The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1904-12-18

0f "a
IF Whom il is so easy and so trlte TO
ea,, mat their souls are too big Tor
IT. hodies-and wondering.
,,rettv woman is too satisfying d
tit for. reflection, but a plain one
oarriae story in every one of the lines
1Tbose presence lets her face slip by
one in the crowd.
The woman in point had the pltlIul
sir of being hopelessly passee, white
yet retaining some lntahglple allIip .Iot
Of youth. One felt that she had not
Yer awakened to her years; that, al
Subconsciously, despite the long left
vanities and dreams and hopes, she
was vet young enough to keep sun III
the background the possibility or d
over.
And then it was that l wondered
mad she ever had one, that ceased 10
note the pale and sunken cheeks, the
style-dead bang of colorless hair, the
long hands, thin to transparency
which made them a mass of blue veins,
the nervous fingers with their two
rings that one knew had been bought
for her in her school days, ana
thought about her lover.
Did he exist? Did the pattern OF
his influence run through the Wooi OF
memories behind those pale blue eyes
looking out from their dark circles:
And If he ever was, why had he not
claimed his spoil and reclaimed a
woman? He must be middle aged
now. this imaginary lover, In ali
probability comfortably fat-ano
married! Yet he was not old as she
was old who sat there smiling-Wlth
that battling air Of youth. Did he ever
think of her? Did she know his chill
dren-and did she often think OF
them?
There was somewhat of tragedy
about this little woman that she did
not suspect remotely, the pity OF a
life that had been warped-that dld
not know.
Yet il was plain TO see that the Wo-
man herself had no such thoughts as
those indicated above. Pain with her,
If there had been pain, had long slice
ceased TO burn within that gentle
breast. She had turned to religion,
nv little woman of the white and
transparent hands; and, turned away
from the human dream that had
eaten out the best of her heart. the
wings of her soul were beating fu-
tilely i'm response to spiritual amnl-
ton that was beyond her strength
So that one could see but all too plain
Nv that it was not for long before the
soul would conquer and the spirit Iree
itself for the final enigmatic test.
But. in the meantime, faint yet in
sistent. lurked about her person that
ndefinable suggestion of youth. Ana
IT'S presence brought the equivocal
thought of the pity of its being there.
Had she married when one felt she
ought TO have done so, there would
have been no longer a suggestion or
vouth. She would have been frankly
middle aged, but one felt that her
hands would not have been trans
Darent. The smile that now strug-
gled UP by mere bravery from the
turned down corners of her mouth
and glinted the sad seriousness OF ner
eyes would have been the patent put
habitual one of wife and mother that
had caught from the cheerIuihGSS Oh
self-sacrifice personal joy. Her myers
would long since have out-groWn the
SCHOOLGIRL rings and the gold chain
at her wrist would have been ABOUT
the arm of a lassie young enough TO
think her mother rich for the simple
gift. And the wings of her soul, now
so wildly beating in their fragile
confines, would have been dropped 10
warm a brood. Her brain, too, for
she was q woman her little world calls
"sn1art''-would have been less &C
tive but more sufficient. Mixed
with the intuition of love it would
have left to nature the slow settle
ment of world problems and busled
itself in hOmely things with the SUP
lime confidence of motherhood
which the instinct of ages cloaks
against mistakes. She would nave
been a woman instead of an idea
And this pity grew, as the tenuous
"Reminiscences. of her youth threw
against the blank wall of her life the
sharp outlines of the picture of the
woman that might, that ought to have
been-the woman who had been lost
TO a world whose greatest need for
all time is more of the sex.
And the fact that should have eased
the. situation, the fact that she did
not know, seemed strangely enough
not the least of the pathos of her
plight. A busy body world is some
times very ready to get very tender
with misfortune that is openly con-
Scious of it's woes, but ii takes cheer
full endurance to task. And when the
unfortunate is oblivious and happy
the world snorts at the spectacle and
becomes miserable at the sufferers
lack of retrospective analysis. So it was
that as | regarded the little woman
who had mis-read the rules of the
game, my sorrow turned into an irri-
tation that was distinctly akin to an
ger.
w nat GlSnL nave yOu' yOu aus III oiS
cheerful little sparrow without a mate
to sit there and smile out of your tired
eyes2 Are you aware of the failure
you have been, of the sorrows to which
you might lay claim? What have
you to do with optimism or with glad
ness! Look what you have missed,
consider your limitations What are
you hoping for and working for? Your
head aches-deny it if you can! You
are trying TO do good--what can you
do? You are wasting away. You have
no strength, no future. Platter not
yourself that you can help the world
you haven't even helped yourself!
What do you mean by looking young?
1t is Grass impertinence. You are old,
do you realize it, old! And you have
not even understood the rules of the
game You are even now wasting
your time-as Omar says, the bird
has little way to fiutter. Still there is
time, though you have made wreck
of your life. Pause, quit the beating
of your wings! Rest a while, if you
can do nothing else. Joy is gone from
you in spite of your false happiness
Stop! Think-and be miserable:
But the little woman is wise in
her foolish way. She has found the
anidOte for thought and for m sery.