The Sunday telegram. [volume] (Clarksburg, W. Va.) 1914-1927, 1916-01-23

The following is one Of the prize
Ginning letters in a big contest held
blythe Pictorial Review and published
in their February issue. We quote as
follows:
Shelter, fire, a chicken in the pot
and woman crouched on the hearth
stirring it-what more could a man
want or get, no matter how hard he
worked?" says Sam in the opening
chapters of lover Paradise Ridge"
That is Just exactly what most men
work, wait and hope for. All Of life is
summed up in that pregnant sentence
a sentence that is uncanny in its wis
dom. Most of us get shelter fire and
food, but woman crouched on the
hearth'-ah, that is another story.
] was engaged to the girl / married
for. ten years. Margaret declared pos
lively nothing could induce her to be-
gin our life together until our home
was paid for and furnished according
to her desire. She was perfectly
right, concede. During the period
of waiting i cherished dream OF
"a woman crouched on the hearth" a
dream OF Riddles to cuddle before a
fire OF leaping flames, a dream OF
home In its fullest, truest, sweetest
sense. Well for me had my dream.
The long engagement was a severe
trial to me and | lost something
faith, think-maybe confidence in
myself. ] don't know just what 1t
was, but / have never regained it
MY wife is a woman Of much force
Of character and have always adj
mired her keen business ability, but
at the time of our marriage begged
her to give up her position in an Of
flee. She was a woman Of superb
physical health, unlimited energy and
vim, and mental effort was as neces-
sary to her well being as food. / was
not selfish enough to wish to stifle
or suppress her splendid capabilities.
so when she decided to keep her po-
sition i acquiesced. A mistake on my
part. True, we enjoyed comforts and
luxuries on our combined income that
would have been lacking had we de-
pended on my salary alone, but the
serious disadvantages connected with
Margaret's working more than bal
anced them in my opinion. OF course,
] am old fashioned and narrow in my
view. Margaret has told me often
enough my prejudices belong to
Noah's time. / desired to be father;
/ longed for a son. Next year, dear,
next year. Be patient"
Next year" has never come.
She became addicted to the work
habit and no drug user was ever
clutched closer in his vice than Mar
garet has been caught in the whirl Of
business life. Possessing unusual ex-
ecutive ability her advancement has
been rapid; her salary dwarfs mine.
Evening after evening as we have
sat in the library the only sound PEN
etrating the stiffness that has en-
veloped us like a heavy cloak has
been the steady click of her type
writer-for Margaret is not tired
business woman" She has sacrificed
all social diversion to her passion for
work; callers at our place are rare
as pearls in restaurant oysters. |
have looked a thousand times at hen
trim linen clad back, then at the
hearth-a cherries gas log-and
fancied saw frilly, lacey back
bent over tousled head, and heard
a soft Groom. The only "croon" is the
maddening click Of the typewriter.
"a woman crouched on the hearth"
Yes-in magazine illustrations.
l have missed the best there is in
life. Home, wife, children, compan-
ionship, sympathy, loye-all the
things a normal man Graves are denied
me. have the first two--naughty but
empty words. With bitter realization
know that my rosy dreams are new
er to come true. Margaret declares
crisply, there is no place for sentl-
mental dreamers in this busy, work a
day world. Is she right? have ceased
spending my evenings at home. Ny
wife is glad to be allowed to work in
quiet. She has told me frankly moro
than once when | weakly interrupted
her with caress, that ! annoyed her
and requested me to refrain from
"silliness." She has never had tc
complain on that score since.
L feel resentment toward her, q
jealousy of her success, and lately