Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1846-05-21
MONTPELIER, THURSDAY, MAY Fl, 1916.

pocket handkerchief, aud wped--frst his ewes.
poor fellow and then his forehead
-" Goodness me, how 90 run on, to be sure =
Whnt was going to say, though, was this--that
the understandings of women are acknowledged TO
come sooner to maturity than the UNDERSTANDINGS
oil men and that, in my opinion, whore experience
may be wanted and reason fails in these affairs of
The heart, instinct may be safely trused-the holv.
INC unquenchablc instinct of womans nature! as
iather himself calls it-for, after all, what can
woman ever know Of a man beyond what he NAV
choose to tell her.
1.-THE jade p
"Did you speak, father?o
Yes, my child" looking at her with eyes brm
iul, and heart running over. And then he drew
her upon his knee, and putting one arm round her
waist, pointed to the following postscript
" am no longer a child Martha. Heghom
roor Julia! The sight Of those few words--on-
~ light IN the whole-was like flash of lightning
TO the benighted traveller 1t showed her where
she was, the path she had lett, and the precpces
all about her.
HVeIythng was clear now. She remembered
e"esEiiung, she saw everything All that she had
ever whispered, written, or thought amiss in all
her life, burst upon her now, in the dread momen-
tary glimpse of heaven and earth of abused pow
err forgotten mother, wronged father and a sui
lied conscience, disappointed faith and a presump.
tuous hopes and she slipped through the enconl-
passing arms of that dear father, while his tears
were falling INTO her upturned face like summer
ram, and he was whispering to her to be comforted
even while he shook with unutterabe emotion. and
bowlng her head upon his locked hands, murmured
-"Father, dear father" and then was speechless
Whereupon her father lifted her IN, and oues-
toned her for few brief minutes, and then kiss
ing her again and again, bidding her be of good
cheer, and utterng no word of reproach, but say
ing merely, as they parted for the day. and he was
stralning her to his heart-"My child, / trembe
Tor you you are woman Of genius and everything
depends upon the next five years" left her in peace
And 10! the following letter went to cousin Mar
tina by the next mail.
"Dear Martha am not in love. but nv heart
Is broken. shall never be married. have told
everything to my dear father-much that you new
or dreamed of nor could have thought possible.
am LETT free, with the solemn assurance that if
continue unmarried for five years shall be asham-
ed OF all my present opinions and feelings. know
better, Martha; but yield, because my dear father
deserves 1t for his goodness, Notwithstanding what
must call his deep-rooted uncomfortable preiu-
dices.
"When am IN my grave, Martha and ] feel
that am going to it very fast--he may understand
my true character, perhaps, and pity and love me
Tor the sacrifice have determined to make for bis
pleasure.
s. am weary of life Martha. How gladly would
throw myself down upon that bed there, never to
rise again, if | was only fit to die. And after all,
what is there worth living for? He tells me and
declare to you that have hardly patience to bear
1t even from such father--he tells me that poor
Frederick is fortune-hunter, a coxcomb and
ssmpleton and that long before five years are over
l myself shall acknowledge it. Poor Fritz! sim
pleton and fortune hunter
Give whole years, Martha! Heigho Where
shall we find ourselves at the end of five years.
when, if live, shall be in my twenty first year?
lie says, moreover, that no unmarried woman of
twenty ever looked upon the man she loved at fif
teen without feeling of astonshment and shame,
unless where the growth of her mind was stopped
forever by the companionshp ! give you his very
words Martha. Heigho.
Farewell. JULIA.
SEP. S.-You are never to mention his name to
me, nor speak to him of me, should you ever be-
come acquainted ever show this letter to any
body till am in my grave