The Seattle star. [volume] (Seattle, Wash.) 1899-1947, 1917-07-04
CONFESSIONS
OF A Wife
DREAMS FORM THE JOYS
OF LIFE

have been reading n story. 1T
tie book. that has made me think
more than any story have read In
long time. II ~ called Peter 10
betAou and. Just because Il takes
sou So far from the realities OF life
into the realm ~ conjecture and
Imagination. Il has made a very
strong appeal to me.
I wonder. little book. II women
20 greater or less degree do not
iesl the one great tragedy 81 life
u that human beings are given a
conception Of. or rather a power Of
concciylng. ideals that no one can
I3ako realities.
Life seems monotonous because
cur imagination can picture adven.
lures that are not or this earth.
The only love We know falls short
OF what We dream Il might be
cannot understand Il. little
hook II doesn't seem quite fair
that we should be given this won.
derful Imagination. which can car.
~ some OF us very far into the
realms OF ideality and make be
l.eye. while by no possible mortal
effort can we bring out these
dreams into the rugged light Of
reality.
Potter Ibbetson and Mimsy lived
fer 40 years In beautiful world
Of the mind They met only In the
land OF dreams. but each night
when they closed their eyes In
sleep they broke the locks OF the
supernatural and theif spirits rush.
cd together. alihO the body ~ one
vas stretched on n lonely cot In
prison cell and the other was sur.
rounded by nli the luxury and par.
aphernRlia OF the great lady--the
Duchess OF Towers.
Their waking hours were the
hours Of unreallty--only when
sleep closed their eyes 20 mundane
things did they really live
Sometimes. think. little book.
We are all like thls-the things we
do not tell any one. the things we
Ere almost afraid 10 confess 10 our.
selves. are the things which mean
most 10 rs. They compose the life !
Nc long to lead. while the life we |
are living chains US to all the sor.
d'd reality and deadly monotony Of |
everyday existence.
Would II be possible for any |
woman TO live with Dick and 40 |
ihru all my tiny tragedies most OF /
them. you know. little book. have |
been tragedies OF the soul-my
lines OF storm and stress. when
have been ill--my intervals OF JOY,
when ! was looking for the coming
81 Sonny and still cling 10 the ex.
iernals OF life. TO be more interest
ID in the way a hand Of bridge IL
played than the story OF F1ossie
Smith told me by Paula Newton7
Perhaps have not had enough
10 do-perhaps. had been poor
you'd have had no time for these
ien-communings. this self.analysis.
And yet. little book. / can't help
thinking / am better woman than
he one who Just goes on her I'M
] mixing way because she has been
90 actively engaged--not in doing
light. but IN doing the convention.
lily obvlous-to find time 10 listen
10 the voice of any tempter. This
ioman does not know. She is In.
ioceutly virtuous: consequently
she is always walking on the Very
'dge Of the precipice Of knowl-
edge OF herself--a self she does not
know exists.
There. little book. I think 7 have
told you enough OF my very inner.
most thoughts for one day-and
that day the one before Dick and
start for Il three-month trip in
California.
1T viii be a second honeymoon.
dear heart" Dick said to me last
! eht. as ! sat beside the couch on
which he was lying.
His Illness has burned out much
That was unlovable in his face. and
think of It. little book, yesterday |
found him reading Walter Pater.
Never by any possibility would |
have believed that Dick would care
Tor Pater. You see, little book. the
words Of the old song are true
After years Of life together.
After fair and stormy weather,
After travel In far lands,
After touch Of welded hands.
Why thus Joined, why ever met.
II we must be-
Strangers yet.
Little book, for the next three