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206 The Indian Advocate.
fancy a slender, pale girl whom he had protected in a rough but kind fashion. He tried to recall the old feeling, but his mind was with his books, and the monks in their sombre dress seemed to come between his thoughts of her and his own consciousness. 'Matilda has forgotten me, I have no doubt. If she's been as busy with her books as I have been with mine, she cannot recall the color of my eyes. I know I can't think of her at all correctly." ' "She's not pretty," Mrs. Mentz said, "but she's right peart on foot, and she's of high standin' in the church. She's alius askin' after you, and it haint like a Mentz, or a Luckett either, to be fickle." "Hush, hush!" said farmer Mentz. "I don't want Sherry tied down with woman's notions. A pretty congressman's wife Matilly 'd make." "I'm only seventeen, and I think a little time can pass be fore I become a married man," Sheridan remarked decisively. The next term came and Sheridan's letters were more pol ished, more earnest, and, if the old folks could have analyzed the phase, gave them so much pleasure they would have found it allied to devoutness. He told of the monks, and which father was especially kind to him, of the pleasant rooms and the sweetness of the blessed peace that abided in the college rooms. The old farmer planned a reception for his son on his sec ond return. All the youths of the neighborhood were-present, and Matilda, neatly dressed in white, stood by- Mrs. Mentz's side, while every one commented- on how lucky she was to be promised to a boy of Sheridan's prospects. It seemed to Sheridan like a pandemonium after the silence of the school, and his erect bearing, his few remarks, left people to think he was grown proud and scornful. The time passed and Sheridan took his place in the school again. There was one father, a noble-browed, blue-eyed man,