The Bamberg herald. [volume] (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, 1922-07-13

At Newport Jerry Decided That He
Wanted to Be Married Right Away.
brought rings and put them on?)
And again I say, and so we were
married.
But what did we know Of each
other?-the real other? True, we had
danced together, been swimming to-
gether, dined together, played tennis
together. But what did we really know
of each others whims and prejudices,
opinions and personal habits and
tastes? I knew, to WORD, what Jerry
would say about sunset; and he
knew, I fancy, what would say about
dreamy waltz song. But we didn't
either Of us know what the other
would say to a dinnerless home with
the cook gone. We were leaving q
good deal to be learned later on; but
we didn't think of that. Love that
is to last must be built upon the reali-
zation that troubles and trials and ser-
rows are sure to come, and that they
must be borne together-f one back S
not to break under the load. We were
entering into a contract, not for q
week, but, presumably, for lifetime
and a good deal may come to one
in a nfetime-not all Of it pleasant.
We had been brought up in two dis
tinctly different social environments,
but we didn't stop to think Of that. We
liked the same sunsets, and the same
make of car, and the same kind Of ice
cream; and we looked into each 9TH
er's eyes and thought we knew each
other-whereas we were really only
seeing the mirrored reflection OF our
selves.
And so we were married.
It was everything that was blissful
and delightful, Of course, at first. We
were still eating the ice-cream and ad-
miring the sunsets. had forgotten
that there were things other than sun
sets and ice-cream. suspect. I was
not twenty-one, remember, and my
feet fairly ached to dance. The whole
world was a show. Music, lights,
laughter-how I loved them all!
Then came the baby, Eunice, my
little girl; and with one touch OF her
tiny, clinging fingers, the whole world
Of sha1 the lights and music and
glare and glitter just faded all away
into nothingness, where it belonged.
As if anything counted, with her on
the other side of the scales!
I found out then-oh, I found out
lots Of things. You see, it wasn't that
way at all with Jerry. The lights and
music and the glitter and the sham
didn't fade away a mite, to him, when
Eunice came. In fact, sometimes 1t
seemed to me they just grew stronger,
if anything.
He didn't like it because l couldat
20 with him any more-to dances ana
things, I mean. he said the nurse
could take care Of Eunice. AS If I'd
leave my baby with any nurse that
ever lived, for any old dance! The
idea! But Jerry went. At first ne
stayed with me; but the baby cried,
and Jerry didn't like that. 1t made
hin, ,-r;+ahlo and neryous. until I was
glad to have him go.
I think it was about this time that
Jerry took up his painting again. 1
guess have forgotten to mention that
all through the first two years OF our
marriage, before the baby came, he
lust tended to me. He never painted
a single picture. But after Eunice
came
But, after all, what is the use OF
going over these last miserable years
like this? Eunice is Ave now. Her
father is the mest popular portrait
painter in the country. I ana almost
tempted to say that he Is the most
popular man, az well. All the old
charm and magnetism are there. Some
times I watch him (for, Of course, 1
do 20 out with him once in a whilsb
and always I think Of that first day L
saw him at college. Brilliant, polished,
witty-he still dominates every group
Of which he is a member. Men anu
women alike bow to his charm.
After all, 1 suspect that it's just that
Jerry still loves the ice-cream and sun
sets, and I don't. That's all. TO me
there's something more to life than
that-something higher, deeper, more
worth while. We haven't a taste IN
common, a thought in unison an
aspiration in harmony. 1 suspect-an
fact I know-that 1 get on MS nerves
lust as raspingly as he does on mine.
For that reason I'm sure he'll be glad
when he gets my letter-
But some way, I dread to tell
Mother
Well, it's finished. I've been about
L