Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1904-06-15
Dick looked down with kindly, hui

Dick looked down with kindly, hui
morous eyes. s
"Never mind" he consoled. "'Angels
are bright still, though the brightest
fell
ooh, please don't quote Macbeth"
She got up hastily and walked to the
window. If she could only. tell Dick
all about it. But of course she mustn't.
This sacrifice, like most of the sacri-
fees women make for men, must be
kept dark secret. The pathetic part
about it being in this case, as in most
similar cases, that the man, had he
known, would have been quick to repu-
date the sacrifice. But not knowing.
1t so CHANGED that in the long days that
followed big. kind-hearted Dick had
the role of selfish brute thrust upon
him and watched the restless light take
possession of his little wife's hereto
fore happy brown eyes, without for a
moment suspecting that his supposed
sensltlveness was at the bottom of all
her bother. He imagined, as any other
sane man would have done, that she had
met with some discouraging rebuff that
had turned her heart against her favor
lite fad. But he scarcely expected her
heart to stay turned and he certainly
did not approve of that jaded air. For
Helen was suffering the same sensa-
ton that induced Macbeth to COM
plain:
''Methought heard a voice cry sleep
no more"
Had not she, too, murdered her best
friend? That stanch ally that had
borne with her the brunt Of so many
battles? Small wonder that she could
not sleep. Ghosts ever walk by night.
Yet she had no thought of giving over
the attempt to keep the ghost under
ground. She shook her head at the
free glad thoughts that came clamor-
ing for perpetuation and shut her eyes
against pen-pictures praying to be put
on paper. With all the might of -reso-
luton she closed her heart against the
tempting intoxication of that exquisite
self-abandonment-"The clean, strong
joy of creating once known is
agony to forego.
But the incessan+ fight wearied her,
and it was with last flicker of her old
whimsical fun that she put up the
prayer:
With some sweet oblivious anti
dote cleanse the stuffed bosom of that
perilous stuff which weighs upon the
heart"
And presently the plot began to
thicken for the cook took hand, Hell
en- having found sheets and shams
sorry substitute for studies, went in We
hemently for housekeeping, prowling
about the pantry. fdgeting over closet
shelves and cleaning of cutlery, con-
cocting incredible cakes to be cried
over IN private. but blamed upon cook
in public-the upshot being, that cook,
exasperated, gave notice.
1t was at this unlucky crisis that
Dick, noting the worried wrinkles upon
the brow that was once serene and
thoughtful, put down bis coffee with
the query:
Don't you think. Helen, that you
should do less fancy work and-er-
read more?"
Il can't" she replied briefly.
Dick took prospective glance at a
long line of reading-aloud-even and
felt that the time had come to set aside
delicacy of feeling and dread of intrud-
ing.
"Why can't you?" he insisted. and
poor. tormented Helen answered tart
ly:
because I'm letting I dare not wait
upon l would like the poor cat j. the
adage'!"
why. Helen!"
"Oh, didn't mean to be sharp. T."
Dick laid a hand on either shoulder
and looked down steadily into her
troubled eyes.
do you know" he said gently, II
used 10 have little wife that scrubbed
ont all her frets and worries. and she
was such a jolly little wife," He took
a pad of white paper from his pocket,
also fountain pen and beautifully
sharpened lead pencil. and laid them
side by side upon the ta-
BILE. Then he kissed her between her
bothered brown eyes and went out
quickly
Nlen sank back in her chair with
an uncertain little laugh.
"Why. he'd rather I did," From
some odd corner memory brought the
line: 1--WE scotched the snake, not
killed it," and she laughed exultingly.
Il haven't even scotched it, Then
suddenly sitting up. But. o Lord Osi-
ris, whose feet are upon the crocodiles.
what title that would be: "A Scotched
Snake!'"
When Dick came home that evening
he found flushed cheeks and roughened
hair, flying pencil and scattered sheets
of manuscript; and settled himself
contentedly to pipe and paper murmur-
ing tenderly:
" Lay on Macduff. and damned be
him who first cries Hold, enough!" ,"