The Washington times., 1909-04-13
CHAPTER ".

and felt I would understand as no
one else could.
1 hardly knew her-she looked so
white and frail i'm her heavy crepe. l
took her upstairs at once. made her lie
down, and had Mary bring some tea.
But she pushed the tea aside and began
walking up and down the room
''No-no-I cant resti I can't be quiet
Il want to talki II will help me more
than anything else.
"Oh, 1 know what you think-what
every one thinks-that he was a brute
that he drank-that he was untrue TO
me! You wonder why I should grieve
so. I presume some people think it an
affectation-my grief, I mean. GOdi If
IT only were! But I loved him-I loved
him. In spite of all his dissipations he
was never unkind to me. He was fond
of mo in HIS way-his selfish. careless
way. But / would rather have had
what little he gave me than the most
loyal, faithful devotion of the noblest
man on earthi
Can you reason about love? II he
had beat me 1 would stiIl have loved
him. But my love never blinded me
don't think that 1 saw all his coarse
ness, all his weakness; never for
moment idealized him. I knew him for
what he was-but I loved him.
And now at night I feel that I must
get up and go to his grave and with my
bare hands dig down to the coffin and
lie there with him. He always hated TO
be alone-he always wanted company,
life. gaiety. And now he is lying there
aione-alone in that dark, silent grave
yard. Oh, there are times when feel
] must go to him-that he is calling me
that 1 must get up out of bed and go
70 him and stay with nimY'
My face was now as white as hers
felt If she did not stop L would faint.
But I made no effort to quiet her.
knew It would be useless-that she
must wear herself out.
'.he was so big and strong-so full of
life and vitality Oh. how I loved his
great, strong body-his vigorous man
hood-his physical self. His muscles
were like iron, and yet his skin was
as soft and white as a baby's. used to
say it was like yelvet-white velvet oven
iron. oh, his body-his milkwh4te
body"
1 don't think ! heard any more. 1t
seemed 10 me the room was full of
women. 1 could hear the swish of trail
ing skirts-the air seemed charged with
the feel Of women. Of flowing hair, Of
heaving breasts, OF the anguished love
Of womanhood.
At length from sheer exhaustion she
threw herself upon the couch 1 did
not try TO comfort her-I knew too well
the cheapness, the futlity Of words
After q while she said family: Il think
] can sleep now. 1t is always like this.
After l wear myself out there comes
sense almost of peace-it is the only
peace ] have. can't explain it, but II
always comes After these violent out
bursts 1 feel as though 1 had been
GruEged-a soothing. quieting drug"
I stopped over and kissed her. Don't
gay anything more-try not to arouse
yourself again-sleep II you can"
darkened the room and left her. She
slept quietly for over an hour. I tried
10 persuade her to stay all night But
she wanted TO so back home-to their
country home where he died. Said she
had been IN town two nights. and she
wanted TO get back-she felt nearer him
out there.
August Sd.
..rbe incessant sadness of life" That
rbrase comes TO me so often now.
have been standing at the window
watching the steady stream Of traffic in
which there are so many notes OF mis-
cry A wagon filed with freshly
slaughtered calves. their legs, now only
bloody stumps. pro:ruding stif1y from
under the burlap covering. Ana 1
think of the terror in Tire soft eyes OF
those helpless animals as they were
driven pitilessly to the AK Another
wagon piled high with SLATED boxes fun
of huddIing chickens. Poor frightened
things. on their way to be killed, strain
inc their necks through the Stats for a
breath Of air. The stolid indifference Of
the driver as he whips up the Jaded
horse that draws them. The clang OF
the police patrol as IT dashes by, hag-
gard man with bandaged head in
side.
1 turned from the window sick at
heart. The fncessant sadness Of life!
The incessant sadness Of lifei
August attn.
There is a clearinghouse across the
street from us-the only one m this
block. where almost every one owns
their own property. Every evening now,
since the weather is 50 warm, the steps
OF that house are fun of people. They
brin, out grass mats and sofa pillows
aud sit on the steps and stone balus-
trades. the cigars Of the men glowing
among the light dresses Of the women.
I think I watch them with something
like envy. they seem so happy and So
ciable I'm an easy, unconventional way.
the sound Of their laughter comes re-
peatedly through my open windows.
Now and then a couple will leave the
rest and stroll bareheaded down the
street.
Tonight they were singing: one of
them had a mandolin. They began with
some new popular airs and ended with
a number of old-fashioned sangs-''My y
Old Kentucky Home Ben Bolt and
annie Laurie" As 1 sat there by the
window In my lonely, silent house. those
old. familiar songs, the summer night
for me there was an infinite melancholy
about It all. All my loneliness and heart
hunger seemed intensified.
The air grew more and more close
and sultry. Then came a distant NUT
tering Of thunder. and then some large
raindrOps The songs ceased and there
were little shrieIIs of laughter as the
group across the street hurried into the
house.
Now II is raining I'm torrents--a sum-
mer heat-rain. can hear IL beating