The Virginia enterprise. [volume] (Virginia, St. Louis County, Minn.) 1893-19??, 1899-10-13

Inc NAcA or the nlHN 10Y the uNWh or
day.
-Charlottr Fisk Bates In Century
NOT FOR PUBLICATION.
what a life! repeated the man to
himself with almost Il writhr. MAX
ing bricks without straw, all the ycal
round. wish there, wish to God IL
never learned how to wiitc:'
And yet it had paid him in solid cuin
SO far One of his minor dreams was
realized; the window of his writing room
o>,rookcd 4 suburban roadway along
which j:trrinE whs els seldom ratified; hr
had yet away from the whirr and drOne
CT the town. where his nerves had been
1T tension all day long. lie could
compose in peace. And yet he sat with
the bitter, idle stare. clutching dry pen
Thr door behind crtaked; Il woman
ylided in ON tiptoc. Don't start-it =
only l." she whispered
Don't s1a,t..' lie threw down the
pen without turning. It's all starts
or the strain Of expecting them. I'm sick
of it, tell you-sick Of it all"
NV hat is the natter: She had
paused half way, with hands together.
Cant you write!'
Write! I've nothing to write. I'm
drained dry. And l promised ii tragic
stcry with IL half snecr-"for that So
cirty Sun. Tragic! What's the timc?'
1T must l~ nearly s.
''SiX? Dark in another hour--dusk
now: I've done n*::;;l;;l::. And you
you never attempt to hep me. by so much
as a word!"'
peateL it to herself. Il never help him:
But when have YOU asked such
Il thing: What good would be my
ideaS:
oh, not mach. Women seldom have
real ideaS-they're lifting superhcialities.
\ long silence. The door creaked
again, but he knew she had only closed it
and WAS still lowering behind him. He
was somewhat surprised but would not
turn, vaguely conscious of the sneers
hollcwncss. Then
l never help YOU, she repeated, calm
~. Would you like me to try?-per-
hapS something has just come into my
mind. 1t is silly, maybe, as tell it; but
you-m: husband, might make it clever
and mtrrt sting. You say your stories
"le diN aHS t"auule us YOU nfSl SET tnell
down.
do 1? Well, what is it, he said,
staring across at the opposite roofs.
This situation is novel. Go on. Never
mind as long as there is anything at all
i'll it,
There is-there is IL woman'S heart in
It, | think, she whispered. lis that any
yOul!'
oh" he said. Her voice had tailed
! no, had
afraid Of the sheer. well, there usually
iS-that's one Of the component parts of
the average story. Even humor is the
brighter for tragedy lurking in the back
ground. you know. Anything in the
hea,tE that's the point. Yes; anything
i'll this hearth
Another silence. "Couldn't I tell you
II III not clever enough to know. =
IS more Of sketch, perhaps. IL
imagined two lovers, very dear lovers
They got married. and there was beau
tlful world before them. with such pea CO
at the end, il they knew! Make the
man an artist He lived for his art.
The girl girl was only just girl
sh" lived for the man. She hung OH his
every. word, YOU might say: she prayed
for. his success when he was never there
to hear, thought for him in ways that he
would never Know. and checked her sing
ing, and moved always so softly, so that
he should never be disturbed at his
work. You're not writing. Is
it 50 Slly?'
Go on" he whispered. 'There-there'
nothing to write YETI
That went on for years. The man.
deeper and deeper in his work, never
saw that his wife was changing, that the
light had gone out Of her eyes He for
got all he had meant to be-forgot after
4 time even to kiss her; and the girl
she could never bring herself to remind
him Ell? She still lived only
for him. but he never cared what she
wore, never thought that her work might
be hard in its little way, and that there
a:2 some women for whom years of such
si!rcce and loneliness spells death-or
worse. She was always crying at first,
and never dared to tell him why if he
did not see for himself, and kept out of
his way so that his mind should not be
spoiled for work. And he-say that he
harshly and sncered. and ut last got so
that he lived III world of his own, and
wouldn't open his door when-when he
knew that her heart was bursting out
side, longing for one kind word again.
* Or-or-something like that
Could you begin anything with that?'
No answer. She could not see, but the
l.
never again relax. She went Oh a little
faster. her voice taking a thrill-just as
though his silence implied that there
might be real dramatic possibilities in
her small inspiration.
Il think my husband could-yes! The
world is used to seeing the man grow in
different. and the woman cold and pale;
but you-yOu might take the tragedy as
it is within the four walls, and make it
live and throb in there. You might put
it that at first the mans mistake was in
always straining forward to his goal, for
getting how, when he looks at last he
will not find just the same laughing girl
as he married. Often he left
her. we will say: he wanted cheerful
faces and relaxation after his work, and
the wife was only like a ghost creeping
about the house. And so at last, for hev
the only alternative to broken heart
was a heart hardened to stone. And oil
she had so loved him-had SO determined
always to look her brightest and best fer
till the end, as it often does: but there
came blow--one blow more than she
could bear. Well suppose--we'n suppose
that one day the wife, somehow or other,
heard him talking to a friend. The
friend was n,iiet; he had asked: Whats
the matter wlth-wth her? All the 70
ma1ce gone that you used to talk about :?
Make it-makc it that she held her
br 'ath for the answer, even thcH--rven
then; that even then she was h,ngrrine
to put her arms all around him, and tell
him. oh, no. it was not gone! And sup
posing she heard him say: Her! Pooh
take no notice of her-always the same
Wish to God sometimes I'd never mar
ried-what with the expenses and the
miseries ut home. Can't make her out
not like ether women. Given it up long
ago: Don't you ever marry, old mani!
And supposing the wife stood
and cried to God to take her on the spot
and that God did not answer, and that
ut last-at last, when something seemed
as if il would snap in her bran-she
crept into her husbands study and took
out the pistol that he kept in his desk
and put it to her forehead, and-and al:
most pulled the trigger =
Wouldn't a paper accept story like
that?'
Still no answer The man had craned
still further forward, his hands gripping
the desk his face gray in the dusk. his
stare widened. 1t iooked-it somehow
looked as if he feared for his life to look
around. in fear Of hand waiting for his
throat. 1t was not his wife talking. 1t