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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, April 25, 1916, LAST EDITION, Image 26',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
MRS. SELWIN TELLS A LITTLE STORY
Dear Mrs. Selwin is such qpmfort
to me. She is one of the few old
women I have known who is always
ready to say, "Take heart, child. I
have been through the"""whple of it.
It is not love or the lack of love that
is making you unhappy. It is the
restlessness and imagination of
youth that speaks."
"Most women," she said this
morning when I was speaking to her
about Donna, "never learn that the
only tragedy of humanity is, that
notwithstanding its great, sympa
thetic heart, ready and willing to
give and to receive, each member of
the human family must live and die
"I remember," Mrs. Selwin said in
a reminiscent tone, "of a time some
years ago when rummaging through
some forgotten boxes I came across
a copy of a letter than I had written
to my husband many years before
and straightway my heart went sail
ing out on the sea of memory with
Xiove as the pilot
"I sat down and wrote another let
ter to my husband in which I poured
jut all the loving thought that had
been in my somewhat lonely heart
for years. As I wrote I found I had
much for which to be thankful the
sorrows that had grieved me sorely
seemed of little consequence when I
looked back on them.
"I poured my whole heart out into
words and told him things I had
never owned to myself.
"And then I made a great mistake.
Instead of mailing that letter I
thought I would read it to him. I had
a foolish notion that I would like to
see his eyes kindle, to feel the clasp
of his outstretched hands as I read it;
to know the touch of his lips at the
" 'Wait, dear, I want to read you
something,' I said as he took up his
1 "He laid down the sheet with a
slightly irritated air, but I was so full
of the mood of the afternoon that
even then I did not realize that the
time was not propitious.
"Before the first paragraph was
finished he had begun to finger his
paper, but I went bravely on reading
a few more sentences, but I felt that
all my beautiful sentiment, all my
pent-up emotion, all the love I was
voicing was wasted on a disinterest
"It may seem trivial, but that mo
ment held one of the bitterest pangs
I have ever known.
"Tears were at my eyelids. I was
choking so that I could not speak.
Life had turned in a moment from
rose to ashes.
"I believe, Margie, that every mar
ried woman has had more or less of
an experience like this moments
when her whole love-world seems a
howling wilderness and at such times
she sometimes wonders why nature
implants in the breast of woman this
hunger for a love that will always
understand and then destine that she
shall never be satisfied.
"A few days afterward I learned
that my husband had been all after
noon much engrossed in a financial
problem which must be solved within
the next sixty days.
"His mind had been away off in a
different direction and it was impos-
I sible to bring it back immediately to
the memories of early youthful love.
(To Be Continued.)
A cat in an office building in At
lanta, Ga., spends much of her time
riding on the elevator. It is necessary
for this cat to go to the fourth floor
to see the janitor and to get her food
and to go to the basement to care
for her kittens.
California's lemon crop in 1915
was 132 per cent more than was
raised there during previous year.