Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1847-03-11

Michael and, if / were to 90 on from now
till night could not tell half that was done
to bring about her marriage with Thomas
Kirkenshaw. The times that she said over
and over again that she could not abide him,
and that even to his face and it's my opin-
ion that it never would have been brought
about at all if it had not been for Christy
Benson's own letter from America, which
his uncle in Lancaster sent over for us to
read, which gave an account of his marriage,
and what great things he was doing; and
after that she did not seem to care what be-
came of her.
"And so, the end of it was that she mar
ried. 1t was on Midsummer Day that she
was married, "a sunshiny, lovely day,--and
yet it was more like burying than we'd
ding. ] never was so cut down in my life
as when | saw her go off with him. Father
said nothing but our Michael stuck to it
that it would turn out good days work for
her. But wo's me men always think of
the land and money; and our Michael new
err thought that anything could be wrong
where there was plenty of these, and he took
it for good sign that Thomas made such
a fine wedding. But this was how it was.
Thomas loved his own self; and it was Just
for his own pleasure that he came in post
chalse quite grand all the way from Kendall,
and drove off in ii from the church-door-
To be sure, Michael was hurt that he would
not come and eat any of the handsome din
ner that we had cooked, and which we could
never eat ourselves; but he did not say much.
eyes, the beginning and the end were
alike, and so father and Michael soon found
out; but then it was too late.
Well, they stopped at Kendall to dine f;
and he never so much as handed her out of
the chaise, but walked into the house, with
his head on one side, as was his way, and
left her to follow as she could, She could
not eat any dinner, poor thing
Oh Thomas, said she, you might
have given me your hand as got out of the
chaise My poor old father would not have
/; left me in that way
, "Thomas was eating his dinner as cooly
as could be-
"' Maybe not says he but I'm begin
, ming as | mean to go on and | am sorry if
| my ways do not please you
"Thomas meant now to punish Agnes for
: the slight she had so often put upon him.
He was a man that despised women; and
J so, as he said, he was beginning as he meant
to go on. 1t was a bad beginning Nor
was that the only speech that cut her to the
heart on her wedding-dav.
, They reached home in the evening :;
and, as days were long, and it was quite
r light, she went into the rooms to take a look
t round her. There was picture of young
$ woman in a close cap, hanging over the
parlor mantel-piece.
"' And, pray YOU, Thomas who may this
be 4! said she for it is sweet face
&c Ay,' said he, you may well say so.
And better love that woman's little finger
, than all the rest of the women in the world. ;
| "' That's not kind word to say to me,
4 Thomas, fair though she be- said she, with
5 heart well-nigh broken, seeing that have
|, been your wife but few hours
, Truth may as well be out says he
, and you must make the best of it.
"Thomas thought that she loveo Christy
Benson far better than she loved him, and
/ so he meant to revenge himself on her. All
S he was a miserable, precise body, with a
e black, venomous heart in him. and under
e pretence of keeping up mans prerogativc,
, that was the word always in his MOUTH
\ he made his poor wifes life worse than that
e of gin-horsc
S d" He knew, and well enough, too, that
r liked neither him nor his ways, and that
| had done all in my power to keep him from
:. wedding Agnes and, therefore, they haC
!, not been man and wife two months before
it he let me know that his wife had enough t.
d do in looking after his concerns without my
= company.
it agnes was naturally very gentle ant
>, this treatment cut her down sadly and she
had no spirit to stand up for herself, and
weary time she had with him. None of he
old friends went near her, and she never sait
word to any soul of what she endured
IS but everybody who looked at her could sc,
1t that her peace in this world was gone forever
v "Well, at last | could bear it no longer
l. and as had heard that she had been poor
TO ly for some time, | set off one WEDNESDAY
at morning with our Ben and the mare, ant
ir rode behind him to Kendall and from Their
N took car to the next town, which was onl
ir four miles from her home, and that four mile
id | walked for | did not wish to take any
Id body with me,-not even a GARDINER, 10
IL did not know how my visit might turn out
- Agnes, poor thing had now been marrie
I'd getting on for two years. 1t was the end q
ar May, and the hedges were all like pos
10 with hawthorn, and the birds were singin
I'd like mad. Little flowers, all yellow and blue
S, were growing thick upon the banks by tn
er roadside; and shining beetles, and cow-la
as dies, and butterflies, were enjoying then
as selves in the sunshine. Lord said | t
ne myself, how can man be bad enough t
as i'll use a woman in beautiful world lik
at this What paradise it would be fprid
Id and cold-hearted villainy did not mar it =
tn never, in all my days, saw such asweet cour
mt try as that was The fields were so green
9, and the cattle lay chewing their cud in tn
1t, sunshine, as did ones heart good to see i
In the midst Of the fields, and standing b
US the roadside, was very pretty place.
came up to it, and stood for minute jus
k, to admire it. thought that | was, maybe
tn half a mile from Thomas Kirkenshaw's. j
t very pretty place it was, with white pales i
front, all in good order, and green pore
ne and window-shutters, and nice white-iringe
blinds in the windows. Just as | was star
Ter ding looking over the little white gate at tn
ed end of a nice gravel walk, with n box-edl
a ing, that led to the house, little child cam
past with flock of geese
er go Pray ye, my child, must go straigl
on to Thomas KirkenshaW'sP for, as | ha