he could see how happy they would be together. How her
presence would lengthen his life, how her love would smooth away
all his cares. What mattered it, sunshine or rain. She was his
and that sufficed.
Then his bachelor life was so chill. Lonely evenings with no
companion but a book and a pipe. Everything awry. He felt
as though he needed some one to cheer his loneliness. How
pleasant it would be to see her flitting about the room, touching
this here and that there, and filling the whole room with the sun
shine of her presence. Ah, those were pleasant thoughts. But there
was another side. Hark,—what was that,—only the neighbor's
child crying. Yes—but,—well. Now he sees himself surrounded
by a large family. His salary is small and the young mouths are
so hard to fill.
Another vision presents itself.
Midnight—Baby has the colic
There is where the steady tramp, tramp which he learned at
college comes into service.
Will that child never stop his crying.
He is so tired and sleepy, the day, at the office has been very
Where is the paregoric and Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup ?
Useless, for baby, like Tennyson's brook, goes on forever. Oh
—er, why do people persist in leaving tacks around the floor.
The reverie is broken. He starts up, and as he does so-catches
a glimpse of her photograph on the mantle piece. Instantly all
the latent love within him surges up, and he starts for the door,
In the middle of the floor he stops.
There is that awful cry again, and with it comes a remembrance
of that midnight vision of toil and pain. He pauses, irresolute,
should he go out or stay in. The door or his easy chair ? Long
he stands there pondering. Then, as if coming to a sudden reso
lution, he throws up his head and moves towards the which ?
Alas my co-ed that you could be
So cruel, false and heartless
You who ever had seemed to me
The Free Lance.
THE MAR= HEART.
[APRIL,