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Vol. VIII.

THE FATE OF A BACHE-
LOR.

BY ICHEN E. lll'IXl’IHH).

 

"I‘ls of a mnldcn Indy
()f summers thirty —cight,

And of a poor old buchclor
This story 1 relate.

And if it little morlnl
\Vlthln the story lice,

l' is, that. other sin 'lc dumcs
Should go and do ikcwlse.

'l‘hh innocent old bachelor
(killed on this single dumc,

And who was sweet as she could b '
And he of course the same. ’
lint oh! it vexcd thc righteous hcuit

0! this Iongsut‘i’crlng maid,
To think that men should single be
Because they were afraid.

She spoke, at last, of women's rights;
“l rcullv wish," said he,

“ You hnd 'cm if you want ’cm so.”
“And so do i,“ guoth shc.

“ Suppose you 1) 1y you‘d got you.

rlphts

An' s iow mc how " said he,

“ You'd take ad van age of ‘cm first."
“ 'No igh said 71 will!" quoth slic.

And thcn she took him by the hand,
" Dcnr \Vllllnln Jones,“ she said,

“i want you for u. husbinnd;
“ 1 )h, when shall we be wed!"

And now this poor old bachelor
Docs pcnuncc for his sins,

By wearing thc hymencnl noose,
And taking,r cure of twins.

 

Madcap,
The Little Quakeress;

“It,
The hand t‘ndcl 's Wooing.

A IlonInIn-c ol' lllc Ih‘szl, So-
ciety ol‘ the l’cnn (My.

IIY (‘UlthNiC (‘lih‘llM,r\N,
Ai‘i'llHll or “nuncn nuns ANI) Luna,"
“ win HI" "norm," “iumvu
“Alumni,” 1911:, nut.

(‘ll.\l"|‘lilli I.
“ MLAck fil'llil'l‘ri AND wurrrz."
(‘HLHJIC I'LYIH-I was on hcr way
lmun- from tho l'ztshionnhlc school (It
Mmluinc ll. in Ititicnhousc Squnrc.
Him h.id dcviutcd from tho (lirch
innit», huviug gonc ou-r to'l'wclflhnnd

E. F. Beadle.

William Adams,

1 U;)I.ISHERS.

David Adams.

 

1878.

 

 

One copy, four months, $1.00
TERMS 1N ADVANCE. One copy. one year, . . 3.00  
Two copies, one year, . 5.00 '

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Keep the child quiet a few hours
and she will be as well as ever,” or—
dered the doctor, as he went away.

So the aunts tucked Coralie in, drew
the blinds down, and went out frcm
her chamber on tiptoe. But the girl
could not sleep—could not even he
still-for thinkm of him who had
risked his life forier.

“Would he die?—or worse—be
maimed or an invalid for life?

She crept out of bed, dressed her—
self, pulled up the blind of one win-
dow a little way and sat down by it;
for she could not hear her own
thoughts, and knew she would be re
proved if she went down-stairs before
tea-time. There she sat for two mor—
tal hours brooding over her fears. No
wonder she was ale when she finall y
went down to t e tea-table; or that
her relatives made a fuss over her,
curiously compounding their petting
with an equal uantity of scolding.

“Thee must ave been particu arly
heedleSS, niece, to be in the street
without lookin about thee. Have I
not told thee hat heedlessncss was
by one great fault?”

“ Yes, aunt Priscilla.”

“The child is as white as a sheet.
What took thee out of thy straight
course horned—that did not lie through
Ch stnut street.”

" No, aunt Charity; it was chocolate
creams took me that way—and after
all, I lost them."

"Too much sweets will spoil thy
1e:th.”

"l'll risk them, auntie. George,“—
t) the colored servant—“has the
e .‘cning paper come?”

" We ain‘t got it, missa,” responded
George, who, at the request of Miss
Fcitlierflight, hac. taken the sheet to
ill" kitchen and burned it to prevent
M as Coralie from reading a certain
iicu descriptive of hcr afternoon’s
a 1x cnture and adding that the hero of
it. Cadet Leigh of the steamer Mohawk,
\Vis‘ dcspcratcly injured and lay in
th - hospital unconscious.

li‘catheriiighti Yes, this was the in—
a ipropriate co nomen of the two cl—
d rly Quaker adics who had charge
0‘ our little heroine. The Misses
'F nthcrflight were sedate and serious
t) the last degree. Rich, quaint,
Quakcrish, prejudiced, posili\'e~l)e—
longing to those wry respectable
"lirst families "—drcssed always in
dive-colored silk and sheer muslin
clipsvrrcould there be anythin bettrr
t ltlll they Wore? Their niece lad cu-
?)ryed the incstimablc advantage of

ging roared by them, her arcnts hav-
ingdicd within a your 0 each other,
w ien thcir daughter was a very little

hl:u‘kci lo pl‘iH'lilt‘ in-rsi-li' with a t‘iingindced. Sometimes the irl, in
isu-kngi- of (hos.- costly confections tifiOXllbelande of: youtlilaaid 
lo be found at. Whitman‘s--nom- of at conscious ponci,pu e 501((X'

urulzunc's pupils condesccndcd to pat-
ronizc any cln-upcr pilli'l‘.

Sccuring hcr pound of chocolate—
l'l't‘l‘lllh‘, shc continucd hcr walk back to
(‘hi-stnut strcct, and for a few minutes
Hood in front of thc plutcglnss win-
dows ofu. curtain goldsmith and jcw-
clcr. ’l‘hcre were lovely things on dis—
pluy in those windows~ things which
(,‘orulic covetcd with all hcr heart;
but nothing was there half so prctty
nu herself. At lcast, so thought a
voung fcllow, in unval uniform, who
watched her-mi admiringly as she did
lhc gems.

’l‘herc was a. certain coquettish-
ncss and witchcry in her air—a breczl-
n as»! and airincss of manner which
ithc could no more hclp than she
("illld hpr breathing, for it was inher-
iii-:l from her fathcr, the dead naval
cztplnin.

The glance of her (lurk-gray eyes—
puucrully mistukcu for black bccause
so deepened by tho shadc of thick,
ling lasheswwas bright and free; her
brown, curly hair danced about her
shoulders; hcr chccks‘ wcrc as red as
vcrmeil roses; her lips as sweet and.
r ~:lrlct as strmvlwrries.

(,‘orulic had not stood a moment
looking at a diamond necklace before
she bccame conscious that some one
was watching her. She did not need
to stcnl a look from under her long
cvclnshcq to know that it was the
hands:on cztdct. Not that she knew
his name. Ilc was a stranger to her;
but for scveral days he had actually
dogged hcr foolstcps, as shc wcnt to
and from school, and she was aware
of it.

It was charming to have hcr first
ndmircr! (ioraliu‘s hcart swellcd with
'il'll‘t‘ to think how cnvious the girls
\vould bc, should shc couiidc the
f‘u.‘ u, mm", This ndmircr was a
('illli'l, too nlwuys so iulcrcstlng a
cz-cuturc to girls, and doubly so to our
heroine, bccnuso hcr fnlhcr had be-
lougcd to the navy. Hhc hn_d tnkcn
mow thuu ouo gooi look at lum'whcn
he did not know that she wasdci 'nmg
toolmcrvo him. He appeared o be
twcnty or twcuty onc in ugc; had a.

 

 

 

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1 issly as to break their apron-strings
aid lun e them into despair, but,
u no. y, s e was gentle and sweet to
thkm, while they adored her even
w zen She tormented them most.

“I wish I could see the paper,“
Ciralie reiterated, as she went into
thi. elegant but prim drawing-room
with her aunts. “Oh, Mr. Garwell
I‘m so glad you came! You will tcl
me what they say about the accident,
I know?” she cried, before the ladies
llld time to courteously greet their
c illcr—a youn gentleman of twent '—
right or theretiouts, dressed in sno ‘-
bfsh style and wearing the air of a.
man of the world.

“It is iou who must tell me about
it, Miss ydel Good-evening, ladies.
I come’to inquire, as I see by the pa—

ers—-’

“Do the say he was much hurt?"
broke in oraie, regardless of any-
thin but this terrible suspense.

“' e was struck in the side, I be-
lieve," was the carclcss answer, for a

lance from Miss Priscilla. had warncd

im not to betray the whole truth.
“Miss Clyde, it made me quite ill to
think of your narrow escape.”

Coralie knew perfectly well that
John Gal-well was her lover—at least,
that he was after her and her met-icy
——au(l that her relatives up rovcd
of him. She would have “laug ed in
her sleeve " as he bowed over her
dimpled hand with such an air of un-
speakable devotion—only, she did not
t en feel like laughing. Herthoughts
were all in that cruel hos ital. The
handsome cadet was her are now.
Never, never, never, so long as the
grateful heart in her bosom should
heat would she forget him! Never 1
His image was impressed upon hcr
very soul as she saw him in that
fri htful moment, brave, beautiful,
rir: 'in his life to save hers. Ah! it
was a eroic acti

“ John Garwell is incapable of such
a deed!” she thought, as she looked
at that personage paying COlll't-COIll-
pliments to her aunts. “I detest him
——I know I do; and I admire—110w
that brave, dear fellow—my poor,

poor b0 i I wish I were in the hon-
tluc straight ligm'u, isht hnir that )italb'liis side. It i; oniyn‘ght that
just missed bcing lull‘t‘ HUMP", (I‘ll'k' shou d be there. let, when Iaskcd
lde cvcfl, 11ml ‘1 ‘liiwny “Emma” my aunts to.v take me they wrrc
Ion-Iv lo Hcc; so ol‘ colIrH- hc mtcrest- amazed. I u'ulgo to-morrpw—therci
cl licr cxcccdillifly. Y”, “1‘” had If they choose to go With me, all

"ivcu hiul nocumiurugcmcnt to follow
lwr about; she was nfrmd ihnt it was
inpu-rtiucut in him; hci‘ (iunkcr aunts
li'td l‘curcil lu‘r [on strict y for her to
countenance u. strcct«ihrtation‘ and
s‘ill sho could not find it in hcrucart
to «punk to n policcnuiu about him.
She stood n. few minutes tryini,r to
appear unconscious of his prcscnce,
though the roan-s in hcr choc (8 hr 'nn
tc tlumc; lhcn lurncd and walked.
u'vzu', not too abrupilv.
ltfwas a crisp, bright ()ctolwr day,
and (‘hcstnut slrcct was crowdcd.
(‘urnlic cht along briskly, but hcr
thoughts \vcro prcuccupicd, so that
shc pitid little hecd to things about
hcr. Suddculy shc hcurd loud shouts
nud crios of warning, and stood as if
parulyxcd. A pair of horses attached
1.; oui- ot’ thoso immensi- two-wheeled
druvs pcculiar to thc Quakcrfiity, had
taken fright, and turn dasluugnlong
m u pmilous spccd, connng directl
tawnrd hcr whcre shc stood 'SlODG-Sll
in the middlc of tho crossmg, while
alarmed pedestrians were flying in all
i 'cctions.
d Il‘he runaway team were almost up-
on her, yet she stood actually unab c
to make a. motion. At that instant of

Madcap, the Little Quakeress.

 

righti—if not, I will go alone.

“I wish that tiresome Mr. Garwrll
Would stay at home! Why docs he
came here to-night, to torment ntc‘?
I’ll make him sorry he came—cld
flirt and fortune-hunteri”

At this the old ladies sat down in a
distant part of the room, and her
visitor, approaching her, began:

“Where have your thoughts flown,
Miss Clyde? May I call them back?
Will you think me presumptuous if I
ask that, you give me a large portion
of them? You have nearly all of
mine. Coralie, sweet Coralic,“ ho
whispered, bending close, as it‘ to lock
at the bit of embroidery in her hands,
“I mu getting wild about you. I am
forbidden to speak by our aunts;
but, prudence must 'anis 1 when love
appears. It is cruel to keep me in
suspense all these months. Just
whis )cr—onc little word, that no one
but will hear—can you love 11:0,
sweet?"

“N0!” answered Coralie, not in a.
whisper at all, and laughing a little
nervously. “Don’t ask me such
questions, )lease. I‘m not through
with my so col-books, yet. Ask one

“Became of “rho my dear?" asked the doctor, i about him," replied the doctor, more anxious to - of my aunties—perhaps one of them could be in-
I

 

 

 

 

 

and all became a blank—she had, fainted
Egglngway. Whim Coralie recovered consciousness
she was in bed, with her aunts and the family-phym-
She instantly started up:
Where is he? Oh, What became

  
  
  

   
 
 
   

“1‘1, 1 soothe his patient than to be exact in his statement l duced to say ‘yes ’ to the all-fascinating Mr. Gar-
500 1 g y' -——for it. was not true that the 'ouno gentleman was ; well!“

“The young cadet—the one who tried to save me . , , q _ , , v _ ‘
" ' h htl in ured. He was I) m the hospital at 1 What a tease on are, Corahe still in the low
and went down under the horses' she exDmmed’ ‘ but 8 g J g soft tone of a lovgr. “They want you to marry me:

 A . 3 il some one sprung in front ohthe

 S for saw who it was—saw tuc determined
I face of the unknown cadet—saw him stretch out his i “d .t
hand to grasp the bit of the animal nearest to lnm— c {ya bes e 1 hurt
saw him dragged from his feet, and hurled down ‘  argue
undur the houses; thcn she, herself, was seized from , of huvn,

' r ~' ' that minu e, and the physicians were examining him
 $11139;  not much hurt. Don’t worry and fearing that his left lung was seriously injured. ‘ some day—they have told me so—Some day not so