The south-western. [volume] (Shreveport, La.) 1852-1870, 1857-07-01

bottle of hair dye. Come do hurry!''
'.Pity sakes mother, what fuss Just for an
old country codger.''
Margaret Maria, don't you know anything!
Squire Martin is rich-a great lumber mer-
country of A. Now one Of these two things
is certain, either you Or | must get married,
for what with your laces and brocades L am
almost ruined. Would nota little of thatr rouge
improve my complexion?' e
ssNonsense, mother, hurry along.'
The widow Brown descended to the paror
to greet her visitor, and the daughter commen-
ced her toiled. Itwasno Slight affair. There
were cosmetics to be applied to cheeks that
would never boast the fly's fairness, and smiles
to preface before the long mirror. There she
stood in all the glory of her borrowed charms,
graceful, fascinating, and in everything perfect
ly la mode She found Squire Martin in the
easy chair, awkwardly tvirling his hat in his
hand. He was short man, perfectly bald, with
the exception Of two little tufts of gray hair
that had been tied together by bit of thread ;
besides, he had weasen face and cold, gray,
moneyed eye. Margaret Maria detested the
old man at first sight but remembering their
waning fortunes, she lent her enegies to aid
her mother in the proposed conquest. She
never played and sang with greater grace, new
er flattered more elegantly. He was evident
ly charmed with her loveliness, and the widow
congratulated herself on the point gained
Squire Martin was a tedious talker, but both
ladies hung in ecstacies on his words, laugh
ing at his attempts at Witticisms, and very feel
ingly weeping where tears could be dropped in.
The widow revived their old acquaintance, talk
ed over schools days, and proffered her sympa-
thies to console him in his loneliness, while
the daughter touchingly alluded to her orphan
age. The effect was wonderful. When squire
Martin bowed himself away, it was with a pro
mise soon again to repeat bis visit.
20 dear, to see him stumble over the door
mats so! "Pon my word, what an odd figure
he is.'
'sHush, he is rich. Just think, my fine la
dy, how you will like to teach music OF to sew
for living. tell you again, poverty is star
ing us in the face Such a bird don't grow on
every bush, and it's something of an object for
for me to catch him.
A few days after Margaret Maria was sit
ting at the piano, practising new song oplay
to the Squire, when in darted that gentleman
in all the glory of a new wig. 1t was black as
night and far more unbecoming than the twin
locks of gray that had been allowed to play
over his pie. Margaret Maria looked up
in evident wonder.
Don't you know me" said the Squire, cor
do look so young, hey? Or maybe you didn't
expect me so soon. Always look out for me a
day ahead of the time-that's my motto Stop,
here is little trinket have ought for you, -
said he, drawing an elegant diamond ring
from pocket. Zone thing more, want to know
| if you will marry me?' .s...
"Marry you," said Margaret Maria. "Why,
Mr.. Martin, you are so much Older
t.Sirty -five ,,ext Tune - =-
'While I'm only child.'
"Tutl tut! twenty five Years ago I tossed
you in my arms to the ceiling, and smart Dit
| tie thing you were too
Margaret Maria blushed, and referred he1
rich old lover to her mamma. She went W
stairs in no enyiable state of mind. 80, moth
err said she, che has made proposals to me-
"Who has?'
esquire Martin"
At first the widow was inclined to be ihdig
nant, but she finally came to the conclusion
that would be best.
"Well what are you going to do about lt?'
said the mother, "you won't refuse hlm?'
"Whv, don't want to marry him and live
IN there in the woods-but isn't this a pretty
ring he gave me?''
ayes indeed" said the widow, 'Fand he i:
immensely rich, and in all probability woulc
not Here she paused. "You have declar
ed you will not marry Harry Blake"
mo, indeed" exclaimed the daughter
''But have you never given him reason t1
think that you cared for hm?''
"What if I have? I'll never tie myself te
poverty-never.'
The result of this conversation was, tha
Margaret Maria resolved to give squire Mar
tin an affirmative answer and the widow tool
down her curl papers and indulged in, a fooc
of tears.
A bridal in church-and the winds sighed
but they chillee not the heart of Margaret Mar
ia as did the presence Of the wintry old man a
her side. She thought of Harry Blake. Strange
that his face should come between her heart anc
cold as she drew near the altar. There came
a tide of womanly feeling in her soul, and sht
gave sigh for what might have been. Blu
She heard the rustling of her costly robes as sh'
passed up the aisles, she felt the pressure 0
neT dln1oHd rug oH lEf AhSei' oiao is9i?
everything for thirst for wealth Meanwhile
the old bridegroom stroked bis black wig ane
chuckled over his purchase as the prettlest lit
tie trinket of a bride that money ever bought
And there stood Harry Blake, gazing on th'
scene, not tearfully, but with wonder that ht
| could ever have loved that souless woman.-
The bridal tour was a super5 affair, but it wa!
tedious to the old man, who longed for th'
quiet of home. The cars stopped at an insg
nifcant little station on the Erie railroad anc
the squire started to his feet. ,-s.-..-
"What, do you live here?" asked Margare
Maria. +
mo ten miles farther into the country
She heaved deep sigh.
They found carriage waiting for them a
the depot; OF rather a wagon, familiarly known
as a democrat The squire shook hands with tht
driver, hardy looking teamster, and then in
troduced his bride Margaret pursed up he
lips, and hardly vouchsafed bow. A lgh
ladder was procured from the station-house
and daintily she climbed into the wagon. Ev
erything looked miserably forlorn. The road
were rough, great clods of mud pelted be
bonnet, and as far as the eye could even stretch
she cauld see nothing but steep hills covered