FROM MY WINDOW.

Otago Witness, Issue 2360, 18 May 1899, Page 50

FROM MY WINDOW.

By Joyous Gabde,

The wind is raw and cold 10-day — so cold that even the pretty girls look not quite so pretty as usual ; the thin ones look pinched, and the rosy ones are ruddy to a fault. But here comes one who looks charming. Bright-faced, merry — I had almost said good-natured, but a long experience with the sex has proved to me that no woman, however amiable, can endure to be called ' good-natured " — with a happy word to hei acquaintances and a youthful half-inquisitive glance for the people hurrying past, she goes on her way. I watch her out of sight and think of the brightness she will bring to some fireside — the brightness, not of sparkling repartee and witty sallies, for methinks this dafk-eyed maiden is not of the brilliant order of intellect, but of kindness of heart and love for her dear fellow-creatures. Nature delights in sharp contrasts, and by -way of exemplifying this, the next person who comes along is that particular sort of individual known as a society man. He scrolls past languidly,' and surveys the girls he meets as though he had the sole right of possession to each of their pretty faces: the rest of the public he ignores, unless a smart carriage happens to pass, and then his mile and bow are beautiful to see. One stops near him, and the fair flccujgint leans out for a few minutes' chat

about last night's dance or this evening's theatre party. Observe the deference of the man and the anxiety with which •he hastens to pick up a bunch of violets which falls from the coquettish sealskin coat. Indeed, so eager is he that he appears to be unconscious of the fact that he has knocked from the hand of a shabby woman a parcel, which, laden as she is with half a dozen others, she is quite unable to regain. Being quite a common person she looks very indignant and distinctly -warlike ; but the pretty recipient of the attentions of this ftiodern fine gentleman averts the impending scene wih a. dainty wave of her hand, intimating her wish that he should pi(Jk up the extremely large parcel, covered with newspaper and reminding one so forcibly of a butcher's shop. With rather a bad grace he obeys, and .when he turns again he finds the carriage moving on, so there is no chance of any more chat to-day, and very little for some time to come if I read aright the somewhat stiff little bow which bids him farewell.

A large and aggressive female wearing a Salvation bonnet appears. In spite of the bleak wind she looks warm, nay, she looks hot, but I imagine she is the sort of person wko always looks hot whatever the temperature. She clutches by the hand a somewhat unwilling boy, bearing a strong facial resemblance to herself. Is he, too, a Salvationist 2. Let us hope so, and let us also hope that it teaches him to walk uprightly in that station of life in which it has pleased Providence to place him. All honour to the. Army for. the good work it performs ; but/ alas I alas ! human nature is unregenerate, and the unlovely young woman who attends to my unexacting needs wears the large and slabby silver brooch common to the order, yet she shows little enthusiasm for " the daily round, the common task." But what might she not be did she not belong to the Army? Ah ! here comes my " tall, pale widow," as our beloved Rudyard hath it. How gracefully she walks (so few women do), and how a widow's bonnet seems to make still more lovable a lovely face. On a sudden my determination to remain a bachelor all my days becomes a foolish one. Not that even I, with all the self-esteem with which my friends in moments of candour are wont to credit me, fancy that I could chase away that settled cloud of sadness. Tragedy — the tragedy of one who has known the best that life can give and seen it pass — is written on that face ; and one knows instinctively that no substitute can -ever be accepted for the joy she has lost. God makes some women so. When He sees fit to jfcake away that which made life for them a complete and beautiful thing they take up their cross bravely ; but this world becomes to them but a halting-place, whence they hope soon to pass to where "beyond -these voices" they will rejoin Trim .whose loss changed for them the face of -the world.

I look round the old room, and, feel Very lonely. Once a woman loved me so/ but ..circumstances", were against us. I was poor and proud, and would ask no woman "to., share even comparative poverty with me, l"and so I let "her go. It is easily said, and.y et! and 1 yet! what other pleasures that ever I" have had in my life — and they have not been few as the world counts, pleasures — would I not give to be young again and sitting beside her with' the firelight gleaming on her sunny head as we talk of all things in earth and heaven. She is far away and the golden head is no longer golden, but to-night the thought suggests itself that perhaps -I, would have been wiser had I braved all things for her sweet self.

The twilight "and the firelight and that woman's face have proved too much for me. To-morrow I shall be my usual fairly happy, if somewhat cynical, self again, and view with philosophy the fact that the beat things of life are not for me; to-night I cannot.