re in the house was broken, the moment it gave
offense to him. In no vehemence was he alone--his wife's anathemas and
abuse joined and exceeded his, until--he had enough of it--an overdose, in
fact, and erelong he turned a corner--came out of Hurricane Gulch into
Peaceful Lane, and he hoped the latter would know no turning. The
servants whispered of times when he would tell his wife of guests
invited to the house, and entreat her not to make a scene while they
were there.

Sixteen years have gone by, and this woman is still above ground;
stranger still the man is alive as well; and strangest of all, they are
still under the same roof. Indeed, if report and appearance are to be
trusted, Mr. Daemon is a model husband, and Mrs. Daemon's sudden and
amazing temper has spent itself and left her a person of spirit indeed,
but in nowise unamiable, and least of all, an ugly character.

No one who saw them walk past me, arm in arm, that morning, on their way
to the wreck, would have dreamed of their past.

Truly, man _is_ a harp, and truly, woman does the harping.

IV

I have been wandering about to-day in an apparently aimless fashion, but
in reality "musing upon many things." Our horror of shiftlessness, and
our realization of the responsibilities of life, and of the important
work Providence has kept saving up for us, or perhaps "growing up" for
us, like Dick Swiviller's future mate, is expressed in the fact that if
we take an hour's leisure, anywhere betwixt sunrise and sunset, we feel
under bonds to explain the matter not only to our own souls, but also to
those other souls who live adjacent, and take an everlasting interest in
ours.

Consequently, I told myself this day that I was not well--that I had
been overdoing, and that I had best "go easy for a spell." After which
concession to my interior governor, I proceeded to apologize to my
neighbors; to call my dogs--not to apologize to them, but to solicit
their company--and then to hie me away to the lake, remembering to walk
feebly as long as I was in sight.

I didn't go down to the beach, but plunged into the cool, comforting
heart of a ravine; fathomed its depths, with a feeling of delightful
seclusion, and came out on the thither side, to find myself in the
glowing October woods.

Ill? I never felt better in my life! Good, rich streams of blood coursed
through my veins, and painted a warm tint in my cheeks. At that momen