Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 7, Number 32, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 3 February 1877 — Page 6

lispsi^ii

PAPER

Or had I hinted, ort under the stars. That I kn«*w a story worth hearing, Lingering to put up the pasture bais,

Nor waited to do the shearing.

were

wmrn

THE MAIL

FOR 'I IIK

PEOPLE.

TUB: FA RMERXS LESSON.

If I hal ioll her In tho sr ring The olil, oldTitoiy. briefly, When sparrow aiu robin began to King,

And tne plowing \vus over, cbJellj

But ha#te makes waste, and theMorj sweet. I reasoned, will keep through the sowing. Till I drop the c#m, and plant the wneat,

And give them a chance for growing.

Had I even told the tale In June, Wheu the wind through the grass was blowing, Instead of thinking it rather too soon,

JAnd waiting till after the mowing!

Now the bar* is full, and so is the bin, But I've grown wis.-! without, glory, Since love is the

crop

not gathered In-

For »ny neighbor told her the story.

[Scrlbner's Monthly.]

How Mr. Storm Met His Destiny.

HutMlch vor Magdeleln, Sohne.lein, Sohnelein.—1IIEINT. I do not know why pe'pie always *poke of my friend Edmund Storm as a confirmed bachelor, considering the fact that ho was not far on the shady side of thirtv. It is true, he looked considerably older, and had to all apoearances entered that bloom less and sapless period which with women is called "uncertain age." Nevertheless, I had a private conviction that Storm might some fine *1 ivshed this dry and shrunken chrysalis^ and emerge in me brilliant and unexpected form. I cannot imagine what ground I had for such a belief I ouly know that I always telt called upon to combat the common illusion that he was bv nature and temperament set apart for'eternal celibacy, or oven that, he had ceased to be agitated bv matrimonial aspirations. I dimly felt that th'.re was a sort of refined cruelty in thus excluding a man from thecommo' lot of the race mey often have pity but seldom love for those who either from eccentricity or pecular excellence separate themselves from the broad, warm current of human life, having no part in the errors, idea's and aspirations of their more commonplace brethren. Even a slight deviation from the physical type of common manhood, and womanhood, as for instance, the possession of a sixth toe or linger, woviid in the eyes of the multitude go far toward making a man morally objectionable. Tt was, perhaps, because 1 wished to save my lriend St«rm from this unenviable lot that I always contended that ho was yet a promising candidate for matrimony.

E mund Storm was a Norseman by birth, but hsid emigrated some five or oix years before I made his acquaintance. Our first meeting was brougat about in railier a singular manner. I had written an article in one of our leading newspapers, commenting upon the characteristics of our Scandinavian immigrants and indulgii some fine theories, highly eulogistic of the women of mv native land. A few days after the publication of this article, my pride was seriously shocked by the receipt of a letter which told me in almost so many words that I was a conceited fool, with opinions worthy «f a bedlam. The writer, who professed to be better informed, added his name and address, and invited fne to call npon him at a specified hour, promising to furnish me with valuable material lor future treatises on the same subject. My curiosity was naturally piqued, and, swallowing my humiliation, I determined to obey the summons. I found some satisfaction in the thought that my unknown critic resided in a very unfashionable neighborhood, and mentally put him down as one of those half civilized boors whom the first breath of our republican air had inllated a good deal beyond their natural dimensions. I was therefore somowhat disconcerted .when, alter having climbed half a dozen long stair cases, I was confronted with a pale, thin man, of calm, gentlemanly bearing, with the unmistakable stamp of culture upon his brow. He shook my hand with grave politeness, and pointine to a huge armchair of antediluvian make, invited me to be seated. The large, low-ceiled room was filled with lurniture of the most fantastic styles tables and chairs with twisted logs and scrolls of tarnished gilt a solid-looking, elaborately carved chiffonier exhibiting Adam and Eve in airy dishabille, sowing the soeds of mischief for an unborn world along mirror in broad gilt framo of the most dellciously quaint rococo, calling up the images of slim, long-waisted ladies and powdered gentlemen with wristbands of ancient lace, silk stockings and gorgeous coats. a la Iouls XV. The very air »eemed to be filled with the vague musty odor of by gono times, and the impression grew u|H»u methnt I hud unawares step pod into a lumber room, where the eighteenth century was stowed away for Bale keeping. •'You s-ee I have a weakness for old furniture," explained my host, while his rigid teatures labored for an instant to adjust themselves into something r« aomb'inga smile. 1 imagined I could hear them crocking faintly it? the effort like old tissue paper when crumpled bv an unwary hand. I almost regretted mv rudeness in having subjected him to the effort. I noticed that bo spoke with a slow, laborious en-f-eHtion, as if he

fashioning the w..ids carefully in his month before making uo his mind to omit them. His thin. flexible lips seemed admirably adapted for this purpose. "It is the only luxury I allow myself." be continued, seoinsr that I- was vet ill \t ease. "My assortment, as you will observe, is as yet a very miscellaneous one. and I*do not know that I ever shall be able to complete it."

You area fortunate man," remarked I, "who can afford to indulge such cx pensive? tastes."

Expensive," he repeated musingly, as if that, sdeahad never until then occnrreel to him. "You are quite mistaken. Expensive, as I understand the term, is not that which has a high intrinsic worth, but that wklch can only be procured at price considerably above its real value, in this sense, a hobby is uot an expensive thing. It is, as I regard it, one of the safest investments life has to oflfrr. An unambitious man likn myself without a bobby, would necessarily ie either an idler or a knave. And I am neither the one nor thobther. The truth is mv life was very poorly furnished at the start, and I have been laboring ever sinco to supply the deficiency. I am ono of those crude, colorless, superfluous products which Nature throws off with listless case in her leisure moments when her thoughts are wandering and her strength has been exhausted by some great and noble effort."

Mr. Storm uttorcd these extraordinary sentiments, not wiiba careless tors of the head, and loud demonstrative ar­

dor, but. with a grave, measured intonation, as if he were reciting from so mo tedious moral book recommended by ministers of the gospel and fathers of families. Ilis long, dry face with its perpendicular wrinkles, and tho whole absurd proportion bet-weon his longitude ana latitude, suggested to mo the idea that Nature had originally made him short and stout, t*i\d then having suddenly changed her mind, had subjected him to a prolonged process of stretching in order to adapt him to tho altered type. I had no doubt that if I could see those parts of his body which were now covered, they would show by longitudinal wrinkles "tho effects of this hypothetical stretching. His features in their original shape may have been handsome, although I am inclined to doubt there were glimpses of fine in tentions in them, but as a whole, he was right in pronouncing them rather a second rate piece of workmanship. His nose was thin, sharp and aquiline, and the bone seemed to exert a severe strain upon the epi'U'nnis. which was stretched over the projecting bridge with tho tensity of a drum head. I will not reveal what an unpleasant possibility this niggardliness on Nature's part suggested to mo. His eyes (the only featuro in him which was distinctly Norse) were of a warm gray tint, and expressed frank severity. You saw at once that, whatever his eccentricities mi«ht be, here was a Norseman in whom there was no guile. It was these fine Norse eyes which at once prepossessed me in Storms favor. They furnished me approximately with'thekey note to his character I knew that God did n-.t expend such eyes upon any but the rirest natures. Storm's taste for old furniture was no longer a mystery in fact, I began to suspect that there lurked a fantastic streak of some warm, deep tinged hue somewhere in his bony composition, and mv -fingers began to itch with the desire to make a psychological autopsy. "Apropos of crude workmanship," began my host alter a pause, during which he had been examining his long fingers with an air oi criticism nnd doubtful appro -ation. You kn. why

I wrote to you confessed th tt I was unable to guess his motive.

Well, "then, lis'en to me. Your article was written with a good deal of youthful power but it was thoroughly falsi'. You spoke of what you did not know. I thought it was my duty to guard vou from future errors, especially as I felt that you were a young man standing upon th? threshold of life, about to enter upon a career of great mischief or great usefulness. Then you are of my own blood—but there is no need of apologies. You have come, as I thought you would."

It was especially my sentiments regarding Norsewomcn, I believe, that you objected to," I said hesitatingly for in spite of his fine eyes, my friend still impressed me as an unknown quantity, and 1 mentally labelled him re, and determined by .slow, degrees to solve his equation. •'Yes," he answered "your sentiments about Norsewomen, or rather about women in general. They prp made very much of the saqje stuff the world over. I do not mind telling von that I speak from bitter experience, and my words ought, therefore, to have th" more weight." ".Your experience must have been very wide," I answered by way of pleasantry, "since, as you hint, it includes the whole world."

He stared for a moment, did not respond to my smile, but continued in the same imperturbable monotone: "When God abstracted that seventh or ninth lib from Adam, and fashioned a woman of it, the result was, entre nous, nothing to boast of. I have never ceased to regret that Adam did not wake up in time to thwart that hazardous experiment. It may have been necessary to introduce sortie tragic«lement into our lives, and if that was the intention, lad mit that the means were ingenious. my mind the only hope of salvation for the human race lies in its gradual emancipatiin from that baleful ra«siwn which draws men and womens irresistibly to each other. Love and reason in a well regulated human bein^, form at best an armed neutrality, but fU1 never cordially co-operate, ftut few men arrive in this life at this ideal state, and women neyer. As it is now, our best energies are wasted in vain endeavors to solve the matrimonial problem at the very time when our vitality is greatest an*i our strength mieht be expended with the best effect in tho service of the race, for the advancement of science, art, or industry."

But would you then abolish marriage?" I ventured to ask. "That wruld mean, as I understand it, to abolish the race Itself."

No." he answered calml7. "In my ideal state, marriaire should bo tolerated but It should be regulated by the gorf rnment, with a total disregard of individual preferences, nnd with a sole view to the physical and intellectual improvement of the race? There should bo a permanent government commission appointed, say on? iu each Stato, consisting of the most prominent scientists, and moral teacher-. No marriage should be legal without being approved and confirmed by them. Marriage, as it is at present, is. in nino cases out of ten, an unqualified evil: as Schopenhauer puts it, it halves our joys and doubles our sorrows

And triples our expenses," I prompted, laughing. And tripples our expenses," ho repeated gravely. "Talk about finding your affinity and all that sort of stuff! Supposing the wo-Md to be a huge bag, as JU reality it is then take several hundred million blocks, representing human beings, and label each one by pairs, giving them a corresponding mark and col«r. Then shake the whole bag violently, and you will admit that the chances of an encounter between the two with the same label are extremely slim. Ilis just so with marriage. It i? all chance—a heaitless, aimless, and cruel lottery. Tbere are more valuable human lives wrecked ever hour of tho day in this dangerous game than by all the vices that barbarism or civilization has ever invented.

I hazarded some feeble remonstrance against these revolutionary heresis(asl conceived them to be), but'my opponent met me on all sides with his indexible logic. We spent several hours together without at all approaching an agree»ment, and finally parted with the promise to dine together and resume the discussion the next day.

This was the beginning of my acquaintance with the pessimist, Edmund Storm.

II.

**F'i: nT« "ifT,Tbe.Stein der Wrisen, IMi-'se Divi- nort' hpreisea, Tnd ich pries und snchte sle, Abcrnch! ich fand sle Pie, —[HSISK.

During the next two years there was never a week, and seldom a day, when I did not see Storm. We lunched together at a much-frequented restaurant riot far from Wall street, and my friend's sarcastic epigrams would do much to reconcile me to my temperance habits by supplying in a more ethereal form

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENIIS1G MAIL.

the stimulants with whicn others strove to facilitate or ruin their digestions. Existence is even at best a doubtful boon," he would say while ho dissected his beefsteak with the seriousness of a scientific observer. "A man's philosophy is rop ulttted by his stomach. No uuieunt of stoicism can reconcile a man to dvspepsia. If our nationality were by nature endowed with the digestion of a boa constrictor, I should seriously ensider the propriety of vanishing into tho Nirvana."

I often wondered what could be the secret of Storm's liking for me for that he liked me, in his own lugubrious fashion, there could be nodoubt. As for myself, I never could determine how far I reciproeated his feeling. I should hardly say that I loved him, but his talk fascinated me, and it always Irritated me to hear nn/ one speak ill of him. He was tho very opposite of what the world calls a "good follow ho did not slap vou on the shoulder and salute you with a "Hallo,old boy!" and I am inclinod to think that he would hare promptly resented any unduo familiarity. He was a man of the most exact habits, painfully conscientious in all his dealings, and absolutely devoid oi vices, unless, indeed, his oxtravagance in tho purehaso of old furniture might be class ed under tha' head. To people of slipshod habits, his painstaking exactness was of course highly exasperating, and I often myself felt that he was in need of a redeeming vice. If I could have induced him to smoke, take snuff, or indulge in a littlo innocent gambling, I believe it would have given me a good deal of satisfaction. Once I remember, I exerted myself to the utmost to beguile him into taking a humorous view of a mendacious tramp, who, after having treated us to a highly pathetic autobiography, importuned us for a quarter. But no, Storm could see nothing but the moral hideousness of the. man, lectured him severely, and would have sent him away unrewarded, if I had not temporarily suspended my principles.

During our continued intercourse, I naturally iearned a good deal about my friend's previous life and occupation. He was of verv trood family, had enjoy ed an excellent university education, nnd had tho finest piospects of a prosperous career at home, when, as far as I could ascertain, he took a sudden freak to emigrate. He had inherited a modest fortune, and now maintained himself as cashier in a large tea importing house in the city. He read the newspapers diligently, apparently with a view to convincing himself of the universal wretchedness of mankind in general and the American people in particular, had a profound contempt for ambition of every sort, believed nothing that life could offer worthy of an effort, except—old furniture.-

In the autumn of 187-, he was taken violently ill with inflammation of the lungs, and I naturally devoted every evening to him that I could spare from mv work. He suffered acutely, but was perfectly calm and hardly ever moved a muscle. "I seldom indulge in the luxury of whining," he said to me ov.ee. as I was «eated at his bedside. "But, if I should die, cs I believe I shall, it would be a pity i! the lesson of my life should be •oat to Humanity. "It is the only valuable tiling I leave behind me, except, perhaps, my furniture,which I bequeath t. you."

He lay fer awhile looking with grave criticism at his long, lean fingers, and then told me the following story of which I shall give a brief resume.

Some ten years ago, while be was ytt in the university, he had made the acquaintance of a young girl, Emily Gerstad,the daughterof a widow in whose house be lived. She was a wild, unruly thing, full of coquettish airs, frivolous as a kitten, but for all that, a phenomenon of most absorbing interest. She was a blonde of the purest Northern type, with a magnificent wealth of thick curly hair and a pair of blue eyes, which seemed capable of expressing the very finest things that God ever deposited in a woman's nature. It was useless to disapprove of her, aud to argue with her on the error of her ways was a waste of breath her moral nature was too fatally flexible. She could assume with astonishing facility a hundred different attitudes on the same question, and acted the penitent, the indifferent, the defiant, with such a perfection of art as really to deceive herself. And in spite of all this, poor Storm soon found that sh6 had woutd herself so closely about bis heart, that the process of unwinding, as he expressed it, would quire greater strength aud a sterner philosophy than he believed himself to possess. He had always been shy of women, not because he distrusted them, but because he was painfully conscious of being in point of physical finish a second rate article, a bungling piece of work, and naturally felt his disadvantages more keenly in the presence of those upon whom Nature had expended all her best art. He was, according to his own assertion, an idealist by temperament, and had Kept a sacred chamber in his heart where the vestal fire burned with a pure flame. Now the deepest strata of his being were stirred, and he loved with an oveiwhelming fervor and intensity which fairly frightened him. In a moment of abject despair he proposed to Emily, and to his surprise was accepted. And what'was more, it was no comedy on her part he even now believed that she really loved him. All the turbulent forces of her being were toned down to a beautiful, womanly tenderness. She clung to him with a passionate devotion which seemed to bo no less of a surprise to herself than it was to him—clung to his stronger self, perhaps, as a refuge from her own waywardness, listened with a sweet, shamo faced happiness to his bright plans for their common future, and shared his pleasures and his light disappointments with an ardor and an ever ready sympathy, as if her whole previous life had been an education for this one end—to be a perfoet wife and to be his wife.

But alas their happiness was of brief duration. At the end of a year, he bad finished bis legal studies, and pa«sed a brilliant examination. An excellent situation was obtained for him in a small town OH the sea-coast, whither ho removed and began to prepare for the foundation of his home. It was here be contracted his taste for quaint furniture, all that was now left to him of his hajipinejss—nay, of his life. Suddenly, at the end of eight months, she ceased writing to him—a fact which, alter all, argued well for her sincerity full of apprehension, be hastened to the capital and found her engaged to a young lieutenant,—a dashing, hare-brained fellow, covered all over with gilt embroidery, undeniably handsome, but otherwise of very little worth. At least that was Storm's impression of him he may have done him injustice, he added, with his usual conscientiousness. A man wbo sees the whole structure of his life tumbling down over his head is not apt to take a charitable view of the author of the ruia. A week later, Storm was on his way to America,—that was the end of the story.

Yes, if my friend had died, according to his promise, the story would have ended here but, as for once, he broke his word, I am obliged to add thesequel.

SSIiif

I noticed that for some time after his recovery he kept shy of mo. As be afterward plainly told me, he felt as if I had purloined a piece of his most precious private property, in sharing a griel which had hithoito been his own exclusive troasure. *.

III.

Kurcht'dlch uicht,du Ilebes Ivintirh* n, Vor iler boson (leister Marht Tug nnd Nacht, dn Ilebes Kiudohen, Halten Eugel bel dir Wncht. [HEINE. Once, on a warm moonlight night in September. Storm and I took a walk in the Park. Tho night always turned him into gentle mood, and I even suspect that he bad some, sentiment about it. The currents of life, h9 said, than ran more serenely, with aslower and healthier pulse beat t! unfathomable mysteries of life crowded in upon us our shallow individualities were quenched, and our larger human traits rose nearer to the surface. Th- best, test of sympathy was a night walk two persons who then jarrred upon each other might safely conclude that they were constitutionally unsympathetic. He had known silly girls who in moonlight were sulime: bHt it was dangerous to build one's hopes of happiness upon this moonlight sublimity. Just as all complexions, except positive black, were fair when touched by tho radiance of the night, so all shades of character, except downright wickedness, borrowed a finer human tinge under this illusory illumination. Thus ran bis talk, I throwing in the necessary expletives, and as I am neither black nor absolutely wicked, I have reason to believe that appeared to good advantage.

It is very curious about women," he broke forth after a long meditative pause. "In spite of all my pondering on the subject, I never quite could understand the secret of their fascination. Their goodness, if they are good, is usually of the quality of oatmeal, and when tbey are bad 'They are horrid,' I quoted promptly.

Amen," he added with a contented chuckle. "I never could see the appropriateness of the Bible precept about coveting your neighbor's wife," he resumed after wnother brief silence. "I, for my part, rever found my Neighbor's wife worth coveting. But will admit that I have, in a few instauces, l'elt inclined to covet my neighbor's child. No amount of pessimism can quite fortifj' a man a^iiinst the desire to have children. A child is not always a 'thing of beauty,' nor is it apt to be 'a joy for ever but I never yet met the man who would not be willing to take his chances. It is a confounded thing that the paternal instinct is so deeply implanted, even in such apiece of dri«I up parchment as myself. It is like discovering a warm, livovein«f throbbing blood under the shriveled skin of an Egyptian mumnay."

Wo sauntered on ior more than an hour, now plunging into dense masses of shadow, now again emerging into cool pathways of light. The conversation turned on various topics, all of which Storm touched with a kindlier humor than was his wont. The world was a failur but for all that, it was the part of a wise man to make the best of it as it was. Thelclock in some neighboring tower struek ten we took a street car and rode home. As we were about to alight (I first, and Storm following closely alter me.) 1 noticed a woman with a wild, frightene I face hurrying away from tho street lamp right in front of us, My friend, owing either to his near sightedness, or his preoccupation, had evidently not observed her. We climbed tho loug dimly lighted stairs to his room, and both stumbled at the door against a large basket. "That detestable washwoman!" he muttered. "How often have I told her not to place her basket where everybody is sure to run into it!"

He opened the door and I carried the basket into the room, while he struck a match and lighted the drop light on the table.

Excuse me for a m»ment," he went on, stooping to lift the cloth which covered the basket. "I want to count Gracious heavens! what is this?" he cried suddenly, springing up as if he bad stepped on something alive then he sank down into an arm chair, and -sat staring vacantly before bim. In the basket lay a sleeping infant, apparently about eight months old. As soon as I had recovered from my first astonishment, I bent down over it and regarded it attentively. It was a beautiful,3 healthy looking child,—not a mere formless mass of fat with hastily sketched features, as babes ot that age are apt to be. Its face wa? of exquisite finish, a straight, well modeled little nose, a softly defined dimpled little chin, and a fresh, finely curved mouth, through which the even breath came and went with a quiet, hardly perceptible rhythm. It was all as sweet, harmonious and artistically perfect as a Tenn3'Sonianstanza. The little waif won my heart at once, and it wasasevere test of my selfdenial that I had to repress my desiro to kiss it I somehow felt that my friend ought to ^o the first to recognize it as a member of his household. "Storm," I said, looking up at his p-de, vacant lace. "It is a dangerous thing to covet one's neighbor's child. But, if you don't adopt this little dumb supplicant., 1 fear you will tempt me too to break the tenth commandment. I believe there is a c!auo there about coveting children."

Storm opened his eyes wide, and with on effort to rouse himself, pushed back tho chair and knelt down at the side of the basket. With a gentle, movement he drew off the cover under wMch the child slept, and discovered on ita bosnm a letter which he eagerly seized. As he

?lis

(lanced at the direction on the envelope, face underwent a marvelous change it was as if a mask had suddenly been removenl, revealing a new type of "wanner. purer and tenderer manhood.

The letter read as follows: Dearest Ethnund It has gono all wrong with ni!. You know I would not come to you, if thero was any other hope left. As for myself, I do not care what becomes of me. but you will not forsake my little girl. Will

you,

dear Edmund I know you will cot. I promise you, I shall never claim her back. She shall bo yours always. Her name is Ragna she was born February 2th, ati'l was christened two months later. I have prayed to God that she may bring happiness into your life, that she may expiate the wrong her mother did you.

I was not married until five vears after you left me. It is a great sin to say it, but I always hoped that you would come back io me. I did not know tben how great my wrong was. Now I know it and I hare ceased to hope. Do not try to find me. It will be useless. I »hall never willingly cross your path, dear Edmund. I have learned that happiness never comes where I am and I would not darken your life again,—no I would not, so help me God Only forgive me, if you can, and do not say anything bad about me to my child —ah! what a horrible thought! I did not mean to ask you that, because I know how good you are. I am so with strange thoughts, so daietf+iuid tewil-

doren tlw do not know what I am saying. Farewell, dear Edmund.— Vour, EMILY.

If you should decide not to keep my 1 ttle girl (as I do no .liink you will,) #f*id a line addressed E. H. II., to the personal column In the 'N. Y. Herald.' But do not try to find me. I shall an swer you in the same way aud tell you where to send the child. E. H."

This letter was uot shown to mo until several years after, but oven then the half illegible words, evidently traced with a trembling band the pathetic abruptness of the sentences, sounding like the grief-stricken cries of a living voice, and the still visible marks of tears upon the paper, made an impression upon me which is not easily forgotten.

In the meanwhile Storm, having read and reread the letter, was lifting his strangely illumined eyes to the ceiling.

God be praised," he Shid in a trembiing whisper. "I have wronged her, too, and I did not know-it. I will be a father to her child."

The little girl, who had awaked, without signaling the fact in the usual manner, fixed her large, fawn-like eyes upon him in peaceful wonder. Ho knelt "down cnce more, fook her in his arms, and kissed her gravely and solemnly. It was charming to see with what tender awkwardness he held her, as if she were some precious thing made of frail stuff that might easily be broken. My curiosity had already prompted ire to examine ihe basket, which contained a variety of cloan, tiny articles,—linen, stocking a rattle with tho distinct "impress of its nationality, and several neatly folded dresses, among which a long, white, elaborately embroidered one irked by a slip of paper as "Baby's Christening Gown."

I will not reproduce the long and serious consultation which followed be it sufficient to chronicle the result. I hastened homeward, and had tnv andlady, Mrs. Harrison, roused from her midnight slumbers she was, as I knew, a woman bf strong maternal instincts, who was fond of referring to her experience in that line,—a woman to whom your thought would naturally revert in embarrassing circumstances. She responded promptly and eagerly to my appeal the situation evidently rous?d all the latent romance of her nature, and afforded her no small satisfaction. She spent a half hour in privacy with the baby, who reappeared fresh and beaming in a sort ot sacerdotal Norse nighthabit which was a miracle of neatness.

Bless her little heart," ejaculated. Mrs. Harrison, as the small fat hands persisted in pulling her already deaioralized side curls. "She certainly knows mothen in an aside to Storm: "The mother, whoever she may Ue. sir, is a lady. I never seed finer linen as long as I lived and every single blessed piece is embroidered with two letters which I reckon means tho name of the child."

Storm, bowed his head silently and sighed. But when the baby, after having rather indifferently submitted to a caress from ine, stretched out its arms to him and consented with great good humor to a final good night kiss, largo tears rolled down ovor his cheeks, while be smiled, as I thought only tho angels could smile.

I am obliged to add before the curtain is dropped upon this nocturnal drama, that my friend was guilty of an astonishing piece of Vandalism. When my landlady had deposited the sleeping child in bis large, exquis tely carved and canopied bed (which, as he declared, made him feel as if a hundred departed grandees were his bed fellows,) we both went in to have a final view of our little foundling. As we stood there, clasping each other's hands in silence, Storm suddenly fixed his eyes witn a savage glaie at one of the bed posts, which contained a tile of porcelain, representing Joseph leaving his garment in the buna of Potiphar's wife on the post opposite wa3 seea Samson sheared of his glory and Delilah fleeing through the opened door with his seven locks in her b'and a third represented Jezebel being pre cipitated from a third story window, and tha subject of the fourth I have forgotten. It was a remnant of tho not always delicato humor of the seventeenth century. My friend, with a fierce disgust, strangely but of keeping with his former mood, pulled a knito from bis pocket, and deliberately proceded to demolish the precious tiles. When lie had succeeped in breaking out the last, be turned to me and said:

I have been an atrocious fool. It is high time I should get to know it." A week later I found four new tiles with designs of Fra Angelico's anirels installed in the places of the reprobate Biblical women.

IV.

zura ersten Male llebt.

is Seles auch glucklos ist elu Clo t." [llEISK. During the following week,

Storm and

I, with the aid of the police, searched New York from one end to the other but Emily must have foreseen tho event and covered up her tracks carefully. Our seeking was all in vain. In the meanwhile the baby was not neglected* my friend's third room, which had hitherto done service as a sort of state parlor was consecrated as a nursery, a stout German nurse was procured, and much time was devoted to the designing of a cradle (an odd mixture of the Pomp&iian and the Eastlake style), which \*as well calculated to stimulate whatever artistic sfnse our baby must hm been endowed with. It it had been heir to a throne, its wants could not have been more carefully studied. Storm was as flexible as wax in its tiny band. Life had suddenly acquired a very definite meaning to him he had discovered that he had a valuable stake in it. Strange as it mav seem, the whole gigantic jjvorld, with its manifold and complicated instHtions, began t* re-adjust itself in his mind with sole reference to its pos-ible influence upon the baby's fate. Political questions were* no longar CMI'venieni pegs to ban- pessimistic epigrams on, but became matters of vital interest because tbey affected the moral condition of the country in which the baby was to grow up. Socialistic agitetions which a dispas-ionato bachelor could afford to regard with philosophic indifference now presented themselves as diabolical plots to undermine the baby's happiness, and deprive her of whatever earthly goods Providence might see fit to bestow upon her, and so on, ad infinitum. From a radical, with revolutionary sympathies, my fr.'end in the course of a year blossomed out into a conservative Philistine with a decided streak of optimism, and all for the sake of the baby. It was very amusing to listen to his solemn consultations with the nurse every morning before he betosk himself to the ofBce, aad to watch the lively, almost childlike intorest with which, on returning in the evening, he listened to her long winded report of the baby's wonderful doings during the day. On Sundays, when be always spent the whole afternoon at home, I oft^n surprised bim in the most undignified attitudes creeping about on the floor with the little girl riding on his back, or stretched out full length with his head in her lap, while she was gracious enough to interest herself iu his hair, aad even laughed and prattled with much inarticulate erontentment. At auch f&r-'

times, when, perhaps, through the disordered locks, I caught a glimpse of a beaming happy face (for niy visits were never of sufBcient account" to interfere with baby's pleasures}, I would pay my respectful tribute to the baby, acknowledging that she possessed a power, the secret of which I eiid not know.

But in spite of all this, I did not fail to detect that Storm's life was not even now without its sorrow. At our luncheons, I often saw a sad and thoughtful gloom settling upon his features it was no longer the bitter reviling grief of former years, but a deep and mellow sadness, a regretful dwelling on mental images which were hard to contemplate and harder still to banish. "•Do you know," he exclaimed once, as be felt that I had divined his thoughts her face haunts me night and day! I feel as if my happiness in possessing the child wore a daily robbery from her. I have continued my search for ber up to this hour, but I have found no-trace of her. Perhaps if you help me, Isballnot always be seeking in vain."

I gave him my hand silentfy across the table he shook it heartily, and we parted.

It was about a month after t&is occurrence that I happened to be sitting on one of the benches near the entrance to Central Park. That restless spring feeling which always attacks me somewhat prematurely with-the early May sunshine, bad beguiled me into taking a holiday, and with a book, which had. been sent me for review, lying upon my knees, I was watching the occupants of the baby carriages which were being wheeled up and down on the pavement in front of me. Presently I discovered Storm's nurse seated on a bench near by in eager exmverse with a male personage of her own nationality. The baby, who was safely strapped in the carriage at the roadside, was pleasantly occupied in venting her destrflctive instincts upon a linen edition $f "Mother Goose." As I arose to get a nearer view of the child, I saw a slender, simply dressed lady, with a beautiful buteiare-worn face, evidently approaching with the same intention. At the sight of me she suddenly paused: a look of recognition seemed to be vaguely struggling in her features—she turned around and walked rapidly away. The thought immediately flashed through me that it was the same face I had seen under the ga» lamp on the evening when the childi was found. Moreover, the type, although not glaringly Norse, corresponded in its general outline to Storm's descjiption. Fearing to excite her suspicion, 1 forced my face into the most neutral expression, stooped down to converse with the baby, and then rauntered off' with a leisurely air toward "Ward's India'-. Hunter." I had no doubt that if the lady were tho childs mother, she would soon re-appear and I need not add that t»y expectations proved correct. After having waited some fifteen minutes. I saw ber returning with switt, wary stops and watchful eyes, like some lithe wild thing that scents danger in the air. As she came up the nurse, she dropped down int the seat with a fine affectation of weariness, and began to chat with an attempt at indifference which was truly pathetic. Her eyes seemed all the while to be devouring the child with a wild, hungry tenderness. Suddenly she pouncea upon it, bugged it tightly in her arms, and quite forgetting her role, strove no more to smother her sobs. The nurse was greatly alarmed I heard her expostulating, but could not distinguish the words. The child criod. Suddenly the lady rose, explained briefly, as I afterward heard, that s'lio had herself lately lest a child, and hurried away. At a [Continued, on Seventh Page

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