The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1899-08-27
!. NOT FOR PUBLICATION ]

OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES
GOV ARHAr . nfe~ repeated the
MAN. man to himself with al
\yN most a wrfthe. Making
bricks without straw, all
the year round I wfsh-there. wish to
God I'd never learned how TO wrirs,-'
And yet IL had paid him IN solid coin.
% far. One Of his minor dreams Vas
realised: the window Of his writing room
overlooked a suburban roadway along
which Earring wheels seldom ratified. he
had got away from the whirr and droae
Of the town. where his nerves had been
at q tension all day long He could COM
pose In peace. And yet he sat with the
bitter. Idle stare. clu,ching a dry pen
ihe door behind creaked. a woman
glided in on tiptoe- Don't start-its
only T. she WHISPERED
Don't start" He threw down the pen
without turning IT'S all starss-or the
strain Of expecting them I'm sick Of IL.
tell you-sick Of IL ALL
What Is the matterT She had
paused halfway. with hands together.
Cant you write?"
Write. I've nothing TO write I'm
drained dry. And I promised tragic
story"-with a half sneer-'for that So
ciety SUM- Tragic. What's the time
ut must be nearly s..
six? Dark in another hour-dusk
now. I've done nothing. And you-yeu
never attempt to help me. by SO much rs
. wordr'
Never help your she echoed. and re-
peated IL to herself II never help him,
But when have you asked such
thing? What good would be my ideas
"Oh. not much. Women seldom have
real ideas-they're fitting supericialiriesL
Still
$780, rS~ 49, ~~>~-.S .x~t-
but he knew she had only closed il. and
was still lowering behind him. He was
somewhat surprised, but would not turn.
vaguely conscious Of the sneers hollow
ness. Then
IT never help you" she repeated.
calmly. Would you like me 10 try7
Perhaps something has just come into
my mind. II is silly. maybe. as I tell IL:
but you, my husband, might make 10
clever and interesting. You say your
stories are always twaddle as you farst
set them down."
DO L? Well. what Is it?'' he ssid.
staring across at the opposite roofs.
This situation Is novel. Go on Never
mind as long as there Is anything at ali
In it,
There i.-there II . woman's heart In
good?"
"Ohr" he said. Her voice had tailed OF
N IL she had . real idea, but was afraid
Of the sheer. well. there usually is
that's one Of the component parts Of the
average story. Even humor IL the
brighter for tragedy lurking in the back
ground. you know. Anything in the
heart?-that's the point Yes: anything
in this heaPt?'
Another silence. Couldn't tell you
Just as IL came to me. Them she said.
I'm not clever enough to know.
It's more Of q sketch. perhaps. II
imagined two lovers. very dear lovers.
They got married. and there was q beau
tiful world before them. with such peace
at the end, II they knew, Make the man
an artist. He lived for his art The
girl-the girl was only Just q girl; she
lived for the man. She hung on 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 singing.
and moved always % softly. so that he
should never be disturbed at his work.
- You're not writing. Is 1t 90
silly?'
Go on" he whispered. There
there's nothing to write yet"
That went on for years. The man.
deeper and deeper In his work. never saw
that hts wife was changing. that the light
had gone out OF her eyes. He forgot all
he had meant to be-forgot after a time
even to kiss her: and the giri-she could
never bring herself to remind him.
80 En-? She still lived only for him.
but he never cared whas she wore. never
thought that her work might be hard In
It's little way. and that there are some
women for whom years of such silence
and loneliness spells death-or worse.
She was always crying at first. and
never dared to tell him why n he did not
see for himself. and kept out Of hts way
so that his mind should not be spoiled
for work. And he--say that he thought
II was something else, and spoke harshIy
and sneered. and at last got 30 that he
lived In q world Of his own. and wouldn't
open his door when-when ne knew that
her heart was bursting outside. 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
mans outward stare was a. n IL would
never again relax. She went on a Iit:le
faster. her voice taking a thriIi-just as
though his silence implied that there
might be real dramatic possibilities In
her small inspiration.
II think my husband couid-yes, The
world IL used TO seeing the man grow
Indifferent. and the woman cold and pale:
but you-you might take the tragedy as
Il Is within the four walls. and make
IL live and throb In there. You might
put IL that at first the mans mistake
was In always straining forward TO his
goal. forgetting that the happies. time
II now-forgetting how. when he looks
at last he will not find Just the same