OCR Interpretation

The Anderson intelligencer. (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, October 25, 1860, Image 1

Image and text provided by University of South Carolina; Columbia, SC

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn84026965/1860-10-25/ed-1/seq-1/

What is OCR?

Thumbnail for

?tohrl aitb lirtets&j Storj.
'I couldn't think of such K thin et
"Butj-ou must, my happiness depends
upon it. Here, put on the thingumbobs,
aud what'b his name."
And my friend, Bob Styles, hcldlup be?
fore my hesitant gaze, a suit of female ap
phrel. His idea was that I should \per
sonato his lady for ono day, to -.prevent
^anybody from suspecting. the truth?
namely, that she had joined him in a run?
away marriage party?until it should be
too later,for interference ; that i?. until the
minister should have tied the. knot be?
tween them, that nothing but; a special
act of the Legislature could untie.
This scheme was hot actually so ab?
surd as it appeared at first sight." . Maggie
Lee was a tall, queenly woman, with al
mosfca masculine air; and at that time I
had OToryslight form, almost effeminate;
so that,-in fact, there was really little dif?
ference on that point. Then I had light
hair, tolerable long, and fresh complexion.
Part my hair in the middle, put my bon?
net on my head, and few ladies' would
have suspected but what I waff one of
their own sex. Those accessories gave
quite a decided resemblance to Maggio,
Lee, especially when, as in this case, the
disguise was her own.
Then the day chosen for a runaway
Jtnatch was an auspicious one. Maggie's
father was to drive to D-,.a small vil?
lage noar where she lived, and thoro she
was to join a sailing, party down D
river, to tho grovo, threo miles below,
from which tho party was to return in the
evening in carriages.
Our plan was, that I should be in wait
ing in the village, and should go on the
boat with the sailing party, while Maggie,
after leaving her father, should slip oft*
with Styles across the country.
At last I got dressed, and presontcd
myself before Maggio Lee, blushing a
great deal, I believe, feeling vory much
pinched about the waist, and with an un
omfortabkreonseiousness that my?shirt
leeves were too short, or wanting alto
Everything finished in the way of toil
Bob Styles took me in his light wagon,
ve me over to D-1?? by a secluded
tc, and left me at the hotel, where" the
H?? Parry wus *? nsseniblo. Several
pic-niccrs were already there, and
greeted my cavalier, cordially, ask-,
he was going with them. He told
*v \o was not,
I W&mg bnsincsa engagements, you
^V, and all that sort of thing. Deuced
S0I\L can't go, though. I had just time
*? ^gM?ss Lee over, and now I'm off.
^ \ibj-, this is Miss Lee. Miss AVith
cr^Y^s kce;"'and ho rattled off a
l?ng %jgv of introductions, Which con
vinceiL ^ few of tho fomaics werc
acquaint yfita tno y0ftUng ].M\y j
person^?a yery fortunate thing for
the pi;e.hation of my d^guisc.
s Mr. B\y?a tjril, legal looking man,
with &MuOS0'.imi eye-glasses, seemed
to be-pre^essed with me, and I over?
heard lmnVjsper t0 Bob Styles, as he
? wei>t qut: Wico looking gal, that Miss
Lee/ \. ? '
, "Tes> \auVed ljob, with a mischiev?
ous glance ;W ?S\XQ \s a njco givi?
? though .a Lp ??? go-ahead sometimes.
Keep a look ^on j,cr.? then lower?
ing Thjs voice!\t % bad match for you.
oldYellqw;^^? ? ?
- '-Is she?'*J#iij:m^y) i,j? jjrterest.decp
.ening:. *, \ *.
* ';Pn myj^ioWe^ied Bob. ."Forty
thousand dollurstlcr.?wn right. Day !
dayJ" and hc_wa\,ne
Maggie, ?rtful Uure that she was,
had told/her fitfheLt the sailing party
was ta* assemble inother hotel, and
thither he had takeL. Having busi?
ness in Bi-^, ho %er ti10r0} mercly
saying that.Yvo woucLd the carriage;
after her *t "twelvej)'^t she, like a
dutiful daughter, ^se\ him, bid him
good-bye, aMbeforAe via(^gone a hnn.
. dred yjirds,.: took a^t in Bob Stvle8?
light-wagon, which bWiveV;up to the
back .door, as old *\ oarage drove
away froni the front Y
As for us of the ic-nic\vC43ionj we
; had a pleasant sail >wn to\^ ^yo, but
somehow I could n; enjoy itL ag
I*gght to have ;dje. WhenY ^ked
o^K?ard the boat | felt awkwaV^ a9 if
?^?rybody was logng at me. '^oun(i
|My/BmTby, as I W expected, a\unfr
Sl^nd^'ising lawyer.Hc insisted on\,?
"lisg for my ticket jdj?fehasing enoiL
ojang^, pears n'^Puies to set up\
'street stand! F(&>r five times I was or
the point %{ swfcng at His impudent
? officiousness, bi^* in>" ^fe^esjust in
'time to prevent0-^085*0- -^^yt was
nbi[with him that I found my roU tH
.hattest,to play.
m the young ladies were the hardest
onest? deceive. For instance, there was
one ardmg them, a beautiful girl of sev
enteenAjust returned from boarding
school, vtfio had not seen Maggie Lee for
threo yeqer. Of coarse she was delighted
with me \vbon she found out that I was
Maggie, wlW by the way, did not occur
until we had\Wted. She threw herself |
into my arms,\ul{ed my veil aside, and
kissed me half Adozen times, 'in a man?
ner that made luVfhiger ends tingle for
half an hour, lyW aU very nice; but
if I had been pru^-ty persona; I should
though I
might issue a
have liked it betteA As it was, I felt
was "oMuning goods under
colors," and tW Lawyer Bimby
warrantor my arrest on
that ground at any monfont.
A whole knot Of criadiuo then sur
rounded mo on the uppcVdcck of the
boai;; to the utter exclusion and eonsc
cment disgust of Mr. Bimbi and other
gentlemen. \
The river breeze was very n^sh where
we sat, and I noticed that scve\? of the
ladies wore glancing uneasily a\ me. I
couldn't divine the reason nntilVennic,
my little- friend from boarding vhool,
laid her face dangerously close to\iine,
md whispered:
?3iy (Teai* Maggie, your dress is bW.
iug .up terribly high?your ancles wilLc
the town talk with -t hegen tlemcu." \
Now I was conscious of having a veti
small foot for a man, and had donrieid ;
pair of openwork stockings which cnmc\
nearly to my waist, with a pair'of gait?
ers borrowed from the servant girl, in all
jf which toggery my running gear look
ing 'iptlte respectable; but the idea of
gditTeinen talking, about my ancles and
of btinglcautioned thus by a young girl,
who w?hld have been frightened to death
if I had told her the same thing yester?
day, was too much for mo, and I burst, in?
to a sortiof strangled laugli, which I could
only Chcpk by swallowing half of nn
filigree handkerchief. The young ladies
loqko d afhnc in apparent astonishment,
and I waited to laugh all the more. For
tunal;ely..Ir. Bimby came to my rescue
at the ijomont, and edged himself in
amomg thl crinoline.
"May Ijit here?" he asked pointing to
a low stoo near me.
"Certair y," I simpered in my high
"Ah, tli? tk you," said Bimby?with a
lackaduisic 1 air. which nauseated roe as
coming fix i man to another?"you are
arc fascinating."
er me
"Ii' no iileed, praise of you cannot be
flattery, Ml> Lee."
"An, sir,|ou are very naughty,'-'^j>aid
I, in the mdt fcmi.iiuc tone I could ccm
lie cast akiugnishing glance at me, and
I fairly begi to feel for his feelings.
"We soonnrrived at the grove, and
found our |nd?engaged beforehand?
awaiting us.jOf course dancing was the
first amuscniit, and Lawyer Bimby led
mc out for Ischottischc. It was hard,
but I soon gl accustomed to it. When
a waltz was joposcd, I resolved to have
a little amus^icnt at tho expense of the
u n fort u n a to. luiby.
Iliad first lade hinvproperly jealous,
by dancing iv;h two or-three young fel?
lows, one oHhom I knew in my own
character, b$ who ne\ei suspected me as
Maggie Lee.j This yotnr man is a great
woman-kille}?a sort d* easy, devil-may
care rascal, a|Iio made he ladies run after
him by his alternate varmth of action
and coolness If prosecujon; him I selec?
ted to play of, against iy legal admi rer.
I allowed himjto hold ic very close!)',
and occasionaMy looked* t him with a
half fascinating cxprcsW When we
kind as yo
"You fla
st uped danciig lie led he to my goat,
keeping his am tightly nnd my waist,
and I permitted it. Havtr thus stirred
Jiimby unto feats of wilful valor, 1
asked one of ths gcntlemefto direct the
musicians to piny a walta. Bimby came
immediately. . \
"Ahem?a?Miss Lee, eld I have the
honor of?a?trying a walti-ith you ?"
I smiled a gracious acquWnce, and
we commenced. Now, I ami old stager
at waltzing; I can keep it uingCr. than
any non-professional dancer, hie or fe?
male, that I ever met. As ^g as the
Sehonuebrunn rings in my oau can go
on, if it is for a year. Not soiraby; he
.pleaded want of practice, and ljicknowl
odged that he soon got dhsj "Aha,
old boy," thought I, "I'll give i a turn,
then." But I only smiled, aud^id that
I should get tired first.
"Oh, yes," he exclaimed, "of Lrsej I
can waltz as long as any one yol lady;
ibut not much longer."
V For three minutes my chcvar ^
w\M. He went smoothly andLnry .
butSt the expiration of that timle De!
gan to grow warmi Five minutes elapsed,
and Bimby's breath came harder and
faster. On we went, however, and I
scorned to notice his slackening up at.
every round as wo passed my seat. After
some ten or twelve minutes, the wretch?
ed man gasped out between his steps:
"Ah?a?are fjm not get?getting tired?"
"Oh, no," I burst forth, as coolly as if we
were riding round the room. "Oh, no; I
feel as if I could waltz all night."
The look of despair that ho gave was
terrible to see. I'was bound to see him
out, however, and we kept at it. Bimby
staggered and made wild steps in all di?
rections. His collar wilted, his 03-08 ppr
truded. his jaws hung down, and altogeth?
er, I saw he could not hold out much lon?
"This is delightful," I said, composedly,
"and you, Mr. Bimby, do waltz so easily!"
" Ah, puff?puff?yes?oh?puff?very
delightful," gasped he.
"l)on't you think we ought to go a lit?
tle faster V
He rolled his eyes heavenward in ago
ony. So when we neared the musicians,
I said "Faster, if you please ;" and they
played a la whirlwind. Poor Bimby
threw his feet about like a fast pacer, and
revolved after the manner of a teetotum
that was nearly run down. At last he
staggered a step backwards, and spinning
eccentrically away from me, pitched head?
long into a.bevy of ladies in a corner. I
turned round coolly, and walking to my
scat, sent the young woman-killer for a
large glass of ice water.
The miserable lawyer recovered his sen?
ses just in time tb see me tliank his rival
\r the glass of .water. I got. some idea
fftm this of the fun young ladies find in
to\nunting us prior fellows of the other
scx\ At this juncture, and before Mr.
Bimbyhad time to apologize, for his acci?
dent, li.Oc Jennie came miming Into the
room- j\s she came near me I perceived
that Ifer hands clutched closely in her
dress, And positively shuddered as she
whisper^ to me, " Oh Maggie, come and
help mo^x my skirts?they arc coming
I said Hwas tired; " could not some?
body else ;u ? "
"iso. notiing would do but I must ac?
company (er to the house of a gentleman
who owne\ the grove, and assist her to
arrange he\ clothing. So I went. What
if it shouldbe necessary to undress the
greater pai\ of her raiment? What if,
in tho miUsrbf all the cmharrassment ot
being closetel with a beautiful girl of sev?
enteen, in a s\itc of 'comparative freedom
from drapeiyjmy real sex and identity
should be discovered by her? I felt as if
an apoplectic ft would be a fortunate oc?
currence to ify just then. However, I
nerved myself Vor the task, and accom?
panied Jennie ,0 the house designated.
An old huh' shaved us into her chamber,
and Jennie heavng a sigh of relief, let go
her dress. As sie did so, a?pardon my
blushes?a petticoat fell to the lloor. She
was about to proved, but I alarmed her
by a sudden and \yhcment gesture.
" Stop !" I cried frantically, forgetting
my falsetto; " Doi't undress, for God's
" And why not ? \
" Because 1 am?ein you keep a secret?"
" Why. yes. Howrtfghtened you look.
Why, what's the matter ??Maggfc?you
?you?why?oh ! oh! oh ! " ' And she
gave three fearful screens.
" Hush; no noise, orT am lost." I ex?
claimed, putting niy haul over her mouth;
?; I mean you no harm."
So was all of a tremble. >>oor little thing,
but she saw the force of ny argument.
" Oh. sir," she said. " I see you are a
man, but what does it all mean? Why
did you dress so? " \
I told her the whole story as briefly as
possible, and exacted fron her a promise
of tho most sacred secrcsy I then went
out of the door and awaited till she had
arranged her dress, when she called me in
again and we had a long talk, which ended
in a mutual feeling of friendliness and old
acquaintanceship quite wonderful for peo?
ple meeting for the first time. Justus we
started to go back to the pavilion, 1 said
I must relieve my mind of one more bur?
" And what is that ? " she asked.
"Those kisses. You thought I was
Maggie Lee, or you would not have given
them. They were very sweet, but I sup?
pose I must give them back."
And I did. She blushed a good deal,
but she didn't resist nie, only when I got
through she looked timidly up and said:
' I think you are real knaughty, anyhow.'
When wo returned we found Lawyer
Bimby quite recovered from his dizziness,
and all hands ready for supper, which was
served up in the ball room. I sat between
Bimby and Jennie, and made love to both
of them in turn?to one as Maggie Lee,
to the other as myself. After supper, at
which I astonished several by eating
rather more heartily than young ladies
generally do, -we had more dancing, and I
hinted pretTty strongly to Mr. Bimby that
that I should like to try another waltz.
Heilidn't take the hint,. Pindingitrather
dry amusement to dance with my own
kind, I soon abandoned that pleasure, and
persuaded Jennie to stroll off, into the
moonlight with me. "We found the grove
a charming place, full of picturesque little
corners and rustic seats." and grey rocks
leaning out over the river. On one of
these latter, a little bench was placed in
a nook sheltered from the wind and from
any sighu.
Here we sat down inytho full: flood of
moonlight, and having just had dinner, I
felt wonderfully in need- of a' cigar. Ac?
cordingly, I went bade to a little stand
near the ball room and purchased several
of the wonderful woman.that sold refresh?
ments. .Then returning to the seat by the
rocks, I gave up all cares of fears of my
jneognitO', and revellech; in the pleasures
of. solitude, the fragrance of my cigar, the
moonlight and little Jennie's presence.
llow long wo sat there, Heaven alone
knows. We laughed and talked and sang,
looked in each other's eyes,and told for?
tunes and did all the nonsensical opera?
tions cotr.mon"amongst young people just
falling in love with each other, and might
have remained there until the month of
November, in the year, of our Lord eigh?
teen fifty-seven, for aught I kuowr had
not carriages been sent to convey us
home, and tbe rest of the company began
to think where we had gone.
At length they hit upon the path, and
nil came along single file until they camo
to the open space above. Then they saw
a sight! I was spread cut in a free and
easy position, my bonnet taken off; and
my hair somewhat towzled up. One foot
rested on the ground, and the other on at,
rock about level with my head, (regard?
less of ankles that time,) and there I sat
puffing away in a very lady-like style, at
a light flavored Concho. Jennie was sit?
ting clos?i beside me, with her head almost
upon -my shoulder, and her small waist al?
most enci rcled by my arm. J ust as the
party came along above, I laughed out in
a loud masculine voice.
"Just:think of poor what's his name
there?Bimb}*! Suppose he knew ho had
been making love to a man \ "
" Hush!" cried Jennie. " Look!?there
ho is! oh! 1113* gracious! there is the
whole company!"
Yes, we were fairly caught. .It was of
no use foir me to clap on my bonnet, and
asHume fidsotto again?they had all seen
too much for that; Besides, by this time
Bob Styles and Maggie Lee were doubt?
less " on 2 flesh," and my disguise was of
no importance, so I owned up and told
the story.
Lawyer Bimby was in a rage; he vowed
to kill mo, and even squared off; but the
rest of the company laughed at him so
unmercifully, and suggested that we
should waltz it out together, that he final?
ly cooled down, and slunk away to take
some private conveyance back to D-.
Bob Styles and I arc, living in a large
double house together. He often says ho
owes his wife to my masquerading, but
he doesn't feel under any obligations to
me, for I owe my wife to the same thing!
N. B.?My wife's name is Jennie. ?
Woman.?Perhaps a more just and
beautiful compliment was never paid to
woman than the following, by Judge Story.
"To tli e honor, to the eternal honor of
the sex. he it said, that in the path of du?
ty no sacrifice with them is too high or
too dear. Nothing with them is impossi?
ble, but to think from what love, honor,
innocence, and religion require. The
voice of pleasure or of power may pass
unheeded?but the voice of affliction nev?
er. The chamber of the sick, the pillow
of the dying, the vigils of the dead, the
altars of religion, never missed the pres?
ence or the sympathies of woman.
Timid thought she be, and so delicate
that the winds of Heaven may oft too
roughly visit her, on such occasions she
loses all sense of danger, and assumes a
preternatural courage, which knows not,
fears not consequences.'-Then she displays
that undaunted spirit which neither courts
difficulties or evades them; that resigna?
tion which neither murmurs or regrets;
and patience in suffering which socms vic?
torious over death itself. *
Imperfectness in Good Men.?Exam?
ples ought never to pass for laws. Men
are too subject to infirmities to serve for
copies for others to follow. In the great?
est virtues there will be eternally some
mixture of imperfection, and a man is
in danger of taking his example from the
blind side he discovers. -But reason and
justioe can never mislead him,
Slanders, issuing from red and beautiful
lips, are like foul spiders crawling from
the blushing heart of a rose.
? " - *'
Selected |jffdrjr.
ftrtteJiappm'esi is always'iieaf,.
Although so seldom found;
Enough of good the heart to cheer
Doth everywhere abound?
And if we only reason Tight,
Our ceres and sorrows all are light;
What though a cloud je on the ?ky,
Or hides the aim's bright beams;
1 'Tis but a shadow passing by
Through which the light still gie?rirt*?
Shadows and clouds soon pas/away,
And leave a fair and pleasant day.
Bo with the transient pains of life
That often rend our hearts,'
And makes this world a scene of strife
That scarce a joy imparts?
Our trials, rightly understood,
, Are ever sent us fur. our goud.
?We oft destroy our peace and joy,
And spoil our best repose',
When vexing cares our minds employ,
Or vain, fictitious woe??
Wo mourn in sorrow and distr^s,
When we might share true happiness.
True happiness is everywhere,
And every leaf and flower
That bcautiiies this earth so fair,
Seems to possess a power
To make the human heart more blest,
And give the troubled spirit rest*.
There's happiness enough on earth
For all its woes and pains ;
And he who gave our spirits birth,
Ne'er placed us hero in vain,
But gave us hearts to love and bless
The source of all true happiness,
ITow to do Good.?A quaint writer
gives a short and easy method of doing
good, which will be as effectual as could .
be adopted. He says "Why do you bo
gin to do good so far off ? This is a Till?
ing error. If you do not love your' wife,
do not pretend to such lovo for tho people
of the antipodes. If you let some family
grudge, some pocadillo, somo undesirable
gesture, sour your visage towards a sister
or a daugter, pray cease t? preach bene?
ficence on a large scale. Begin not next
door, but wjj?iin your ^own door, with
your ncxT. neighbor, whether relative, ser?
vant or superior. Account the man you"
meet, the man you are to bless. Give
him such things as you have.Tf.'HowJcan
I mako him or her happier ??This is the
question. If advice will do it, give ad?
vice. If chastisement will do it, give
chastisement. If a look, a smilo, or warm.
pressure of the^hand^or tear will do it,
give tho look, smile, hand or tear. But
never forget the happiness of our world is
a mountain of golden sands,randTthat it is
your part to cast some contributary atom
every moment. ? There is as much phi?
losophy and sound morality, beautifully
expressed in these few words as there is
in a volume of sermons. Let every- one
practice the rule laid down, and see how
soon the opportunities for doing good will
present themselves?how. much more sat?
isfaction he will feel in himself?how much
better he will be satisfied with tlw world
and tho world with him. The common
duties of life are those which are most of?
ten passed over with inattention; and yet
tho whole happiness of our lives, and
those connected with us, depend i essen?
tially upon their performance. They
show the true temper of our virtue, and
as i:hey are well or badly performed, pro?
mote orxlestroy that peace or perfect sat?
isfaction of mind in which true happiness
Life.?Men rejoice when the sun is ris?
en, they rejoice iiftb* when it goes down,
while they are unconscious of the decay of
their own lives. Men rejoice on seeing
the face of a new season, as at the arrival
of one greatly desired. ^Nevertheless, the
revolution of seasons is the decay of hu?
man life. Fragments-of drift-wood meet?
ing in the wide ocean, continue together
a little space; thuafcparents, wives, chil?
dren, relatives, friends and riches, remain
with us for a short time?then separate,
and the searation is inevitable. No mor?
tal cart escape the common lot; he who
mourns for departed relatives has no pow?
er to cause them to return. One stand?
ing on the road would readily say to a
number of persons passing by, I will fol?
low you. Why, then, should a person
grieve' when journeying the same road,
which has been assuredly trodden by all
his forefathers ? Life resembles a cataract
rushing down with itTesistable impetuosi?
ty. Knowing the end of life is death, ev?
er}' right-minded man ought to pursue
that which ? counected with ultimate
"SVeath is not acquirod, as many persons
suppose, by fortunate speculations and
splendid enterprises, but by the daily
practice of industry, frugality and econo?
my. Ho who relies upon these means
will rarely be found desitnte, and whoso?
ever relies upon any other will generally
beoome bankrupt.
The Bream of Life.
"We extract the following pleasing pas?
sage from "The J)ream of Life," by Ike
Marvel. Bickens, in his happiest vein,
never wrote anything better:
Benedict the Married Man.?"You grow
unusually amiable and kind; you are ear?
nest in your search Of friends; you shake
hands with your office boy as if he were,
your second cousin. You joke cheerfully,
with the stout washer-woman; and give
ber a shilling over change, and insist upon
herkeeping.it; and grow- quite, fuerry at
the. recollection of it. You tap your
hackman on the shoulder very familiarly^
and tell him he is a capital fellow, and
don't allow lum to whip his horses, except
when^ driving to the Post-office. You
even ask him to take a glass of beer with
you upon some chilly evening. You
drink to the health of his wife?where?
upon you think him a very miserable
man, and give him a dollar by way of
"You think all the editorials m the
morning "papers arc remarkably well writ?
ten?whether.upon.your side or upon the
other. You wonder why you never ad?
mired Mrs. Hemans before, or Stoddard,
or any of the rest. M
" You give a pleasant curl to your fin?
gers, as you saunter along the street.'
and say?but not so loud as to be over?
heard?'She is mine?she is mine!'
"You Avouder if Frank ever-loved Nel?
lie one half as well as you love Madge.
You feel quite sure he ne'vef did. Yqn
can hardly conceive how it is, that Madge
has not been seized before now by score?,
of enamored men, and borne off, like the
Sabine women in Bomish history. Yon
chuckle over your future, like a boy who
has found a guinea in groping for sixpen?'
cos. You read over the marriage, ser?
vice?thinking of the time when> you
Avill take her hand, and slip the ring up?
on her finger, and repeat after the clergy
man?'for richer?for pooror; for bet?
ter?for Avorse!' A great deal of *wors^ -
there will be about it you think I
"Through all, your heart cleaves to that
SAveet imrfgeof the beloved Madge, as light
deaveirto dayr- Sh?jvceks leap with a
bound; and the months only., grow long
when you approach that day which is -tg^
make her yours. There are1 no flowers
rare enough to'make boquets for her, dia?
monds are too dim for her to wear; pearls
are tame.
"-And after marriage, the Avceks
are even shorter than before. You won?
der why on earth all the single men in
the world do not rush tumultuously to
the altar; you look upon, them all, as a
travelled man will look upon some, con?
ceited Dutch boor, Avho has never been
beyond the limits of his cabbage garden.
Married men, Oti. the contrary, you re?
gard as felloAV voyagers; and look upon
their AvivcB^ugly as they maybe, as bet?
ter than nohU
"You blush a little at first telling your
butcher what 'your wife' would like; yon
bargain Avith the grocer" for sugars and
teas, and Avonder if he knows that you
are a married man. You practice your
new A\-ay of talk upon your office boy;
you tell him that 'your" Avife' expects you
home to dinner; and are astoniskeel that
he does not stare to hear you say it!
? "You wonderif the people in the omni?
bus know that Madge and you are just
married; and if the driver knoAVS that
the shilling you hand to him is for 'self
and Avife!' You Avonder if anybody was
ever so happy before, or ever will be so
happy again!
"You enter your name upon the Hotel
books as 'Clarence-an^d Lady,J|0pnd
come back to look at it?Avondering;^.
anybody else has noticed it?and think?
ing that it looks remarkably well. You
cannot help thinking that cvory - third
man you meet in the hall, wishes he pos?
sessed your Avife?nor do you think.it
very sinful in him to Avish it. You fear it
is placing temptation in the way of covet?
ous men, to put Madge's little gaiters out?
side the chamber-door at night/
"Your home, when it is entered, is just
what it should be: quiet, small, with ev?
ery thing she Avishes, and nothing more
tiian she wishes. The sun strikes it in
the happiest possible way; the piano is
the SAveetcst toned in the world; the li?
brary is stocked to a charm, and Madge,
that blessed AA-ife, is there, adorning and
giving life to it all. To think, even^pf
her possible death, is a suffering you class
Avith thejmferoal tortures of the inquisi?
tion. You grow tAvain of heart and of
purpose. Smiles seem made for marriage;
and you wonder how you ever.wore them
The Bank of England uses in her jw
counts no less than 60 folio ledfl""^ fiUod
up completely every dar- 28,000 bank
notes are thrown ^'dail7? ?& all so reg*
istered that. ^ abstraction of a single
nof ? ? ^aowed by immediate detection'.

xml | txt