The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1858-08-26


and many gardens and fountains. Ualf
mile from the village each way. there
should be woods, aud everywhere streams
OF water and rustic bridges. I wish |
might have husband dark. tall, fine, and
athletic as an Arab chief, cnivaIric Is an
olden knight, tender in heart as gentle
page, and gifted as the Ggecian poets.
And unless | can have such home and
husband, | will always remain Amelia
Hall, and work in uncles dairy-room.' |
remember how we used to laugh at the
Lnc,lsh Siri ior being prosy and domestic.'
Until she was twenty-f0ur, Amelia Hall
waited for her noble lover to arrive from
the picturesque village. She was content
the while to make butter and cheese. aud
to chat with the rustic young men of the
adjacent farms. Until then she was con-
tent, sandalIed with the fairy shoon Of fan.
cv, to walk in the folding parlors Of her
porticoed and balconied future home, 10
arrange the flowers, pictures, and furni-
ture, and at twilight to sit in the white
Plliared portico, or to go down the avenue
Of trees and watch at the Gothic gate for
the noble one beloved. As firmly and
coolly as if already affanccd, she refused
offer after offer from the wealthy and hon
! est farmers.
At this period her uncle lost his prop,
erty, and then his wife Then they two
were pcnniless-he an invalid old man,
and she poor, poor orphan. On her
twenty-tourth birth-n:g6r, as she walked
IN the orchard as usual at sun-down. her
uncle, lame and querulous, joined her and
leaned on her arm. She saw hope on his
| poor old face. His voice was cheer as he
began: Well, Mile Feel old maid-like?
Twenty-four this minute and no loser! Is
| ii well, lassie 2
Mile smiled in her subdued fashion.
She looked down at her face in the mirror
Of the brook. 1t was oval, smooth, and
delicately rosy.
| see, [ see. You EngIhh keep WELL
said the old man quickly. But you'll
alter, lassie, when you have to work night
and day for bread and calico. What do
you mean to do to get these two things?
and he eyed her cunningly.s
[ shall work at something and take
care of US. | could teach, | think she
replied
Keep school for eight or ten shillinss
a week Starvation wages, girl. 1t
wouldn't keep us both. IF | was out of
the way 1t might do. But I've much
better way, Millie. Old Yale's son-the
one with horses, and chariots, and farms,
and mills, and houses wants you Tor
wife. He's been to-day talking with me
about you. Why don't you smile, girl ?
'Inever could marry man like George
Yale she said.
He's the comeliest young man in town.
the old man continued. He'd worship
little lady-like woman like YOU. You
could wind him around your little finger
easier than you can that ribbon. He'll
always be home man. Consider HIM
She considered the stalwart farmer six
feet high, with his sun-burnt face and still,
constrained demeanor. Il dislike to think
of him, she said.
Consider him, say. I can't bear to
see you slave for me; you'll soon be
miserable old woman. Marry him and
have home, and let me have a quiet
room to die in. Yes, I've heard the girls
tell how yor was going to marry grand
talking gentleman. But I'll warn you
you'll live a disappointed old maid if you
wait for this fancy man. Stop, not word.
Think Of it, think Of it, before YOU make
a VOW, and he hobbIcd to the house NUT
terIng.
Instead of Fancy, Reason spoke that
evening to Miss Hall. Romantic Young
woman Reason said, do you know that
you have never seen this man whom YOU
pretiily call 'mate!' There are no such
men in your town, and | assure you, you
will never be known beyond its bounda
ries. Better accept the most eligible offer
you have while it is open
But it is not in ne to guide man to |
beauty and WISDOM the heart earnestly I
plead; Il would be led to higher SUBMITS.
| shall only go back into the low-Iands if
[ obey you, for | hao,c | am infinitely
superior to George Yale and all his com
raGes.'
Don't talk metaphysics to me- said
Reason coldly. | had rather know what
you think OF working day and night to
support yourself and your uncle whle YOU
wait for this fancy man. " hat do you
think of your old uncles dying in the
alms-house? p? What do you think of be
coming faded, old maid, ell IA faded
old maid, at whom, if he should meet her,
the great gentleman would not look?
Millie sighed YEARLY. More softly Rea-
son continued Is it not better to be mis-
tress of that comfort-fuil establishment
Is it not better to give your poor uncle