Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-05-15
Two Buckets in q Well.
BY NATHANIEL P. WILLIS.

tNathaniel Parker Willis, lsoe-leeI. was
IN American poet and Journalist author OF
You cannot lower two buckets in the
bame well at the same time. That was
why pretty Fanny Bellairs failed to
marry Philip Ballister. He was set on
being q painter, and had already shown
considerable talent, when, afraid to face
poverty Gas perhaps she might nave
had to do as his wife,, she persuaded
him to burn his brushes and enter busi-
ness in partnership with his brother.
That meant delaying their marriage five
wears most Of which he would have TO
SPEND abroad-but 1t meant a pretty
fair chance Of prosperity And Fanny
said shed had enough of the pinch Of
want in her own childhood, without
putting up with it longer, and without
possibly forcing their children to put
mp with it.
so Philip Ballister put his small in
heritance into buSineSS-and he did
prosper. He spent the five years abroad
and came back on the appointed day, q
comparatively well-to-do young man OF
30, ready to marry Fanny, who had
woman of %. Fanny. when she saw
the suave gentleman that he had be-
come, fell in love with him tempestu-
o,lsly-and timidly. But she went
ahead with her plans, building their
home, furnishing 1t and all. She even
reproduced his old studio and furnished
It exactly as 1t was when he had left
It after renouncing art as his life work
The night before their wedding Fan
nv led Philip to his room, where she
left him alone with his thoughts. Her
thoughts were tumultuous with love; so
when he did not appear next morning
she sought his room with alarm. The
bachelor bed had not been slept in
Philip was gone, and she found this
letter:
ct have followed, up to this hour, my
fair girl in the path you have marked
out for me. 1t has brought me back. in
this chamber. to the point from which
! started under your guidance. and II
&c had brought me back unchanged-f
it had restored me my energy. my hope
and INV prospect Of fame, I Should pray
Heaven that 1t would also give me back
my love and be content-more than
eontent-if 1t gave me back also my
poverty.
surroundings of my boyish dreams OF
glory have made my heart bitter. They
have given form and voice to vague
unhappiness, which has haunted me
through all these absent years-years
OF QeSTdQulS puESulbS dIi0 WdSoCo POW-
ers-and it now impels me from you,
kind and lovely as you are, with an
aversion I cannot control.
81 cannot forgive you. You have
thvarted my destiny. You have extin-
e,Iished with sordid cares a lamp with
In me that might by this time have
ahone through the world. And what
am I since your wishes are accom-
plished? Enriched In pocket and bank
rupt In happiness and self-respect.
with a heart sick and brain ach-
ing for distinction, have come to an
unhonored standstill at 80! am
successful business man, and in this
character I shall probably die. Gould
I begin to be a painter now, say you?
Alas, my knowledge Of the art Is too
great for patience with the slow hand.
] could not draw line without despair.
The plant fingers and the plastic mind
must keep pace to make progress in art.
The tide ebbed from me at the accursed
burning of my pencils and brushes, by
your pitiless hand, and from that hour
j have felt hope receding.
Gould be happy with you, stranded
here in ignoble idleness, and owing to
you the loss of my whole venture of
opportunity? No, Fanny, surely no!
IT would not be unnecessarily harsh.
! am sensible of your affection and
constancy. have deferred this ex-
PLANTATION unwisely till the time and
place make IL seem more cruel. You