The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1851-07-16
The Bachelors Story.

and gone, now poor fellow or could
not tell the tale | am going to tell !;
but while he lived, he was the delight Of
every company into which he went, and
he was loved by everybody. lie was
one of the people whose age and cir
cumstances make them liable to the cog
nomen Of "old bachelors" and, like old
bachelors everywhere, he was the butt
of every body. y.--therc was no one who
did not think it his right and duty 10
tease and torment him necessarily. If
he was at party, he was made, as
matter of course, the slave Of the la
dies ifhe was ou, on an excursion Of
any kind, he was always the joke Of the
gentlemen; and sometimes their jokes,
as they called them, were no jokes Ell
ther; but never saw him out OF temper,
for all that, and his hearty laugh and
constant activity proved that he was moi
unwilling, if people enjoyed themselves,
that they should do so at times at his
expense. But have seen him more
than once, and this even at weddings,
where everybody and he especially, was
expected to be merry, with sad coun-
tenance, aud tear in his eye; and,
though, on its being remarked that he
was grave, he would bounce up, and
laugh louder, and seem merrier, than
ever. it was evident that something, Ell
ther past or present, was lying heavy on
his heart.
was sitting one morning, about a
month after my marriage, enjoying al
most the ffsi quiet Of my nice little
home. after the rouls and gaieties Of my
recent wedding; Thomas Grayson was
in the chair by the fireside and my
beautiful wife-bless her she is beau,
iiful yet, though years since then have
passed over us-was sitting BY my side
with her hand in mine. and smiling the
love and happiness which were in her
loving and happy heart. Thomas, how.
ever, was graver than usual and though
We tried. both my wife and 1. to rally
him, and laugh him out Of his mopish.
ness, the tear would keep starting from
his eye. and he looked into the fire, say
ing nothing. At last he said. Will
liam, | don't know how it is, but some.
how think get more selfish as gel
older; ! ought TO rejoice, and be a,
happy as you to see you happy with Ma
rian there; aud am sure no one really
wishes you more joy, or is better PLEASED
to see you happy together than am
but am afraid that | am hall enviou:
of you, do you know? for canno
help thinking Of things which occurred
years since, and regretting that 1 have
not wife now, as pretty an6 loving as
Marian. You must know" he added
after pause, that bachelor though
am, did not always mean to be bach
elor and there was one once who die
not intend me to be a bachelor"
Indeed, Thomas" said my wife
with woman's eagerness. who was
thatl and l am sure you ought not Il
be a bachelor, with such a heart q
yours: there's Mary Hardcss,le. an,
Sarah Jackson, and Harriet Woodward
any of them would he glad to have you
why don't you marry, Thomasi"
elf it will not tire you TO listen TO
tale IF disappointment" he replied, 4"
will tell you, Marian" We were botl
silent; and so he went oh, - almos
dreamily at times, as il communing will
himself rather than talking to us.
"They were pleasant days. the day
of my childhood, aud merrily one ahe
another did they pass. Oh. how de
lightful il would be if we could be chill
dren always-ever looking hopefully I,
the joys of life, and never brought init
contact with its stern realities My faith
er was not rich, but he had good bus
mess, aud we were always comloriabl,
at home and he was able TO send me /,
a good school, where got an education
better than that Of most boys in my po
siIion. The first "love affair | cat
well remember-what innocent, beauii
iul things are the love-alfairs of child
ren-was, when | was about six year
old. with little Eliza Rawson. She was
as have her in my eye now, q swee
child OF about my own age; we had
lived within few doors of each other
and had played together ever since ws
began 10 run and | used to call her my
"sw ee,heart -; and many sweet kiss
had we. little thinking there was any
thing wrong in il. when we were alone.
But, poor child, she was taken i'll, and
she died; and | saw her laid in the
grave and many bitter tear did weep
for her; and | used to pray that nigh,
soon 60 TO heaven. and that she might
NEE, me there, and that we might love