pass the celery"
I'M There is no more description Of painting
III that evening.
y Then, Of course, the inevitable happen
lie meets a woman who, on first acQuain
ance. attracts him by reason of her woman
az illness. combined with her intelligence. 81
IA is everything that is lovely-dignhed
y. presence, clever of speech, sympathetic
va word and manner, tactful in her convers
ol ton, and capable of drawing the best fro
W. him.
49, He realizes, after meeting her half dozc
:, times, that he loves her.
~ He is a boy no longer, but a reasonir
y man Of forty, who has never before met an
- talked with a woman whom he could regar
'i- as companion. lie thinks the matter ov'
il calmly logically, and makes up his min
-. that there are two things to be done; ste
seeing this dear, congenial woman and j
OF crease his tenderness toward his wife. III
.a- latter must never, never know. His sorro
ah he must bear alone.
lie has viii of iron After the first fer
struggle with self, the first mad desire to
U.s. something, he knows not what-he co
ed quers.
he There are no more meetings with the wor
cr an he loves, and many are his chances to 81
b. her in ways that society would sanctio
Is- and about which there could be no possih
"a gossip-art exhibitions, evening reception
ne and the like.
nd He avoids them all. He has thrown hin
er self into his profession with increased exc
ar ton. He thanks God daily for his absorbii
ID work It is his only recreation and yet
,n- The wife sat in her drawing-room late q
TAI other afternoon, chatting with a caller. II
front door banged and in he walked.
bowed cordially to the visitor, and the
stepping mp 20 his wife, tipped her thin J
y, tie chin up with his finger and kissed her.