Daily American telegraph. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1851-1852, 1852-06-14
AMERICAN TELEGRAPH.
From the National Era
The Difference, and What Made 1t.
RY THE AUTHOR OF "cLoyERNooK"


RY THE AUTHOR OF "cLovERNooK"
IL ls now perhaps four or five years since,
one evening in May, made my first call upon
Mr. and Mrs. Robinson. They had been mar
rled about year, and the union had been
what is termed a love-match. The bride, who
was an heiress in a small way, having stolen
from the comfortable and ample roof of her
father one tempestuous night, and taken, in
the presence of the priest and two or three
witnesses, Tor better or for worse, John Robin
son, to cherish and love in health and sickness
thenceforward
Matilda Moore, previously to becoming Mrs.
Robinson; was tall, slender, fair-faced lady,
with passionate vein in her nature which,
as she was much INDUCED and petted, had
scarcely been thoroughly aroused White teeth,
faxen curls, rosy cheeks, and an amiable smile,
together with an unexceptionable toilette and
graceful manners, gave her the reputation of
beauty with many, though the few might
have found in the full under-jaw and hanging
lip, as also in the general cast of her counte-
nance, want Of the refined and intellectual
Be that as it may, she had passed through the
regular training Of boarding schools, pianists,
and dancing-masters, and in the circle which
her fathers position, as well-to-do lumber
merchant, commanded, was quite belle.
In the valley lying between the city Of which
Miss Moore was resident and the hill-coun-
try wherein Clovernook nestles itself. stands a
great irregular building, known as the Colum-
bia House. In days gone by, it was one Of the
chief resorts of the citizens for recreation and
pastme. But the fashion OF this world pass
eth away and at the time | speak of it was
fallen somewhat from its genteel pretensions
and the once pretty pleasure grounds were
turned into yards for cattle and swine, the
piazzas had been boxed into dormitories for
drovers and the slender, ornamental railing
that once encompassed the house was quite
broken away by reason of having been made
hitching-p posts Of the fast trotters Of jockeys
and from ten to twenty slender-wheeled bug
ges and high-headed horses might be seen,
any summer afternoon hemming in the Co
lumbia House. s
But this is a depression /; and what the house
is, or was, has nothing to do with my story, far
ther than that it chanced to be here, at q ball
given in honor Of some political triumph, that
the first meeting Of Mr.. John Robinson and
Miss Matilda Moore took place
q pretty girl, I'll swear, that you just
danced with, said Mr.. Robinson to Uncle Jo,
as everybody called the well-known dancing
master-tossing of, rs he spoke, a glass Of some
thing stronger than it should have been under
the circumstances. for he was that night the
gallant of as pretty a country girl rs one may
pick from the meeting house of summer
morning
"She dances with infinite grace, Uncle Jo
Won't you take another glass-you haven't
moistened your lips, man."
Could Uncle Jo do other than comply? And
as he did so, Mr. Robinson continued with,
Is there better dressed lady in the saloon Z"
And, as if some one dissented, added, No
STREE! Must have the dimes, eh, Uncle Jo-
won't you produce me-? >
Shortly after the above one-sided conversa-
ton, Uncle 10 appeared in the saloon, and
made his way with an indolent sort of saunter,
as one conscious of welcome anywhere. toward
the nook wherein Miss Moore had ensconced
herself for 4 little respite, and the refreshing
influence of some light gossip with her cousin
Kate. At his side was Mr. Robinson.
Hardly had she time for the whisper behind
her fan" Isn't he handsome3o when Uncle
10 presented him as Mr.. John Robinson, of
- son Of Hon. Judge Robinson-and she
hastened to tuck away the white lace that hung
in series of short skirts over her pink satin
petticoat, to make room by her side for the
handsome son Of Judge Robinson.
Excuse me, Tild,' said the cousin, rising,
with a meaning look that indicated, Do as
much for me some time !" and linking her arm
through that Of Uncle 10, she skipped gaily
away for a promenade rallying her captive
coquettishly on not giving himself exclusively
to one, if he did not expect all the ladies to
claim his service.
"By CAD Uncle Jo y said Mr. Robinson, to-
ward the dawn of the morning, III remem-
Der you when fall heir to the - proper
ty. You have made me happy and an en-
We'd man tonight"
Il congratulate you said the dancing-mas-
ter. who cared not q whit when young ladies
fell in love, nor with whom, but remember,
that bellies may coquette upon occasion. Do
you see anything of that"
And he pointed to Miss Moore, who was at
the moment looking tenderly in the face Of n
very Fat man with very black whiskers of n
luxuriant and uncropped growth, and re-
him in way that might or might
not have meaning in it. for having deserted
her wantonly and unprovokedly for q whole
evening, that seemed to her interminable
:" Is the young woman q fool, that she is
going to show to whole ballroom which way
her cattle Tun2 No, Sr But I'll bet you what
you dare, or I'll play three games Of eucre with
you, and stake my country property, that Miss
Matilda Moore will be Mrs. Matilda some
thing else before this night twelvemonth
Very likely" said Uncle Jo, quietly and
the two gentlemen retired for social glass at
parting.
need say no more Of Mr. Robinson, think.
The reader may form his own idea of what
sort of young men drink with the dancing
master, boast of property which is as yet their
fathers, and of conquests over ladies who
have CHANGED to chat with them an hour.
Thereafter Mr.. Robinson had, to use the
phrase he employed, devilish sight of business
in town. He usually drove his fathers horse
and chaise, which he denominated " mihe,'
and, in company with the rich and accom-
plished Miss Moore, went often to some fash
tnnn he roro-t G.. ;ann nrnnnns stram herries