The daily morning journal and courier., 1901-06-22
SHORT SUITS.

sands of signs I had my temper tried | dozen times day and was insuted l by host of things that yet were not
 in a form I could resent And then | there are always friends to tell you un- pleasant things, for your souls good. | Of course they only repeat the gossip l because it has put them in such fine glow of indignation that they can't | keep still They think such injustice
 is awful. They know how it must hurt you, and they realize how sincere and frank you are. Ugh! cats!"
 The widow was ordinarily a calm
 and self-possessed young woman, but, for once in a way, she was getting things off her mind and doing it thor oughly. The wrath of years was in her red cheeks and flashing eyes, and her fists were doubled up suggestively My husbands relatives-forty-s ond cousins-came to me and advised me, and cautioned me, and criticised me. They had heard such tales, and they feared I hadn't been prudent.
 wanted to ge abroad, but I mustn't travel alone. That wouldn't do at all. | l
 free to go with me and whom I would
 enjoy as a travelling companion My
 friends shook their heads and said it
 was a pity hadn't children to give re-
 spectability to my menage. I got des-
 perate and rented a child At last I
 took the small daughter. of a distant
 relative for year. I didn't like the
 youngster, but I thought perhaps she
 would remove the curse. I dragged her
 and her nurse and my maid around
 with me wherever I went, and was
 painfully domestic. No good at all
 So clever of me!
 T loved reading and study and went off into quiet corners with a book in- stead of fooling around with the crowd. So clever of me! Why did I always pretend to be reading? There must be some reason for my pose. Widows were so sly! I had had headaches. So interesting! That sort of thing al- ways appealed to men.
 ''The summer resorts were the worst places. l could bury myself, more or less, in town, but unluclxily I wasn't strong and well, and I was ordered about from one climate to another I l loathed the very idea of hotel I | used to go to my room often and cry, | just for sheer rage, and I'm not a cry i ing woman either. I didn't see any ] place for me. I couldn't get off the | earth, and yet people wouldn't let me alone. 1 grew hypersensitive and mor- bid, and felt shut out from a normal happy life.
 Finally l made up my mind to break loose altogether, to pay absolute y no attention to comment, to live my fife as l pleased, to consider nothing out my own inclination and conscience. After that I got along better. It isn't easy. I know I am utterly misunder- stood, but I was that before, and now, 1t least, I haven't the strain of trying please and do as I please, and, though don't please to do anything off color, ,ou couldn't make my world believe hat I have men friends and I don't lave the slightest feeling save friend 'hip for any of them, and am disgusted lnd bored if they fall in love with mo. The women believe I sit up nights con- irving schemes to fascinate and en- angle the creatures
 Even the young girls are horrid They say they have no chance against pretty widow. And the men are as ad as the women, only in another way. hey don't realize that they aren't worth an effort, fatuous egotists that hey are! If I get married it will be 1erely in order to stop being a widow nd get out of the comic supplement | oke, society novel siren position.
 There I've relieved my mind once. 'ou show gleams of intelligence and ou may realize that I'm honest. The ther women would say, So clever of er.' Just let me be an awful warning. his young widow business isn't all our fancy pictures it. You'd better be
 bachelor maid. ."-New York Sun.
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