Rensselaer Republican, Volume 17, Number 22, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 February 1885 — Wanted to Drown His Sorrows. [ARTICLE]

Wanted to Drown His Sorrows.

A dark look of despair was on liis countenance as he came slowly into the office and sat down upon a convenient fauteuil. There was a sort of wild glare in his eye, which might to the causal Observer indicate the* presence of pn overpowering and deep-seated sorrow, or an undigested dinner. “Is this the ediatorial room?” “Precisely,” answered the religious editor. “The place where so much rope is given to soaring intellects ?” 0 “Exactly.” “And do you know that autumn is here ?” “There has been a slight prejudice that way.” “That the crimson leaves have been mournfully floating from the trees, and sighed as they left the naked branches. That, like memories of the past, they have charmed the senses for a moment, and then sunk down in a melancholy oblivion ?” “I guess so. ” “The cadence of the autumn wind has been sorrowful to my mind. It sounds like sweet strains of music from a distance; something like standing outside of a theatre without a ticket and listening to the orchestra inside.” “Well?” “I wanted to tell you. My life is something like this autumn. Through the halls of memory there comes a whisper which tells me that summer Jras flown, and that a faint odor of her lovely flowers is borne upon the filmy wings of bitter recollection. Did you ever look upon a package of old letters, untouched for years, yellowed with age, and through the musty pages catch a faint scent of mignonet that brought a thought of dainty fingers which traced the words of a letter to you in the long ago?” “Hardly.” ■— “I have. My life has been steeped in misfortune, and I have tried to drown the bitter thoughts in the flowing bowl. Such is my purpose now. J wish to stay the uprising flood of thoughts which only brings unconquerable sorrow. But I have only five cents. A glass of whiskey costs ten. "Will you give me a nickel ?” The office-steps are steep, and, when he landed at the bottom, the bitter recollection of a past grief had given place to a present and t painful sorrow.— Rochester Democrat.