Life — January 1, 1885 — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

> LIFE: CHAPTER II. O you know how to skate?” Stella Crandon asked of Josephine. “No, but my sister Kate—” began Joe, but she stopped in time. “ Yes, to be sure, I do.” “Then come out to Jamaica Pond to-night. going.” And so, that evening, Joe found herself gliding over the dark ice with John Gassington at her side. “Well,” asked he, as they rested on the bank. you like America?” “Very much,” she answered frankly. “Although I 've been in Boston most of the time. Your men are delightful, but your girls are not pretty. I have been here.” “ But you have no dimples yourself,” he ventured. “No, but I used to have,” said Joe, the quick tears spring- ing to her eyes. ‘One time, though, when I was studying German, I got one of those awkward ten-syllable words in my mouth, and it poked the dimples right out.” “You don’t say !" he remarked politely. “ Then your entertainments,” she continued.“ There was once a‘ Boston Tea Party’ and ever since there have been nothing else. Every old tabby in town gives a tea, and every other tabby comes to it, do n't you know.” T3 We are al! “How do MY FIELD IN LIFE IS NARROW AND MY PURPOSE MODEST. “ For myself, I never go to them,” said John. “I am not at all what you would call a teaser. My fieid in life is, per- haps, narrow and my purpose modest, but my work is not beyond my means—that is why Iam so unassuming. It is enough for me if I merely reform the whole world and found an ideal republic. I am not ambitious; I hate detail; I love 7 to be listened to when I get on my favorite hobby, and I deal exclusively in generalities. “Wholesale, I suppose,” said Joe.‘ You are a man with a dominant aspiration and your life is noble. You are bound to be great! Why don’t you get married and then you would always have an audience ?” “No,” he answered very earnestly, for he thought she was growing hinty. ‘ When a man marries, he resigns his own | principles into the judgment of another, his happiness to I have not seen a dimple since | | the lake on one elbow and the back of his head. another's keeping; he gives up free thought, free action and free will in absolute and blind adherence to his wife's thoughts, judgments and decisions. No, on the matrimonial question I am a decided mugwump. I would rather remain single and keep on uttering my high sounding, political platitudes and feel that Iam better and far above the rest of mankind.” Josephine was sensible of a dull pain as she heard his words. But why? What could it matter to her, whether he married or not? “Let us skate,” she said, and averted her face so that he might not see her quivering lips and tear-dimned eyes. As they sped on over the gleaming ice, John talked of his own prospect and ideals, while Joe tried to analyze her feel- ings. What was this change that stole over her as she list- ened? Was she living a new existence? Her pulses throbbed, her heart beat wildly, her brain seemed to reel, the stars and the sky whirled madly around her, strange, lights swam before her eyes—she knew that she loved him! and at the same time she realized that she had struck a rut and sat down very hard, and that John had turned a double flip-flap and was wildly cavorting over the frozen surface of He no | longer talked of abstract ideas—of Truth, Liberty and Honor ; | his words were warm and his adjectives powerful—she felt that he was intensely moved. “Tam afraid you have n’t a sound bone left in your body,” he said anxiously as he helped her to her feet. “Oh, yes, I'm all right!” answered Joe. which is the soundest bone ?” “I don’t know,” he replied. “The trombone,” she called over her shoulder, as she glided into the darkness, and as John Gassington stood alone in the solemn starlight, he realized with a pang that the four cigars which he had carefully put in his upper left-hand waistcoat pocket had all been broken by his fall. He threw them away with no more thought than he had bestowed on the tell-tale tremor in Josephine’s last words, and as he sought the skating party, he muttered to himself: “ Herbert Spencer is right! To be a statesman one must be profound ; to bea politician, ambiguous; to be a wit, a woman.” (To be continued.) “ By-the-way, OUR CARTOON. EW YEAR'S is the season for turning over new leaves, Suppose our fathers and mothers--and daughters too —try a reform in the direction pointed out by our artist in this week's cartoon. If they do LiFE warrants them an abundance of health and happiness for the coming year. comicbooks.com