--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Praigg, D. T. collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 30 number: 2 published: 1926-12 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: "Praigg, D. T., “The Light That Flickered Out,” *Improvement Era* 30, no. 2 (December 1926): 117–125." source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera3002unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera3002unse start_page: 117 end_page: 125 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1926-12) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera3002unse publication_year: 1926 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1926, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # The Light That Flickered Out THE LIGHT THAT FLICKERED OUT By D. T. Praigg "What on earth is the matter, Clara? You haven't been yourself today. You act as if you were expecting1 death rather than a happy marriage. What is the matter?" Mrs. Page folded the newspaper in her hand,; as she spoke, and looked at her daughter. Her face showed surprise and disappointment. It was some moments before Clara met her gaze. When she did speak, it was apparent that it cost her an effort. "Maybe, mother, I'm not going to marry," she said. "Not going to marry? Why, your gown has been ordered and you and Walter have selected ,the attendants. What do you mean?" "I mean I am not fully decided. I told the dressmaker this morn- ing not to cut into the goods for the present." ,Sh« moved her feet back and forth restlessly on the rug as she spoke. "Countermanded the order for your wedding gown? Have you and Walter quarreled?"' Clara looked steadily into her mother's eyes and when she again spoke her voice and manner were decided: "No, we haven't quar- reled, but I've concluded we might not be congenial, and I'm going to ask him to release me when he comes this evening." "Why, Clara Page! Walter Book is one of the finest young men in the city; his family one of the best. He's rising steadily in his profession, too. What has changed you so suddenly? Have you ceased to love him?" Clara Jeaned over and rested her elbows on the table between her and her mother. The struggle going on within her was plainly visible in her countenance. "N-o, I can't say I don't care for him,", she said, "but I am convinced he will try to dominate me and I would have no identity, separate from his." Her voice trembled as she con- cluded: "I never knew until yesterday how fatal such a marriage may be." , Mrs. Page's voice had reached a perceptibly higher key when she replied: "Try to dominate you? No identity separate from his? What on earth do you mean?" "Why, mother, Walter is a Book and I'm a Page. Don't you see I would be enclosed between two boards, as it were, if we should marry. That I wouldn't have a part even in the title!" "Why, you foolish girl! Where did you get that crazy notion?" "It isn't a crazy notion, mother. Hundreds of instances could be cited to show that complete absorption by the husband follows such marriages." , "But where did you get that idea? Who has been talking such nonsense in your presence?" 118 IMPROVEMENT ERA l "It .isn't nonsense, mother. I was at the suffragist meeting yes- terday, when Miss Virgin Hotpace addressed the ladies on the subject of marriage. She cited case after case in which the husband's name was encompassing, and the wife (lost her identity and became miserable." "Oh, fiddlesticks! Another of those fool, new-fangled notions about marriage! And you believe "that stuff, Clara?" "No, it's not a new-fangled idea. Leading scientists have been investigating it for years. One of the first cases that attracted at- tention was the fate of Mary Bloom. She was a talented English lady and she married the Marquis de Nude, and died in a year of a broken heart." "Who told you that story?" "Why, Miss Hotpace gave it as an illustration at the meeting yesterday. And the facts came under her personal observation, too." Mrs. Page looked at her daughter as if, for the moment, she be- lieved her to be insane. A smile of contempt was on her lips when she said: "Clara, Lin ashamed of you. You have right here at home a refutation of that foolishness, and you should have told the lecturer of it. My maiden name, as you know, wa*s Line, but marriage to your father didn't obliterate me. In fact, it has been an inspiration." "Yes, I thought of that when Miss Hotpace was talking, but you and father are different. He never tried to lord it over you." "Who is this Hotpace woman, anyhow?" "She's a suffragist lecturer. Her face is familiar but I couldn't place her. I couldn't help thinking, though, that I had seen her somewhere. But the lecture wasn't all. After the meeting, ^ome of the ladies cited instances right here at home, and I was surprised I had never thought of them before." "Instances? What instances?" asked Mrs. Page. "Well, there was Margaret Tree who married James Pruner. They said her life had been a burden ever since she married and now a divorce is hinted at. Then there was Viola Day. You know she married John Weeks. The ladies said he had dominated her from the very first and the poor thing is simply crushed." "But suppose in these cases it were true. What could the names have to do with it?" "Why, everything, mother! It's the suggestion. Margaret was a Tree, James is a Pruner. His name suggests the exercise of arbitrary power. The same is true of John's name. (She was a Day and he a Weeks. He was seven times more than she was. It's psychological. His superiority is manifest and he uses it tyranically." Mrs. Page was indignant. Her voice was cold and severe when she spoke: "That is utterly foolish! You let a lot of wrinkled old maids and disappointed wives influence you with their foolish theories and you are already miserable." Clara did not quail under her mother's gaze. She set her lips THE LIGHT THAT FLICKERED OUT 119 as if her mind was made up and she would not be deterred from her purpose. She spoke evenly: "But you must remember, mother, that every soul is crying out for liberty, and a girl can't ^afford to take chances in so serious a thing as marriage. She must be guided by common sense in that as in everything else." "But you are not guided by common sense. You are accepting what a lot of crazy people say and your own judgment doesn't ap- prove it." "Ye-s-s, my judgment does, for I would not have been influ- enced had I not known some things outside of what they said. I'm not depending entirely on them." "What do you know outside of what was said at the meeting?" "Well, you remember Gertrude Small! You know she married Horace Muchmore. She wrote to me regularly for three years and then her letters suddenly stopped. I knew something was wrong, but, of course, I didn't know what it was. I am sure that her marriage was unhappy. Then, there was Jessie Hall who married Doctor House. You ;ought to see her now! I met her on the street the other day and I hardly knew her, she was so changed." "What did she say? How did she act to make that impression on ,you?" "It's a thing, mother, you can see but you can't describe. But you feel it the moment you are in her presence. It's an indescribable something that's oppressive. I know now it is the loss of her identity. Doctor House has simply killed the spirit of the Hall." "But don't you know what she said or did to make such an impression?" "Oh, the surface indications were all right! But I could read her between the lines, and could see she was miserable. Of course, she tried to conceal it by talking about the doctor and about their children, a boy and a girl, but I knew all the time she was trying to conceal some deep-seated sorrow." Mrs. Page rose and sighed heavily as she stood beside her daughter. For a moment she seemed to be undecided. Then she spoke: "And you will let a foolish thing like that interefere with your marriage? You are going to break off with Walter?" "Yes, I am. For the present anyway. Josie Bush was at the meeting. She and Will. Wood have been engaged (for a year, but she feels now just as I do — that he would overshadow her and eventually kill all aspirations for development." "But why should Will wish to do that? He would be mis- erable, too." "No, mother, that isn't always true. Tyranny is a part of man's nature. The desire for iron rule is instinctive, and when his name suggests power and the wife's name suggests weakness or inferiority, he harks back to his savage nature and becomes an oppressor." 120 IMPROVEMENT ERA Mrs. Page could not conceal her contempt. "If Josie were a Wood and William were a Bush, she'd be the brute, I suppose, would she?" "Oh, no. Miss Hotpace explained that. She said there is no tyranny in woman. She is sympathetic, yielding, never overbearing or dictatorial. The natures of man and woman are opposite." "But Walter has never been arrogant or tyrannical." "No, not as he appeared in the old light. But I can look back now ,and see where I overlooked symptoms that should have alarmed me. He seems to feel he is a Book and I'm only a Page. As he was leaving last night he said I was so pretty, he almost wished there were other Pages like me." "But he was only joking! .That was just the exuberance of the lover." "Yes, I thought that, too, at the time, but I see it differently in the new light. Why, it wouldn't be a year till he'd be a whole library, and what would a Page be then?" "Are you expecting him this evening?" "Yes, he said he'd be around. He may come any moment, now." "And you are determined to break coff with him?" "I'm going to talk over the whole matter and ask him to release me." "I don't believe I'd do that, Clara. I'd wait a few days, anyhow." "No, mother, I can't do that. Miss Hotpace warned us against delay. She said a girl, who would be true to herself, must speak her mind when once a course was determined on — strike out from the shoulder — as she expressed it." "Miss Hotpace is single, I suppose." "Oh, I guess so! She didn't say she was ever married." "And she impressed you favorably? She seemed contented and happy?" "Well, there was something about her I couldn't fathom, but I can't say what it was. She has traveled a great deal, though, and has observed men and women closely." "I'd guess as much, from what you say of her," said the mother. The attention of Mrs. Page and Clara was attracted by the ringing of the door-bell. A familiar voice sounded in the hall and the door opened and Gertrude Muchmore entered. Clara rushed into her outstretched arms, exclaiming: "Why, Gertrude, where did you come from?" Mrs. Page put her arm around the visitor. "I'm so glad to see you!" she said. "My, how well you look!" "Why, you haven't changed a particle!" said Clara. "Only older, Clara," said Mrs. Muchmore, "but I don't feel it a bit. I was passing through, and got a stopover for an hour just to see you. Horace and I were talking about you and the old days the other night, and he said I must stop and see you. Why did you quit writing to me?" THE LIGHT THAT FLICKERED OUT 121 "Why did you quit writing to me?" laughed Clara. "Did I? Well, if I did, it must have been because your last letter came when little Gertrude was born, and you know what that means, with an older one to look after, too." "You have two children, Gertrude?" asked Mrs. Page. "Yes, and two of the dearest things you ever saw. Oh, but they are a houseful! Horace says he doesn't count any more since the children came, I'm so wrapped up in them; but, of course, that isn't true, though a mother must look after the little ones." "Why didn't you bring them with you?" asked Clara. "Oh, I did! But I didn't know whether you were at home and I left them in the taxi till I could find out. You know I want you to see them." "I'll get them," said Mrs. Page, rising and leaving the room. She returned in a few moments, leading little Margaret by the hand and carrying Gertrude in her arms. Clara sprang to her feet as her mother entered, and took Gertrude from her arms, as she stooped down and kissed Margaret. "Oh, what a little dear!" she exclaimed, holding .Gertrude out in her arms. "What beautiful children!" said Mrs. Page, looking from Margaret to Gertrude. Then she looked at the mother and from her to Clara. "Doesn't she look well, Clara?" she asked. , "She looks just as young as she did when she married. What's the secret of it, Gertrude?" "Oh," said Mrs. Muchmore, "a good, kind husband, two nice children already and a nice home, I guess. Everybody tells me I haven't changed and I guess I haven't." "Why didn't you bring Horace with you?" asked Mrs. Page, taking little Margaret on her lap as she spoke. "He's too busy. We're going to move into our new home next month, and he's superintending the finishing touches. Our cottage got too small and we're building a larger house." "Well," said Mrs. Page, "marriage certainly agrees with you, and I know Horace is proud of you and the children.'' "Yes, he's foolish over them, but that's what he says about me, too." .____ "I saw Jessie on the street the other day. Have you seen her lately?" asked Clara. "Yes, she and the two children spent a week with us in May. The doctor has a large practice and it keeps him going night and day. Jessie is really uneasy about him. She looks younger than I do, though she is two years older. The doctor says she has a dozen irons in the fire all the time, but she goes about the house whistling and singing like a child. She is wrapped up in her home, and happiness just oozes out of her, she's so full of it." Mrs. Muchmore looked at Margaret, who was sitting on Mrs. Page's lap. Her mouth was close to Mrs. 122 IMPROVEMENT ERA Page's ear and she was whispering something. Mrs. Page looked up and smiled. "Yes, dear," she said, "you shall have all you want. We baked some this morning." "Now, Margaret," said her mother, "I told you positively not to ask for anything to eat. We have a whole suitcase full at the station, Mrs. Page." "Never mind, Gertrude," Mrs. Page replied as she rose from her chair, "I want the children to have some of my cookies, and they must take some home with them." "Oh, I guess they're all alike," said the mother. "Just a lot of little beggars till they grow up." Mrs. Page left the room, and as she returned Gertrude slipped down from Clara's lap and held out her hand. Mrs. Page gave her a cookie and she climbed back on Clara's lap. "I was telling you about Jessie," said Mrs. Muchmore. "When the doctor came for her and the children, he told me of her experience with Miss Virgin Hotpace. Jessie went to hear her and recognized her as Minnie Clark. You remember her.. The family lived on West Walnut street, beyond ' the tracks. She failed twice in high school, you remember, and didn't come back after that?" "Oh, is that who she is?" asked Clara. "Yes, that's the Miss Virgin Hotpace who's lecturing now. She sailed out on the platform and began giving advice about marriage and the significance of names, and so on. Jessie was seated near the stage and she got up and asked Miss Hotpace how often she had been married. She didn't answer, and Jessie asked her if she hadn't had three husbands and if all of them hadn't sued for divorce. The audience was thunderstruck. Minnie muttered something about interruptions of her lecture and stumbled through the balance of it, and left the town without staying for the reception." "I heard her lecture and I thought I had seen her somewhere, but I couldn't recall exactly where I had met her," said Clara. "Well, that's who she is," continued Mrs. Muchmore, "but the funny thing was that Jessie went to the reception and was called on to speak. She ridiculed the idea of husband domination and said she had given the doctor two little Houses and, instead of absorbing her, she and the children had about absorbed him." She looked at her watch. "But I must go. I don't want to miss my train." "Don't go, Gertrude," protested Clara and Mrs. Page. "Stay all night." "I do wish I could, but my ticket provides only for a stopover between trains. You come and see us, Clara. We've got the nicest home and lots and lots of nice friends. I know you'd enjoy a visit with us. Horace is just as nice as he ever was, and you know what he was when we married." She turned towards the door as she spoke, but stopped and looked inquiringly at Clara. THE LIGHT THAT FLICKERED OUT 123 "Oh," she said, "I forgot to ask you. How's Walter Book and Julia Tome getting along?" Clara was visibly startled by the ques- tion, but her voice was calm when she replied: "Indeed, I don't know. I never hear him speak of her." "The Tomes live next door to ug. When Julia came home from her visit here last Summer, she was simply wild about Walter. She couldn't talk about anything else. I told her, of course, what a nice boy Walter was in school and what a fine family the Books are, but she stopped talking about him all at once, and I guess nothing came of it. But I really must go! Hurry on, Margaret. You can eat your cookies on the train." Clara accompanied Gertrude to the taxi at the curb, carrying little Gertrude in her arms, and when she returned she took a pocket dictionary from the center table and opened it excitedly, finding the letter for which she was looking, she ran her finger down the list of words. "Tome," she read aloud, "A large book, a weighty volume." She looked up from the dictionary and added, musingly: "That would never do! She'd overshadow Walter and he'd be miserable." She shook her head as she closed the dictionary and replaced it on the table. Mrs. Page returned from the taxi and was followed into the room by Mr. Page. "Would you believe it, William?" asked Mrs. Page, addressing her husband. "Clara has a foolish notion that Walter will try to dominate her, and is thinking of breaking the engagement." "I don't want to be dominated, father, by any man. I want to live my own life as a married woman, just as I live it as a girl." "Are you living your own life now?" asked Mr. Page very quietly. "Why, certainly, I am. Nobody could be freer than J am now. I do just as I please." "But is doing as you please living your own life?" "I don't know what else you'd call it." "Well, I never heard of but one person doing it, and he quit as soon as he could get someone to live with." "Who was that?" she asked with evident interest. "Robinson Crusoe," smiled Mr. Page. Then he added, seri- ously: "Whenever you cultivate social relations, you live the lives of those with whom you associate, and they live yours. Whenever you incur obligations or place others under obligations to you, you live their lives and they live yours." • "But what I mean," protested Clara, "is that I don't want to- be dominated." "But that depends on what you call domination. Man recog- nizes woman today as his intellectual equal and his moral superior, and he makes her a companion, advisor and friend. In the marriage relation the obligation of the wife to live the life of the husband and 124 IMPROVEMENT ERA of the husband to live the life of the wife can admit of no exceptions if they would live happily, for there is no such thing in this world as living one's own life, if one associates with other people; and the closer the relation the more impossible such a thing becomes. Our social, political, religious and business relations are a bar to it, if we follow the path of duty and, if we deviate from that, we can not promise ourselves the respect and confidence of others nor have respect for or confidence in ourselves." "But you do as you please, and mother does as she pleases," argued Clara. "Yes, but I must first know that what I do will not displease your mother, and she must know that what she does will not displease me. We do not sit down and argue this out before taking the step, for we have established a standard of living, one which we know brings us contentment, and we conform to it day by day. We live each other's lives without friction, because we adhere to a common standard and neither will do that of which the other would not approve." "Of course, I know that is true of you and mother, but it depends after all on what kind of a man a girl marries," said Clara. "Not more than on the kind ol girl the man marries," said the father. "Men are very much alike the world over and women are pretty good counterparts of one another wherever you find them. They respond equally to kind treatment, to confidences reposed, and to af- fection lavished upon them, in word and deed, and the happiness of the married state is not more dependent upon one than upon the other." i The doorbell rang and Mrs. Page entered with Walter Book. He shook hands with Mr. Page and Clara, cordially, and laughed as he looked at Clara and said: "Have you heard about Josie Bush's elopement?" "Josie's elopement? With Will?" asked Clara. "No, she broke off with him and eloped with George Naught." "George Naught!" exclaimed Clara. "Not George Naught, Walter?" asked Mr. Page in surprise. "Well, well!" said Clara. "I didn't know he was going with her." "Nobody else, it seems," said Walter. "But she ran away with him last night. Mrs. Bush became hysterical when she found it out and Mr. Bush was furious." "I don't blame him," said Mr. Page, "for there isn't a more shift- less young man in the city." "Will takes it all right, but what mystifies him is the reason she gives for throwing him over," laughed Walter. "She told him, did she?" "She wrote him a letter and he got it by the mail this morning. She said, he being a Wood and she only a Bush, she feared he'd over- shadow her." THE LIGHT THAT FLICKERED OUT 125 "Well," said Mrs. Page, "she need have no fears that George Naught will overshadow her." "I'd say not," laughed Walter, "for he's about as near a cipher as she could ever be." "Josie married to George Naught! I can hardly realize it," mused Clara. : "It is inconceivable," said Walter, "but I guess it's a fact." Mrs. Page rose and turned to leave the room and had her hand on the doorknob when Clara called to her. "Mother, won't you get that sample off the table in your room? I want Walter to see what a pretty wedding gown I've selected." She turned to Walter. "I want you to pass judgment on it, but I know you'll think it pretty," she said. "Why, of course I will, if you think so," he laughed. "And we want you and the attendants to take dinner with us Wednesday evening, and we'll have a rehearsal afterwards." "You want me to catch the time of the wedding march, do you?" "Yes, for we'll have to keep step together, you know." She looked up into his face and laughed. "And keep off of each other's1 toes, of course." He met her laugh with a smile, as Mrs. Page re-entered and handed him a large sample of goods. He took it and looked at it as Clara watched him. Mr. and Mrs. Page smiled and left them alone. Indianapolis, Ind. A Christmas Wish Oh, to have dwelt in the city Of Bethlehem long, long ago; Oh, to have greeted those strangers Who came with steps weary and slow. Oh, to have been near to Mary, Her every wish to attend; Oh, to have whispered sweet comfort, When she was in need of a friend. Oh, to have held my own Savior, A babe in the manger he lay; Oh, to have shown him devotion Which thrills me on his natal day. But ah, these are all vain desires, Such glories were ne'er meant for me ; Around me are other worn pilgrims; I'll help them God's own light to see. There are mothers whose lives may be brightened, And little ones still needing aid. Yes; to serve all mankind brings rich blessings, For them was Christ's sacrifice made. Raymond, Aha, Canada HELEN KIMBALL ORGILL.