Life — March 1, 1906 — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

I FE- At the breakiast table she said pleasantly: “How’s Humpton—and the new System? Von Blumer did not immediately reply. himseli together for “What hurts me,” he said, with an air of deep resignation, “is the utter inability of your feeble mind to grasp what I am trying to do He was evidently gathering supreme effort Here we are, to quote from a circular I received yesterday, ‘victims of the stress and strain of modern competition, where the way about us is strewn with physical wrecks, and with none of us paying the slightest tention to our physical bodies’ "— Von inly not neglecting yours.” Blumer, haughtily i “Well,” interrupted Mrs imer, “I can't complain of you on that score. You are cert ‘victims went on Vor noring her remark, “that the stress and’—where was 1?—Oh, yes, ‘and sapped by the e our strength acting requirements*of modern business life—we as a race are gradually growing weaker and weaker.” Now, what am I doing? I am trying to save myself from such an awiul fate. I trust, madam, that I still cherish a few ideals. [trust 1 have a loity conception of my duty, and when, in an honest and pains- taking effort to find the truth, I am obliged to enter upon a few mild experiments, what do T meet with from the one person who should stand by me with her earnest sympathy and encouragement? Nothing, abso- Iutely nothing but ridicule, It is too much!" : Mrs. Von Blumer was really touched “Don't think I don't appreciate it, darling. I didn't mean t Speak freely she said earnestly. “Forgive me, Hes Humpton also failed you? It shall be in the strictest confidence.” Mrs. Von Blumer, it will be observed, was one woman in a thousand. She knew when she was really needed. offend you ri ; " “, 5 * | “Hnumpton,” said Von Blumer, “and Bounder, I am convinced, are doing what they can for humanity. No de able for some people. bt their systems are ad- As jor me"— He lowered his voice. “Well, the iact is, they don’t quite work. I am satisfied th thing for my constitution. are not the But, my Goer, it is only by constant ex- periment that we can arrive at the truth. i do not despair. The ideal man is before me. I shall probe this matter to the very bottom. I’m going into it deep. T! Have patience! I shall yet discover the secret o Mrs. Von Blumer’s heart her husband had had enough. voice of duty rings clear within me. a buoyant vitality.” sank within her. She was in hopes that But she realized now that she must see him through to the bitter end. Days passed. The came and went with a preoccupied air. A new light sh mail was ominous with Von Blumer Gradually, however, his face literature. changed ne in his ever hopeful eye. His step grew clastic. A new era apparent One morning he took his wi was beginning to dawn e aside. He drew her gently toward him on the sofa. He gazed calmly, radiantly, triumphantly, into her que tioning face “Darlin: he murmured, Are you sure? “Absolutely. has opened mense power stretch onward "ve got i A new lif for us both! Vistas of im Henceforth, existence for us is an earthly Paradise. Dut with it, dear. In reply, he drew solemnly: “*All is mind.” Mrs. Von Blumer started bac! “You don’t mean to tell me, Christian Scientist?” ow, I cannot wait.” from his pocket a small pamphlet, as he said she cried, “that you have become a at’s just like a woman—to jump at conclusions. Well, I should say not. The Christian Scientists no doubt are groping after the truth. They have gatherea up a few fragments of it as nothing com; But they are ed with what has been revealed to me. Yes, my dear, within this precious little volume you see here, lies the secret of life’s utmost freedom. All is thought. We, ourselves, create our own en- vironment. To-day we think what to-morrow we are. do is to place ourselves en rapport with the myst univer All we have to harmony of the Rhythmic breathing, an utter lack of fear—a sort of weleom- ing, as it were, of every consequence, a constant passiveness to all the | Vibrations that are flowing through us—in fact, to be nearly as possible | luke a jellyfish.” “A. jellyfish?” “Yes. You see this humble animal typifies in reality the freedom of life. He ebbs and flows with the current. By utterly relaxing mysel by making myself feel like a jellyfish, well, say two or three times a d in a short time I will begin to gather power, which will increase all the time. It’s all mind, you understand. Everything unpleasant is unreal— alse. And now, I must go into the silene Von Blumer led the way upstairs, followed by his awe-struck part He placed himseli gently and harmoniously on the bed at full length Then he began to br “Observe my chest, | he slowly, he whispered, “how it rises and falls in tune wi the rhythmic vibrations of the spheres. I shall now will away all harn al thoughts, I shall demand power. Ab! Already I can feel myself ting into the grandeur of it. Leave me His stricken wiie lefthim, She went into her own room, locked the door, and said her prayers in the good, old-fashioned way. She prayed that her husband might be spared. For days thereafter his | ing disturbed him. A week passed usual. ‘ace, bright and smiling, haunted her. Hour by hour he grew more angelic. One afternoon, however, he came home earlier than As he entered the room his wife fancied she detected upon his ght flush, Her observation was confirmed when he spoke. "ve caught cold.” Caught cold?” Noth- face as! bad “Me darling. replied Von Blumer, hoarsely. “Oh, no, “But you have; you're as hoarse as a frog.” “Merely a thought.” She passed her hand over his forchead, a fever.” What is that? I don't know it—it is not in my vocabulary.” “How do you fecl?” “Now, you can’t fool me,” said Mrs. Von Blumer, thoroughly alarmed. | “How does your head feel?” “There was a time when it might have ached. tion.” Dinner was announced. “You have no appetite,” said Mrs. Von Blumer, looking him over critically, Now—a mere sensa- “It does not matter; eating is of no consequence. | me, I must take a treatment.” His wife reluctantly left him. When she came back thirty minutes later, however, instead of lying down fully dressed, and going into the silence, he had retired. His feverish face looked out at her irom the pillow, over the collar of his pajamas. He was still smiling, but it was like violets in January—a trife forced. A thought. Leave “How do you feel?” “Fine! Mrs. Von Blumer had reached her limit. Even to a good woman and a patient wife there is a limit of endurance. She threw aside her patience. Her husband was a sick man. She was righteously mad. She advanced to the bedside. “Look here!” she cried. “Henry Von Blumer, you tell me the truth and no foolishness. How do you feel?” There was a ring in her voice that in an instant went down into depths of Von Blumer’s consciousness and brought him back to her once again. He raised himseli up in bed. “Feel!” he exclaimed.. “Do you really want to know how I feel? I'll tell you. I know what's the matter with me. I’ve got a good old- fashioned case of genuine grip. Every bone in my body aches. My head is full of railroad iron. I'm hotter than the devil. Do anything you please with me! Cover me with mustard plasters! Fill me with tablets. Soak my feet and my head if you want to—in hot water. Send (for the doctor. Get me well! No sicker man than I am ever drew the re- luctant breath of life. Feel! Why, I feel so utterly and hopelessly miserable that I don’t even care how much of a consummate ass I've made of myself!” TM. This was no time to parley Her voice changed. comicbooks.com