Wakefield

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  “In some old magazine or newspaper I recollect a story, told as truth, of a man—let us call him Wakefield—who absented himself for a long time from his wife. The fact, thus abstractedly stated, is not very uncommon, nor, without a proper distinction of circumstances, to be condemned either as naughty or nonsensical. Howbeit, this, though far from the most aggravated, is perhaps the strangest instance on record of marital delinquency, and, moreover, as remarkable a freak as may be found in the whole list of human oddities. The wedded couple lived in London. The man, under pretense of going a journey, took lodgings in the next street to his own house, and there, unheard of by his wife or friends and without the shadow of a reason for such self-banishment, dwelt upward of twenty years. During that period he beheld his home every day, and frequently the forlorn Mrs. Wakefield. And after so great a gap in his matrimonial felicity—when his death was reckoned certain, his estate settled...

Bookmark

 

While on a small ladder in my closet looking for Christmas decorations a couple weeks ago, I found two small wooden boxes sitting on a high shelf. I parked them there and forgot about them. The contents of each box contain memorabilia from teenage and early adulthood such as photographs, awards, newspaper clippings, and so forth. One particular item caught my eye so I fished it out: a monogrammed brass bookmark. While I can’t exactly recall from whence it came, I gladly return it to use as I continue my reading adventures. 

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