The Wyandot pioneer. (Upper Sandusky, Ohio) 1853-1868, 1854-07-06

iol "eFe very neaVy--lnlrty thousand
pounds--a perfect establishment ready
made, and lady of beauty and many ac-
complshments.
Young gentlemen of three or four d.
twenty, little do you know how serious a
matter is that of love making to man on
the shady side of forty. To you it's all
coleur de rose to him it is vastly different,
Think of the visits to the dentists, the
anxious constitution with the perruguier,
the desperate inventions of belts, for an
obstinate waist, the nervous detection oi
fresh crowsfeet about the eyes, and the
fearful discoveries of new grey hairs in
the eyebrows and whiskers! Think oil
all these things, and add to them the close
calculation of the chances of happiness
even if success be secure, and admit.
young gentlemen, that love making to a
middle aged wine merchant is very diff
ferent frem what it is with YOU
Mr.. Pontiac did succeed. He was ac-
cepted as the husband of the charming
Mrs. Tattersal Hazard; and as he was
eager to secure the prize he had gained,
he pressed eagerly for an early wedding
day. The widow blushed at the empress
ment as duty bound, but did not refuse
his request.
Then came the question of settlements
Mr.. Pontiac wished to behave literally
and offered to settle two thirds of the
lady's fortune on herself. To his sur
prise and to his delight, Mrs. Hazard
positively refused to have any settlement
at all. She wished all th at she had to be
long to her husband Who could resist
the effects of such touching confidence?
Pontiac was in state ofthe widest enthu-
siasm when he thought of the angel he
had won for himself!
The wedding day was fixed; it came, ii
passed, and we shall not describe it. Mr.
and Mrs. Peregrine Pontiac retired to
Scotland to pass the honeymoon in the
Gland of brown heather and of shaggy
wood" amid flood and fell, forest and
lake.
Pontiac was supremely happy. He
vowed that he would not be a bachelor
again for the wide world. And yet he
had one little subject of grief--his darling
Bella. Mrs. Pontac's Christian name
was Isabella, was less lively and cheer
full now than she used to be; at least he
thought SO; but she declared " mat she was
far happier now that she was away from
the turmoil of a London life
At length Pontiac began to talk of re-
turning to London. His wife made many
objections to this and he gave way to her,
till at last he said he positively must re-
turn. He wanted to wind up his affairs,
and dispose of his business; he had made
none of the necessary arrangements yet,
and indeed he had not even written or re-
ceived single business letter since his
marriage. They came at length by easy
journeys to London, and drove up 10 the
former residence of Mrs. Hazard having
dispatched letter to the servant to an
nounce their intended arrival, for they
destined this charming little house to be
their future place Of abode
The carriage was not in waiting at the
station very provoking; but they took a
cab.
"Halloa! what's this?" screamed Pont-
&C, as they reached the house. .'It can't
be their right house--yest, it is,--there
must be some mistake-what the deuce
can it mean2
AS he jerked out these words in haste
and horror, Mrs. Pontiac sank back in her
seat deathly pale: for she, too, had seen
what had attracted her husbands atten-
tion-large bills in the windows and out
side the house, announcing the sale by
auction of the furniture and effects with
in it.
"What the deuce does it mean?" cried
Pontiac
Distress for rent, sir" replied dirty
looking brokers' man approaching him.
"For rent! I never heard anything so
infomous in my life. suppose this lady
has forgotten to send the landlord check
for his rent, and he takes advantage of our
absence to pursue this disgraceful course.
How much is it, sir?''
"Nintey pounds eighteen and" was the
reply.
Pontiac rushed into the house and wrote
check for the amount. The people knew
him, and accepted his check.
CHOW you can go, I sppose; and take
those confunded bills with you" he cried.
"Now p'raps you will pay my leetle
claim?" said a Jew stepping up to him.
"Yours! who are you sir?''
Michael Moses, officer to the sheriff of
Middlesex--execution for three hundred
and sixty weight pounds seven and"
Pontiac heard no more, but rushed out
of the room. Mrs. Pontiac, whom in his