The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1901-07-11

Martha Dubreuil said this in a ton,
half railing and half TESTING.
Pierre raised his head without en-
swering and twitched nervously thu
page blackened by ink, 1t was tn,
twentieth time at least that his wifi
had made such remarks, and what
was worse, he realized sorrowfully
that she spoke the truth.
Once he had written book of which
he had been proud. novel Launched
timidly by publisher who made hin
pay the cost of publication. That wa
an hour of ambitious dreams, LONG
since dissipated by the grim reality.
Il will amount to something in tn,
world" he had said resolutely. AnC
he believed it as did those who ad
mireG him-which is to say his mother
his sister and some of his friends whC
read the book. Martha, his wife, wa
not one of these admirers. She tolC
him frankly again and again: "io,
will amount 10 nothing"
He had no answer to make to Mar
tha's sneers. and he suffered keenly il
recalling the lucky days when they
walked together as lovers along paths
bordered by flowers and they made
vows to each other and kissed. "Iol
will oe great man. my darling" she
had said then.
Pierre believed that he had beer
faithless in not keeping his promise o,
greatness made four years before
She had brought him her youth anC
beauty. and he ought to have given hel
in exchange the literary fame she hac
expected. and have earned fortune
for her by his pen. But now she hat
abandoned those cherished dreams 0.
reflected glory.
The poor fellow recalled the happy
days that had preceded their marriage
and the delights of their companion
ship during their honeymoon. And he
answered to her taunt:
$50 much the worse, my dear. But
we love each other. and that is enough
He would not have cared for the plaud
its of the crowd if he had had the love
of Martha. But she broke into laugh
ter that froze his feeble smile.
"Oh, yes, indeed That's well
enough. One can't live on love. 1t is all
very well to say so in the novels you
write-or count on writing-but in real
life things are different"
When summer came they went to
the seashore, Pierre securing an APP
pointment as the resort correspondent
of newspaper. When he told her that
they were going, she said: "Ah, you
are nice husband. after ALL" And she
smiled, but the smile was given as in
aims.
At the seashore she was soon the
belle of the place, and people forgot
about her husband, the reporter, who
remained in the shade. Some men were
with her much of the time, and gossip
linked her name with that of wealthy
idler. Pierre ventured to speak of it
What of ito" she asked The man
amuses me with his compliments. You
know that l am an honest woman
But l need amusement"
Dubreuil's sufferings were intense.
The thought of that imbecile who
heart. He wanted to strangle him in
the crowded balIroom; and longed
for a duel. But the man was infiu-
entail and a litterateur of renown.
A duel between them would have
been grotesque and useless.
The count deigned to interest him
self little in Pierre.
"Let us write a piece. my young
friend" said he, land | will give YOU
recommendations A man has talent,
when he has the sense to win a wife
as pretty as yours"
Eyes, Pierre, why haven't you some
thing on hand?' said his wife.
One evening when he was in the
little room, he seated himself at his
work table, while his wife, who had
danced too much, slept peacefully.
He rested his head on his hands and
thought sadly: Eyes, Martha's love
for me has passed"
White paper was in front of him.
1t was one of those silent nights that
tempt writer, a night of stars and
silence
II will try to work. he unused.
Feverishly he took up his pen. He
wrote of things and thoughts such
as he had in his heart, speaking of
the happy past and the chagrin of the
present, of charming memories and
the painful reality. All night he
worked upon his work of life and
emotion.
up already, Pierre?" exclaimed
Martha when she opened her pretty
eyes in the morning. 'At what are
you working, my early bird?'
what difference does it make ~
sslo he. eoldly- You know we'll thas
! am CAPABLE OF nofhinvr