Democratic Sentinel, Volume 19, Number 34, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 August 1895 — A HOLIDAY TRAGEDY. [ARTICLE]

A HOLIDAY TRAGEDY.

All my life I had been —well, not exactly a woman hater, bat a firm believer in the idea that man is the locd of creation, and that woman is aot an absolute necessity. For ■aany years it was my proud boast that I was able to dispense with feminine aid and yet live a very enjoysbte life, as, with clockwork regularity, 1 went from my bachelor lodgings to business each morning, returning in the afternoon and spending the evening at the club or some jriaee of amusement. The idea of having a lady companion in my rambles never entered my head. True, my landlady, good old soul, prepared my meals and cleaned my rooms, but that was because I had not time to do it myself, and a man servant was beyond my means. But to all else I dispensed with woman’s aid. Boot cleaning, sewing buttons on, lighting the fire, etc., were all done with my own hands —nay, at a pinch, I have even washed a pocket handkerchief.

I desired to stand forth as a living example of the original Adam and a proof of the superfluity of the modern Eve. But my misguided companions refused to profit by my teachings or to follow my example. One by one they fell under female influence, one by one they married, and then —I cut them dead. Ah, me! "Those free Bohemian days were happy ones, as year after year I pursued way adopted course in spite of the continual falling off of my comrades. Then came a time when my circle of acquaintances had decreased so considerably that I began to feel lonely. Bachelor chums were more difficult to find than ever. To loneliness succeeded melancholy, and I grew miserable. One friend, to whom I laid bare my woes, said: “You keep to yourself too much. What you ought to do is to lodge with some family where there are two or three grown up daughters. "They would wake you up a bit.” This, to me, the hitherto ideal advocate of an Eveless Eden ! And yet, After the advice had been tendered several times, I began to think that such a change might be beneficial. Such a course need not involve the rendering up of my tenets; but, as woman still formed a part of the world, she might at least contribute to my amusement. So, after very serious consideration, I decided te seek fresh apartments, with light society thrown in. Now my troubles commenced. I could not make the direct inquiry. “Have you any grown up daughters?” £9 ( generally viewed the rooms, listening to the landlady’s verbiage, ;ti*e rent, and then casually asked, ‘“Have you any children?” and the 'reply would be, ‘‘Yes, ‘four,’ ‘five,’ or ‘six,’” (as the case might be}; “the eldest is 16 years old and the ■youngest 2 months. But they are as good as gold and never make a bit of inoise.’ The numberless journeys I made And the many desultory conversations I listened to were all to no purpose. No one appeared to possess grown up daughters—the eldest was always 10. Just when I was about to abandon any search of fortune—or was it >fate?—led me to Myrtle Villa, Paradiie Gardens, Upper Dulwich. The •floor was opened by a vision of loveliness, faultlessly dressed, and with iwight blue eyes and golden hair. “Nowly married,” thought I, “well, Ifeere at least the eldest won’t be 10!” ■She invited me in, and then disappeared; a middle aged lady entering directly after, we proceeded to discuss terms. Then came the inevit.able inquiry as to children. “J have two grown up daughters, 'the younger of whom opened the door for you.”

At last! Need I say that, within a week, I was installed in Myrtle Villa? The landlady (a widow) was a genial, homely woman,,and the youngest daughter. Annie, aged 25, i hare already described, but the other daughter, Julia, did not impress me favorably- She was neither good looking nor pleasing, and, without being exactly bad tempered, always insisted on having her own wayI now seemed to be in a new world. My boots bore a brilliant luster each waorning without my aid, and my •Uppers were laid ready for me in the •oreoing, and as for lending me a needle and cotton —the idea!—if I would only leave them ouiside they -would only be too happy. I no longer needed to seek relaxation at the club atter the labors of •the day. Julia played the piano well (her only accomplishment), while Annie sang divinely, and thus the evenings nassed all too quickly. Male acquaintances they did not seem to possess —yet stay, there was one—a -Mr. Malcolm .whose name I frequently heard mentioned, but as his calls i were always made in the daytime, I ■ever saw him . I had rapidly passed into that condition of mind which nosed a feeling of jealousy on his aeoMint, so one dav I questioned iny fiwidlady on the subject. he's a very old fHend of ours.

Once we thought he would have proposed to Julia, but nothing came of it.” What a relief! Only Julia! So time went pleasantly on, and then—how can I confess it? —my lifelong creed was thrown to the winds, my proud ambition humbled in the dust, and I became a willing slave to the sex I had so long despised and ignored. My only thought now was, how and in what words 1 should beseech my darling Annie to become my wife. Time after time I was on the point of speaking, but Julia always turned up at the critical moment. One evening Julia announced that a week theuce she had an engagement to play at a concert. Then burßtupon me a brilliant inspiration. I purchased two stall tickets for the Lyceum for that same evening, and, making pretense that I had them given to me, I persuaded AnDie to promise to accompany me. This time Julia would not be able to intrude, and I should know my fate. In two months time I should be taking my summer holiday, which would fit in just nicely for the honeymoon. On the eventful day I hastened homeward with a queer fluttering in my heart and a flower spray for Annie in my hat. Julia opened the door, and hardly permitted me to enter before she informed me that Annie had been out in the hot sun, and had been obliged to go to bed with a very bad sick headache. My fluttering heart gave one huge bound and then seemed to standstill. However, to disguise my feelings, I said: “I am sorry; and you have to play at the concert?” “No,” she replied, ‘‘the concert has been postponed.” ‘‘Then may I beg the pleasure of your company? I did not ask you before because of the concert engagement.” ‘‘Thanks. I shall enjoy it immensely.” What a miserable failure that evening proved to be ! Ido not even know what the play was called. I was thinking all the time of my poor, sick darling, and not of the acting or the woman who sat by my side wearing the flower spray that was meant for Annie.

The words were still unspoken when my holidays arrived, and, tearing myself away from the two sisters, who stood at the gate and waved their handkerchiefs as long as I remained in sight, it was with no feelings of joyful anticipation that I betook myself to Hastings for rest and recreation. Rest! Where could I find it? Not on the parade or pier amidst hundreds of, couples promenading, as I had pictured Annie and myself doing; not on the beach where the Ethiopian musicians were eternally playing “Annie Laurie,” “Sweet Annie Rooney” and “Annie, Dear, I’m Tailed Away.” For a whole week I wandered aimlessly hither and thither. Then I could stand it no longer. So I wrote a long letter commencing “Darling,” and pouring out the impassioned, pent up love that comes butonce in a man’s lifetime. I besought and beseeched her to take pity upon mo, or my lifeless body should serge in the billows that beat relentlessly on the rocks of Beachy Head.

When I had finished, I happened to catch sight of a photograph which I had purchased the previous day, representing one of the yachts preparing to start on her morning trip, with my own figure in a prominent position in the bows. “Ah,” thought I, “I’ll send that to Julia If it were possible I had now less rest than before, night or day, while waiting for the answer. Rising in the morning with haggard looks and burning brow, the other boarders would remark that the sea air did not seem to agree with me, while under the mask of supreme indifference there raged within me the fiercest volcano that ever burned in the heart of man. At last the reply came,and, bounding up to the privacy of my own room, and trembling fingers I tore open the envelope which hid from me—life or death? “Dearest, lam your’s forever. I cannot say your proposal was unexpected, for I have felt that you could mean nothing less, ever since that evening when you so openly expressed your preference for me by taking me to the theater”What! Whew! Where! ! ! I looked at the signature—“ Julia.” Oh, Heavens! I saw it all. I had placed them in {the wrong envelopes, and sent the letter to Julia and the photograph to Annie! Howl raged and fumed and tore my hair, until at last, in sheer exhaustion, I sank into a chair and endeavored to finish reading the letter. “Annie thanks you very much for photo, and she desires me to tell you that yesterday Mr. Malcomb proposed to her and was accepted. We will have the two weddings on the same day. Won’t that be nice, dear ?"

Nice? This was the last straw. Nice, indeed, for me to be married to a woman I did not care for, and at the same time to see the one I loved given to another man 1 I cannot remember what I did for the next hour or two beyond cursing my foolishness and swearing I wouldn’t marry Julia. Then, when I became calmer, I saw an action for breach of promise looming. I thought of all my hard earned savings of years being swept away by a sympathetic jury to heal Julia’s broken heart. There was no escape for me. She had my letter, which simply commenced “Darling,” and as no name was mentioned in it from beginning to end. was it possible that any body of intelligent men could be brought to believe that I Intended it for Annie when I addressed the envelope to Julia? No, no. I must go through with it—l would marry Julia. Yes, and I would teach her that man is the lord of creation, and that woman 13 but a helpmate, and not an equal, and so, in my married life, triumphantly assert those principles which I had held so long. Julia marrie 1 me at the same time and place, as Annie became Mrs. Malcolm. 1 now spend my evenings endeavoring to solve a difficult problem, and that is, why do thtey call woman the weaker sex? The average price of parrots in South America is 10 cents.