Democrat and sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1853-1866, 1857-04-08
MisrfllQlleoag.
From the Pennsylvania hsqatirer.
A ROMANCE OF REAL LIFE.
MY EARLY LOVE.
A REMINISCENOE.


ly say-my name is John H. | am 2
retired merchant and by the world reported
wealthy. O1t of large family, all my
children have married or died, but one-my
little pet, Mary. [ still call her s'my little
pet" although eighteen winters have glided
! by since l claspe, her to my BOSOM L love
! her very name, and whether on this account,
or because che is my youngest, | know not,
| but have always feit,for her more paternal
! fondness. Bet il is not of myself or family
| intend to speak Tonight, seated in my
study, surrounded by every comfort, my
mind has reverted again and again to an in
cideEt which happened long ago, until have
determined to record it.
1t was twenty years ago, this very day,
March, IS. The morning was clustering
and unpleasant, as March mornings generally
are. when started from my hone to the
counting house. 1 was q am sorry TO con-
fess iO in bad huInor. The baby had cried
all night, my coffee had been badly made,
and altogether | was what is vulgarly called
:. oct Of sorts gave my overcoat hurried
jerk, and waiting TO button it and put nay
gloves On the way down, L slammed the door
and rushed off, At the corner, my rapid
propress was inpeded by figure which had
been crouclling On one of the door steps
Just IS / came up, it sprang forward. directly
in my path. and seemed to be intently regard
ing something down the street With sigh
OF disappointment, it was shrinking back
again, but not before l had exclaimed angri-
ly, = " oman, get out OF my way She
turned around and with look.
/ am an old man now and yet that pale,
wasted face. with that reproachful look, is as
wildly present before me as then, and will
haunt me to my dying day She fixed her
gaze upon me for moment, and then, in
yseice hollow. aud weak-ah. NE, weak, I
doubt not, from hunger, said Sir, you
ought not to speak to miserable creature So"
[ felt ashamed of myself, and in Q kind tone,
inquired whether she was expecting any one
Her frame shook with emotion, which she
vainly strova to conceal, as she replied My
boy Harry has gone some errands for me. and
| am waiting for him" Her head sank upon
herybreast and, throwing her some money, I
was passiug on, when, with sudden mo-
ton, she stretched forth her hand, all purple
with cold and said. Sir, did you ever
know Mary Reoohfeli? Can you tell me
where she lives ?'
Mary BeechGeld, What food of memo
ries that name sent through my soul. ex-
claimed iuvoluntariiy (and my heart wins
Fered, she WAS your first love. know her
why can see her uow.--So tall and graceful.
with brown hair, and such liquid eyes The
last time I saw her was''-but remembering
myself, [ answered very quickly" Yes, l
know her. but 1t Is many years since moved
from the place where she lived, and I have
not heard Of her since Why do you ask
for felt it almost proclamation for such an one
to have Nary's name upon her lips She
drew her hood more closely over her face as
she replied in falteriHg accents -. She was
kind to me once
Something about the women interested me,
and asking several more questions, promised
to call on the morrow, and hurried on 1t
was late when Preached the store, but all
that day l could not attend to business. j hat
one question, uttered on that quivering voice,
C Sir, did you ever know Mary Beechfeld 2"
rang through my cars and in my very brain
Know her Why loved her with my whole
soul. How well 1 recolleot even now when
met her. It was at ner uuoie's country seat
She lived with her old uncle, Mr. Sheridan
He was rich and would a: his death, it was
supposed, bequeath his fortune to his niece
He took me into bis Office, and with his ac-
oustomed hospitality, invited me to call upon
him [ did so, and was eauntering about
the grounds, when [ met Mary She was
reading when | approached, but perceiving
was strange, received me with a dignity OF
manner peculiar to herself
From that moment my heart was gone. /
worshipped her. Ny blood fairly leaps in
my veins tonight, when l think of her, and
yet am an old grey haired man OF sixty,
with a dear, good wife [ respect aad love, but
not with the kind of lore I bore towards Ma
~. | must hurry over this part Of my story,
for I cannot dwell upon it
Suffice it to say, circumstances were such
We did not marry. | moved to another city,
where married and heard no more of Mary. !
But TO return to my story. All that day !
felt uncomfortable. AT one time l would
blame myself for speaking harshly to the wo-
man-one Mary had treated kindly; and at
another time, [ would feel provoked to think
so small an affair could unnerve me. went
home early, and determined to find the wo-
man l continued to make inquiries for her
during several weeks, but with no success
No one had seen such person.
A year passed by, and I was beginning to
forget the incident, when one evening, in con-
versation, a friend turning to me, said
:. John, you were once great admirer of
Mary Becchfold, were you not?"
L assented, and inquired why she spoke Of !
her then.
Because heard this morning she died in |
a miserable alley near here. You know her |
Uncle disinherited her when she married. I
J Jackson, worthless fellow, and since then |
she has Lived Ia great poverty"