Litchfield enquirer., 1848-01-27
LITCHFIELD CCoNA) THURSDAY, JANUARY

looked into her eyes, as, for a moment they were turned towards mine. Kind thoughts travel quick between young hearts and, though she turned hastily away, saw q smile dimrle her flushed cheek. The next instant she was gone. The victor had fled, and the vanquished held the field.
 The next morning the wind was in the south, and sportsman like. l rose before the day. But cloued skies had lost their charm. There had been anarchy in my dreams and revolution in my brain.- King Nimrod had abdicated, and Cupid the san csalotte. had assumed the directo- rate. Ipicked flint and then my teeth, l snoodcd a hook and caught my thumb, put on my hunting troggery, and put it off again, and went back to my bed, and lay, half dreaming, half thinking ofcotages in the green wood and Kate Russells in. muslin, of palaces in the city and Kate Rnssells in satin, of altars and flames, arr rows and rings, till, at the sound of the bell, I rose up determined to leave birds to their boaghs and fshe$to their brooks, and ts look Ion Kate Russell again with all speed.
 Now lhere would have been nothing im> proper in my walking over to the Colonel's and introducing myself like gentlemen But reund- about way naturally took. l knew that Frank had warned the Colonel of our eoming, and trusted his friendship had painted me in winning colors. had brought with me, for evening reading, the first edition of the 'Lady of the Lake, then fresh fron the press-and, having inscri> bed on ihe I'lank page, Kate Russell, from her cousin Frank in Frank own sprawling hand, | made dash for camp. Fortune was inslove with me, and met Kate where we had parted, introduced myself, say ing that came with better auspices than before, for brought with me gift from her cousin, which he had charged me to de- liver immediately. .....
 He could not have sent letter of intro~ duction more fairly writ,' said she, and l have been longing for this book for weeks. But how did Frank ever dream of doing SO pretty ,hing2' .r.....
 I blushed at my poor trick. .--*
 Perhaps Franks friends are blessed with better taste,' continued she. Bat par don me for detainins you here. The min- s,rel makes me forget all courtesy. You must let me lead you to the house. My father will be most happy to welcome a friend of our dear cousin to the Old Colo n.y. . "7'@' r'
 At the house found Colonel Russell, who greeted me with tha, warm, yel stately courtesy which has so poor substi,ue, ei' rher in the prim Coldness, or the blunt fa- miliarity of our parvenuS-a courtesy in whose presence neither .rudeness nor diffi>' dence could exiSt-conrlesy which both conferred and commanded respect. The old lady was one of those who never lose the kindliness and vivacity of you.h-one of Coleridge's 'dear old souls-' and, to all that was the friend of their relative, set m ed sufficient reason for the warmest kinds ness. '""S
 The Colonel reproached me for not com ing directly to his house, and nothing would atone for the fault but that my trunks should forthwith be brought. and become one of the household. '''.' ."#
 Thus kind reader, thou hast the beginning and end of my wooing. How it sped and how much the tale of Malcom and Ellen had to do with opening Rates heart, and how when, or where, the sweet confession was tempted from her ripe lips. are secrets not to told even to thee. Yet let me warn thee, fair one, if thou would st not easily be won. to beware how. at twilight, in the listening woods, thou nearest that tale from . young mans lips or flee, ere with deep and low and pleading tone,' he reads
 His chain of gold the king unstrung-s. The links OCT Malcom's neck he flung; .ss
 Then gently drew the glttering band. -
 And laid the clasp on Ellen's hand"
 If he be of motal mould he cannot but press thy hand somewhat meaningly, and as he closes the book, and the same thoughts will be in beth your hearts, and thou Will find it hard 10 say to hIm s Nay" 23
 Two months had passed over me nAiser- able, and had heard no word of Rake. ! had tried to write to her, but my heart had failed me, and at length had taken phileso> phy to my bosom, and comforted myself with wise saws, and laid an embargo on all thoughts of love. It was the day before Christmas, and sat drowning my sorrows ia the bowl of my meerschaum. when Frank Russell burst in to my room. .3@ ao"
 sWhat makesl thou here from Gotham Francisco?' @s t79r &.4tt g. art
 TMuch good it does, Harry, to send you a