The Literary echo, and Pawcatuck advertiser. [volume] (Westerly, R.I.) 1851-1854, 1851-10-09
Gelertc0.
The Bachelors Wedding.
BY MRS. E. WELIM0NT.

'There is no season. said my uncle
Richard, 1 dread like the approach of
spring. 1t is not that [ have not taste
for opening buds and blossoms, it is not
that am not lover of rural pleasures !;
but it is because your aunt Hannah seems
to have so many newly-blown ideas and
wants, that 1 find it hard to steer clear of
the breakers. I don't know the peculia-
rites of other women; for never studied
the female sex much You know lived
bachelor until was eight and forty, and
what the deuce l was ever married for,
sometimes proves vexing question to me.
But still I do know the reason. l felt
lonely sometimes. used to get irritated
with landladies, and mad at house servants
and provoked with washerwomcn, and
whenever I spoke of my troubles to my
friend Squib, he used to say, all this,
Dick, comes from single blessedness,' and
| was fooi enough to beGeTe him. Then
had terrible tussel with myself to know
whom I had better marry? hired pew
in the broad aisle of DR.. Broadwell's church
for they said this was good place to
look out for wife so I opened the win
dow of nay heart, lifted my embossed pray
er-book, and repeated, Good Lord, deli
yer us ; but I am afraid now it was not an
acceptable one.
sWell, Judith Dunn, the widow, sat
right before me. She had three little
daughters, all arrayed in black for their
dear papa,' and Mrs Dunn wore so thick
veil I never could penetrate beneath it
to see her face, until about the fourth Sun
day after 1 took the pew. Then brushing
by me, and hitting the flap of my coat just
as she was turning the corner, excuse me,
Mr.. Guy,' said she. 1t was enoug gh.-
Sauib saw her, said she had money, told
what well-behaved children the little Dunns
we're, what nice wife she made, what an
amiable disposition she had, and how she
mourned her husbands death, and the un-
certainty of her ever marrying again.
6" Find out that last fact for me-" said
I to Squib. So having committed myself,
I must stand the racket.
'Squib made an errand to Mrs. Dunn's
house, fcigning kind of inquiry about a
man indebted to her late husband and him
self. The widow appeared terribly down.
cast, and Squib awkwardly said, 81 hope
your days of mourning will not last forever.
Time assuages grief, and it may be your
duty to yet form another connection.'
"O, heavens" exclaimed the widow,
never-never, Mr.. Squib. My heart is
broken-I can never love another man !;
my husband, sir, was one of a thousand"
9" L left her," said Squib, " but just as
my hand was on the latch to go, she in
quired, "Do you know sir who that gen.
tleman is who has taken the pew adjoining
mine in our church Z"
600, yes, he is my friend Guy, an old
bachelor, but sterling man, worth his
thousands, full of good humor, and on the
look out for a wife, as we say"
sMrs. Dunn evidently looked brighter,
and remarked, "he is very fine looking
what is his business"
6" A commission merchant" l replied,
and law and order man-always on the
RIGHT side. Shall bring him in and in
troduce him to you, madam you seem so
lonely, little society must cheer you."
g" Do as you please" Mr.. Squib, but
you know all gentlemen are alike to me
now," and she wiped her eyes.
'Squib told me all this pursued Uncle
Richard, "and the widow Dunn was for
ever after before me. 1 went again to my
pew, but ere started, l remember twltch-