The Meeker herald. [volume] (Meeker, Colo.) 1885-current, 1901-07-06

nV OF will never be success. my
friend"
Martha Dubreuil said this in tone
half railing and half jesting.
Pierre raised his head without an
swering and twitched nervously the
page blackened by ink. II was the
twentieth time at least that his wife
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 him
pay the cost OF publication. That was
an hour of ambitious dreams, long
since dissipated by the grim reality.
~ will amount to something in the
world" he had said resolutely. And
he believed it as did those who adj
mired him-whch is to say his mother,
his sister and some of his friends who
read the book. Martha, his wife. was
not one of these admirers. She told
him frankly again and again: "You
| will amount to nothing"
He had no answer to make to Mar.
tha's sneers. and he suffered keenly in
recalling the lucky days when they
walked together as lovers along paths
bordered by flowers and they made
vows to each other and kissed. "You
will be a great man, my darling" she
had said then.
Pierre believed that he had been
faithless in not keeping his promise OF
greatness made four years before
She had brought him her youth and
beauty, and he ought to have given her
in exchange the literary fame she had
expected, and have earned fortune
for her by his pen. But now she had
| abandoned those cherished dreams Of
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. Bui
we love each other. and that is enough.
He would not have cared for the plaue
its of the crowd II he had had the To-,
OF Martha. But she broke into laugh
ter that froze his feeble smile.
"Oh. yes, indeed. That's wei
enough. One can't live on love. Itisa
very we'll to say so in the novels yo
write-or count on writing-but in res
life things are different"
| When summer came they went tc
the seashore, Pierre securing an np
pointment as the resort correspondent
of newspaper. When he told her tha
they were going, she said: "Ah, yo'
are nice husband, after ALL" And shf
smiled, but the smile was given as in
aims.
At the scashore she was soon TIL
belle of the plsce, and people forge
about her husband, the reporter. wht
remained in the shade. Some men wers
with her much Of the time and gossil
linked her name with that of wealth.
idler. Pierre ventured to speak of il.
what of it?" she asked. 1.-THE ma,
nmuses me with his compliments. Yo,
know that am an honest woman
But need amusement"
Dubreuil's sufferlngs were intense.
The thought of that imbecile who
was ever at Murtha's side bruised his
heart. He wanted to strangle him il
the crowded ballroom; and longed
for duel. But the man was infiu-
entail and litternteur OF renown
A duel between them would have
been grotesque and useless.
The count dcigned to interest him
self little in Pierre.
LET US write piece, my young
friend" said he, "and will give you
recommendations. A man has talent,
when he has the sense to win . 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 hi
work table, while his wife, who hat
danced too much, slept peacefully
He rested his head on his hands and
thought sadly: Yes, Martha's Low.
Tor me has passed"
White paper was in front of him.
It was one of those silent nights that
tempt writer, night of stars and
silence.
81 will try to work." he unused.
Feverishly he took up his pen. He
wrote of things and thoughts sucl
as he had in his heart, speaking o
the happy past and the chagrin of the
present, Of charming memories and
the painful reality. All night he
worked upon his work o. hIe 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 ~
said he. colby. you know well that
I am capable Of nothing"