Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1902-10-04

drawn to her, Then II was, when the
itself through him, that thoughts, feel
ings, affections for Mary possessed
him, II was then, when the flow
pounded on the surf of his heart, he
cried to himself, This Is life, life"
Victor was so situated MS only to be
| able to see Mary In the evening. There
was always an inclination to remain
late with her, which he never yielded
TO. He had always gone before the
rush of the midnight high tide. For
this reason he had not spoken of the
love that possessed him, had not had n
chance to pour 1t out In rush of words
In the flow. The cbb brought him n
timidity that was painful, There was
an ever-present fear that she would
slip away from him in the undertow.
One day he came to her In the morn.
ing, 1t was holiday. AS he fingered
he felt the coming of the midday flow,
Their conversation grew exceedingly
bright. In the waiting for the highest
tide he was overwhelmed with the
thought that he must tell Mary of the
love he had for her, that consumed
him. He broke out:
"Mary-darllng you are so sweet
so sweet--you are so grand-so grand.
have something have been going
to tell you-tell you. dear" then he
stopped. The ebb was on. He felt 1t.
He could get no farther. He STAN.
mered.
e-ebb-Mary-I will tell you at
another time"
Several weeks passed IT was not
told. 1t was the month Of March. at
the time OF the vernal equinox. Great
storms ragged on the ocean. The tides
Were running high.
One night, in the worst fury of the
storm, Victor was In his laboratory,
busy at work. He was experimenting.
The element he had been hunting for
had turned up. He had made several
successful analyses. 1t seemed to him
that he almost understood the secret
that had been GLIDING him. 1t was not
yet 10 o'clock. 1t was more than two
hours until the ebb. In that time the
mystery would be known, the problem
solved, and the world would credit him
with discovery.
The flow rushing on in great surges
brought other inspirations. There was
Mary. How sweet love was, how
glorious! 1t was almost his. Would
it ever be his? Life without 1t was a
dead, empty thing. 1t must be his.
Away out came two great waves to
ward the shore of the soul of Victor
Irvine. They rolled, tossed and pitched
as they moved in. On one perched the
secret of chemistry that he had been
diligently searching for. On the other
love rode.
The two waves were in fearful strug-
gle the one with the other. They raised
their high heads and broke into angry
feathery caps. They chased each
other. The contest was wild, TEN,
pestuous one. At last, with roar,
they went together and, breaking, flew
far up the beach, love riding triumph
antly in.
1t was then that Victor fed through
the rain to the home of the woman he
loved. Higher, greater swells were
rising out on the waters, following
each other to the shore. AS onward
they came he poured out to the woman
the tale Of his life, the misery of his
loneliness. its pathetic strangeness,
the sweetness Of the love he bore her,
the wealth Of happiness there was in
it. Before the ebb came he had the
answer of the woman. 1t was salts
factory There was no regret for the
lost secret of the laboratory.
AS the moons waXed and waned the |
secret came back to the inmate of a
happy home. 1t returned as jetsam
of that night Of the storm.-New York
News