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Show CONDENSED 1 ' I CLASSICS & ! f JANE EYRE t & $ t i Y Br CHARLOTTE BRONTS j I X Condensation hy O T. L. Hood oj Hanaid Unten-tu -r-t. rsr Charlotte Bronte nlNter of Emily and Anne Bronte. Tvn born April 21. 1S1U. and died March 31, 1S55. Their father rwnn an Irishman of poor health and eccentric xr a 7 n. Their mother died Trheo the children were younc, and they were left to bring: thrmNelves I up In a bleak and aolitary h o n s e, close to the churchyard, their only nolnce an Intense In-tense enjoyment make-believe. Deaths In the family, .torrow and tribulations of all kinds, the atruKKle to make a way tn the world by teaching and serving as governess, gov-erness, the necessity of acting as mother to the family, all yrere a part of the Intense life of Charlotte. In 1S4Q the three Bisters issued a smnll volume of poems under the names of Cnrrer. Ellis nnd Acton Bell. 'The book vrns hardly noticed at the -time. The three sisters each bejcan a - " novel. "Emily's ""VVntherlnfr Heights" and Anne's "Affiles Grey" fonr.d publishers, pub-lishers, but "The Professor" of Charlotte Char-lotte remained unaccepted until she had made her name famous vrlth other works. She threw herself into the composition com-position of "Jane Eyre," which was published in 147. It took the reading: public by storm; the literary sensation of the day was "Who Is Currer Bell?" The answer did not come till "Shirley" bad been published in 1S49, when the author became a part of the great world of letters. "VUlette." her Inst book, came In 1S53. The next year she was married to the Rev. Mr. Niehollsi she died the year after, when success and happiness should have crowned her life. Beginning with the life by Charlotte's Char-lotte's friend, Mrs. Gnskell. the three , aisters have been the subject of innumerable in-numerable books and articles. AT HER very birth Jane Eyre was left in the cold lap of charity. Her cunt-in-law, Mrs. Beed of Gateshead Hall, kept the orphan or-phan ten years, during which she was subjected to such hard, fixed hatred that she was glad enough to be packed off to Lowood school, a serai-charitable institution for girls. Her career there was very honorable; honor-able; from a pupil she became a teach-.-- -er. She left it to Iiecome governess of Adela Varens, the ward of Mr. Edward Ed-ward Rochester, at Thornfield Manor. There she thoroughly liked her situation: situa-tion: The grand old house; the quiet library; her little chamber; the garden with its huge chestnut tree ; and the reat meadow with its array of knotty thorn trees, strong as oaks. If Mr. Rochester had been a handsome, hand-some, heroic-looking young gentleman, Jane could never have felt at ease with him. But he was a sombre, moody man, with broad and jetty eyebrows, eye-brows, decisive nose, and grim, square mouth and jaw ; and in his presence the plain little governess felt somehow happy. Tet his character was beyond her penetration ; she felt a vague sense of Insecurity. He confided to her that Adela Varens Va-rens was not his child, but the daughter daugh-ter of a Parisian dancer, who had deceived de-ceived him, and deserted the little girl. So much he told her; but of the strange shadows that passed over his happiest moments, of his apparent affection af-fection for Jane Eyre along with his withholding from her some secret txief, she could make nothing. Then there came most mysterious happenings to Thornfield. One night I Jane Eyre found the door of Mr. Roch- I aster's room open, and his bed on fire. I She managed with great difficulty to i quench the flames, and rouse him from I the stupor into which the smoke had I plunged him. He advised her to re- main silent as to the affair. I Later a Mr. Mason, from Spanish ! Town, in Jamaica, arrived at Thorn field while Mr. Rochester was entertaining enter-taining a large party. That night Jane was awakened by a cry for help. When she reached the hall, the guests were aroused. Mr. Rochester, candle In hand, was descending the stairs from the third floor. "A servant has had a nightmare," night-mare," he said. I Thus he persuaded the guests back I Into their rooms. But all night Jane ' was obliged to attend Mr. Mason, who I lay In a bed on the third floor, badly i wounded in the arm and shoulder. I ' From scattered hints June gathered I that a woman had inflicted the wounds. I A doctor was summoned, and before morning Mr. Rochester had spirited the 1 wounded man away in a coach, with I the doctor to watch over him. I Then Jane was suddenly summoned I to Gatheshead, to her aunt. Mrs. Reed. I who lay dying. Mrs. Reed gave her a 1 letter. It was from John Eyre. In Ma- I detra, asking that his niece. Jane Eyre. come to him, that he might adopt her. as he was unmarried nnd childless. It was dated three years back. Mrs. Reed had never attempted to deliver it to Jane Eyre, because she disliked her too thoroughly to lend a hand in lifting her to prosperity. When Jane returned to Thornfield. Mr. Rochester proposed to her; and bo-cause bo-cause she loved him and believed in him, she accepted. A month later, nt the wedding, when the clergyman's lips were unclosed to ask, "Wilt thou have this woman for thy wedded wife?" in the gray old house of God, a distinct and near voice spoke la the silence of the empty church : "The marriage cannot go on : I declare de-clare the existence of an impediment." Asked by the clergyman for the facts, the speaker showed a document to prove that Mr. Rochester had married mar-ried Bertha Mason, fifteen years before, be-fore, in Spanish Town, Jamaica; and produced Mr. Mason to witness that the woman was alive and at Thornfield. Thorn-field. Edward Rochester confessed hnrdily and recklessly that he had married, as the lawyer asserted : that his wife was still living; and that he had kept her secretly at Thornfield for years. She was mad : and she came of a mad family; idiots and maniacs for three generations, ne had been inveigled into the marriage by her family, with the connivance of his father and brother, broth-er, who had desired him to marry a fortune. He invited the clergyman, the lawyer, and Mr. Mason to come up to Thornfield and see what sort of a being be-ing he had been cheated into espousing, espous-ing, and judge whether or not he had a right to break the compact. At Thornfield he took them to the third story. In a room without a window, win-dow, there burnt a fire, guarded by a high nnd strong fender, and a lamp suspended from the ceiling by a chain. A trusty maid servant bent over the fire, apparently cooking something. In the deep shade, nt the further end of the room, a figure ran backwards and forwards. What It was. at first sight, one could not tell; It grovelled, seemingly, seem-ingly, on all fours; it snatched and growled like some strange wild animal; ani-mal; but it was covered with clothing; and a quantity of dark, grizzled hair, wiid as a mane, hid its head and face. "That is my wife," said Mr. Rochester. Roches-ter. Then all withdrew. That night Jane stole away front Thornfield. The few shillings that she possessed she gave to the driver of the first coach she saw. to take her as far as he would for the money. Thirty-six Thirty-six hours later he let her off at a crossroads in the moorlands. Into the heather she walked. That night she ate bilberries, and slept under a crag. Two days later, famished and drenched, she was taken into Marsh End, the house of Rev. St. John Rivers, n young and ambitious clergyman in the neighboring village of Morton. His two sisters. Mary and Diana, were more than kind to Jane. They were soon to return to their work as governesses gov-ernesses in a large south-of-England city. St. John secured employment for Jane as mistress of the new girls' school in Morton. His plan was to become be-come a missionary in India. He asked Jane to become his wife and go with him. But something kept her from consenting: he did not really love her; he felt the call to missionary work, but she did not. Then he discovered for her that her uncle had died, leaving her 20.000. This was confirmed by Mr. Briggs. the solicitor in London. She discovered, too. that the mother of St. John and Mary and Diana had been her father's sister, so that they too should have been heirs to her uncle in Madeira. She insisted on a division of the legacy with them. One night St. John was pressing her for her final decision. The one candle was dying out: the room was full of moonlight. She heard a voice from somewhere cry "Jane ! Jane ! Jane !" Next day she was on her way to Thornfield. In thirty-six hours she arrived ar-rived at "The Rochester Arms." two miles away. With much misgiving she walked up to Thornfield to find only a blackened ruin. Back at the inn she learned that Thornfield Hall had burned down about harvest time in the previous year. The fire had broken out in the dead of night. Mr. Rochester had tried to rescue res-cue his wife. She had climbed onto the roof, where she had stood, waving her arms, and shouting out till they could hear her a mile off. Mr. Rochester Roches-ter had ascended through the skylight. The crowd had heard him call, "Bertha "Ber-tha !" They had seen him approach her; and then she had yelled.' nnd given giv-en a spring, and the next minute she had lain dead on the pavement. Mr. Rochester had been taken from the ruins, alive, hut sadly hurt; one eye had been knocked out, and one hand so crushed that the surgeon had had to amputate it directly. The other eye inflamed; he lost the sight of that also. ne was now at Ferndean, a manor house on a farm he had, about thirty miles off; quite a desolate spot. There Jane found him, sad, helpless and crippled. crip-pled. She married him. Eventually the sight returned to his eye so that when his first-born was put into his arms he could see that the boy had inherited his own eyes, as they once were large, brilliant and black. On that occasion, with a full heart, he acknowledged that God had tempered judgment with mercy. DJnna and Mary Rivers were both married soon after, and alternately, once a year, came to visit Jane and Mr. Rochester. St. John Rivers left for India, to labor until called at length Into the joy of his Lord. Copyright, I91i. by the Post Publishing Co. (The Boston Post). |