THE FORERUNNER
A MONTHLY MAGAZINE
BY
CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN OWNER AND PUBLISHER
1.00 A YEAR .10 A COPY
Volume 1. No. 2 DECEMBER, 1909 The Charlton Company, 67 Wall Street, New York Copyright for 1909, C. P. Gilman
LOVE
Not the child-G.o.d of our most childish past, Nor sympathy, nor worship, pa.s.sionless; Nor grat.i.tude, nor tenderest caress: Nor the post-mortal glamor priests have cast With "This to hope! Surrender what thou hast!"
These are but parts and can but partly bless; We in our new-born common consciousness Are learning Law and Life and Love at last.
The age-old secret of the sphinx"s holding, Incarnate triumph, infinitely strong; The mother"s majesty, grown wide and long, In the full power and fire of life"s unfolding; The conscious splendor and ripe joy thereof-- Glad world-wide, life-long service--this is Love!
ACCORDING TO SOLOMON
""He that rebuketh a man afterwards shall find more favor than he that flattereth with his tongue,"" said Mr. Solomon Bankside to his wife Mary.
"Its the other way with a woman, I think;" she answered him, "you might put that in."
"Tut, tut, Molly," said he; ""Add not unto his words,"--do not speak lightly of the wisdom of the great king."
"I don"t mean to, dear, but--when you hear it all the time"--
""He that turneth away his ear from the law, even his prayer shall be an abomination,"" answered Mr. Bankside.
"I believe you know every one of those old Proverbs by heart," said his wife with some heat. "Now that"s not disrespectful!--they _are_ old!--and I do wish you"d forget some of them!"
He smiled at her quizzically, tossing back his heavy silver-gray hair with the gesture she had always loved. His eyes were deep blue and bright under their bushy brows; and the mouth was kind--in its iron way.
"I can think of at least three to squelch you with, Molly," said he, "but I won"t."
"O I know the one you want! "A continual dropping in a very rainy day and a contentions woman are alike!" I"m _not_ contentious, Solomon!"
"No, you are not," he frankly admitted. "What I really had in mind was this--"A prudent wife is from the Lord," and "He that findeth a wife findeth a good thing; and obtaineth favor of the Lord.""
She ran around the table in the impulsive way years did not alter, and kissed him warmly.
"I"m not scolding you, my dear," he continued: "but if you had all the money you"d like to give away--there wouldn"t be much left!"
"But look at what you spend on me!" she urged.
"That"s a wise investment--as well as a deserved reward," her husband answered calmly. ""There is that scattereth and yet increaseth," you know, my dear; "And there is that withholdeth more than is meet--and it tendeth to poverty!" Take all you get my dear--its none too good for you."
He gave her his goodby kiss with special fondness, put on his heavy satin-lined overcoat and went to the office.
Mr. Solomon Bankside was not a Jew; though his last name suggested and his first seemed to prove it; also his proficiency in the Old Testament gave color to the idea. No, he came from Vermont; of generations of unbroken New England and old English Puritan ancestry, where the Solomons and Isaacs and Zedekiahs were only mitigated by the Standfasts and Praise-the-Lords. Pious, persistent pigheaded folk were they, down all the line.
His wife had no such simple pedigree. A streak of Huguenot blood she had (some of the best in France, though neither of them knew that), a grandmother from Albany with a Van to her name; a great grandmother with a Mac; and another with an O"; even a German cross came in somewhere.
Mr. Bankside was devoted to genealogy, and had been at some pains to dig up these facts--the more he found the worse he felt, and the lower ran his opinion of Mrs. Bankside"s ancestry.
She had been a fascinating girl; pretty, with the dash and piquancy of an oriole in a May apple-tree; clever and efficient in everything her swift hands touched; quite a spectacular housekeeper; and the sober, long-faced young downeasterner had married her with a sudden decision that he often wondered about in later years. So did she.
What he had not sufficiently weighed at the time, was her spirit of incorrigible independence, and a light-mindedness which, on maturer judgment, he could almost term irreligious. His conduct was based on principle, all of it; built firmly into habit and b.u.t.tressed by scriptural quotations. Hers seemed to him as inconsequent as the flight of a moth. Studying it, in his solemn conscientious way, in the light of his genealogical researches, he felt that all her uncertainties were accounted for, and that the error was his--in having married too many kinds of people at once.
They had been, and were, very happy together none the less: though sometimes their happiness was a little tottery. This was one of the times. It was the day after Christmas, and Mrs. Bankside entered the big drawing room, redolent of popcorn and evergreen, and walked slowly to the corner where the fruits of yesterday were lovingly arranged; so few that she had been able to give--so many that she had received.
There were the numerous pretty interchangeable things given her by her many friends; "presents," suitable to any lady. There were the few perfectly selected ones given by the few who knew her best. There was the rather perplexing gift of Mrs. MacAvelly. There was her brother"s stiff white envelope enclosing a check. There were the loving gifts of children and grand-children.
Finally there was Solomon"s.
It was his custom to bestow upon her one solemn and expensive object, a boon as it were, carefully selected, after much thought and balancing of merits; but the consideration was spent on the nature of the gift---not on the desires of the recipient. There was the piano she could not play, the statue she did not admire, the set of Dante she never read, the heavy gold bracelet, the stiff diamond brooch--and all the others.
This time it was a set of sables, costing even more than she imagined.
Christmas after Christmas had these things come to her; and she stood there now, thinking of that procession of unvalued valuables, with an expression so mixed and changeful it resembled a kaleidoscope. Love for Solomon, pride in Solomon, respect for Solomon"s judgment and power to pay, grat.i.tude for his unfailing kindness and generosity, impatience with his always giving her this one big valuable permanent thing, when he knew so well that she much preferred small renewable cheap ones; her personal dislike of furs, the painful conviction that brown was not becoming to her--all these and more filled the little woman with what used to be called "conflicting emotions."
She smoothed out her brother"s check, wishing as she always did that it had come before Christmas, so that she might buy more presents for her beloved people. Solomon liked to spend money on her--in his own way; but he did not like to have her spend money on him--or on anyone for that matter. She had asked her brother once, if he would mind sending her his Christmas present beforehand.
"Not on your life, Polly!" he said. "You"d never see a cent of it! You can"t buy "em many things right on top of Christmas, and it"ll be gone long before the next one."
She put the check away and turned to examine her queerest gift. Upon which scrutiny presently entered the donor.
"I"m ever so much obliged, Benigna," said Mrs. Bankside. "You know how I love to do things. It"s a loom, isn"t it? Can you show me how it works?"
"Of course I can, my dear; that"s just what I ran in for--I was afraid you wouldn"t know. But you are so clever with your hands that I"m sure you"ll enjoy it. I do."
Whereat Mrs. MacAvelly taught Mrs. Bankside the time-honored art of weaving. And Mrs. Bankside enjoyed it more than any previous handicraft she had essayed.
She did it well, beginning with rather coa.r.s.e and simple weaves; and gradually learning the finer grades of work. Despising as she did the more modern woolens, she bought real wool yarn of a lovely red--and made some light warm flannelly stuff in which she proceeded to rapturously enclose her little grandchildren.
Mr. Bankside warmly approved, murmuring affectionately, ""She seeketh wool and flax--she worketh willingly with her hands.""
He watched little Bob and Polly strenuously "helping" the furnace man to clear the sidewalk, hopping about like red-birds in their new caps and coats; and his face beamed with the appositeness of his quotation, as he remarked, "She is not afraid of the snow for her household, for all her household are clothed with scarlet!" and he proffered an extra, wholly spontaneous kiss, which pleased her mightily.
"You dear man!" she said with a hug; "I believe you"d rather find a proverb to fit than a gold mine!"
To which he triumphantly responded: ""Wisdom is better than rubies; and all the things that may be desired are not to be compared to it.""