Fitzgerald leader enterprise and press. (Fitzgerald, Ben Hill County, Ga.) 1921-1964, 1923-06-21

Eliot had been married seven years
and he was bored; not bored with
the temporary languOr that came over
him Of Sunday afternoon when he
wished for enough energy to go and
play golf-but actively bored so that
every action of his life as far as he
could see was ugly and lusterless. And
yet he loved his wife and his two good
little girls. Mary was pretty, good, de-
voted, and-thOugh his mind hesitated
little over the last step-lntelllgent
Her mind was as alert and vigorous
and quick to understand his thoughts
as 1t had been when, the autumn after
he left college, he had married her.
II was matrimOny, he told himself,
not Mary, that bored him; but he was
aware that the line was fine one.
Nevertheless he had been careful to
draw ii, when, the evening before Sam
Francis and he had been discussing
the advantages and disadvantages of
the married state. Sam was a bachelor.
He had come over to dine, and after
Nai'''i Aii' A"p lllNilNlS lltU EOHc I'd
moving picture. Mary was busy put
ting the children to bed. The picture,
as 1t happened, dealt with the life of
a young married couple; and though
all the walls were of rough plaster, all
the dOorways were arches, and all the
trees eucalyptus, breakfasts and babies
and bills seemed to be much the same
on one coast as on the other.
ITS dull picture" said Sam the
bachelor, lightly.
ITS a duh subject" said Eliot, the
married man, bitterly.
This opened the door to a discussion
none the less frank and intimate be-
cause 1t was carried on in generalltles.
Eliot began by quoting that terrible
sentence from Middlemarch 81 never
loved anyone well enough to put my
head into moose for them-it is n
moose you know" Sam agreed, but
wondered whether every man as he
grew older (Sam was twenty-siX) did
not want home of his own, and at
this point an irresistible desire for
self-axpression came over Eliot. He
remembered how he had once been
free-free not for evil things but for
adventures that were often nothing
more than intellectual-free to miss a
dozen suburban trains, If he wanted
TO finish book at the club-free to go
to the theater without asking himself
whether the money would not have
been better spent on the children's
Shoes--free to wander all night on the
bridges thinking of some futile para
doxical philosophy, without owing any
one an explanation of his irregular
hours-free even to give up his job II
1t became intolerable to him-free tC
hazard his future in any way he felt
inclined. This was the aspect of mat
rimony that no one explained to you
You were told about giving up your
club or your favorite cigar, and per
haps good tailor. but no one made II
clear that your privacy and your
leisure and your liberty to choose must
go, too.
sand to some people," Eliot said
judicially, as if he had nothing In
common with people like that, ITO some
people life becomes an intolerabe bore
when those things go. OF course that
does not apply to us. because Mary is
an exceptional woman"
"Oh, very," said Sam smiling to him
self in the darkness of the theater
over the fact that anyone could call
Mary exceptional.
The conversation made little impress.
sion on him, but in Eliot's mind 1t ere.
ated clear mental picture of his
situation that he could not forget.
Never, it seemed to him the next
morning at breakfast. had his two
daughters asked why and When Sc
often. Mary, neat and pretty at the
head of the table, smiled and poured
out coffee
When he came home that afternoon
note from Mary was lying on the
hall table-a not unusual occurrence
She had probably gone to the Garden
club. She was punctilious about let
ting him know her plans. 1t was the
afternoon of the children's dancing
class. The house was deserted. Eliot's
spirits rose. He would actually sill
down In his own sitting room and read
OR thinker do neither, without any
one saying, what have you been do
ing all day, dear" or Did you remem
Der the butter" or why must l, fa
there"
He did 1t. He clasped his hands be