The weekly north Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1857-1867, 1858-06-23
WHOLE NO. 80.
Ole Eusbsnds and Young Wives.

Ole Husbsnds and Young Wives.
l was an old fool Yes-I was an
old fool, that's all there is about it. I
ought to have known better; she was
not to blame, poor thing; she is but a
child yet; and these baubles pleased her
ambitious mothers eye. 1t was not
the old man, but his money-his money
II might have known it, May and
Deccmber-pshaw. How could ever
have believed that Mary Terry could
love an old fellow like me? And Mark
Ware surveyed himself in the large par
lor mirror.
See! it reflects a portly old man of
sixty with ruddy face, snow-white hair,
and eyes from which the light of youth
had long since departed. And yet there
is fire in that old mans veins too; see
how he strides across the carpet, ejacu-
lating with fresh emphasis, Eyes, / was
an old fool! an old fool. But / will be
kind to her; am not the man to tyrra-
nize over a young girl because her moth
er took her out of the nursery to make
her my wife. I see now. it is not in
reason for young girl like her to stay
contentedly at home with my frosted
head ard gouty feet. Poor little Mary!
No-Pll not punish her because she
cannot love me; she shall have what she
wants. and go where she likes: her moth
er is only too proud TO trot her out az
the wife of the rich Mark Ware. If that
will make them both happy, let them do
it; may be-and here Mark Ware paused
may be, after she has seen what the
Dead Sea apple-the worlds made of
she will come back and love the old
man a litlle-may be-who knows? No
woman who is believed in and we'll
Treated, ever makes a bad wife; there
never was bad W fs yet, but there was
a bad husband first, that's gospel
Marks gospel anyhow, and Mark Ware
is going 10 act upon it. Mary shall 60
to the ball tonight with her mother.
and will stay at home and nurse my
patience and gouty leg. There's no
evil in her; she is as pure as lily, and
if she wants to see the world. why. she
shall see it; and though l cannot 90
dancing around with her, l will never
dim her bright eyes-no--no?
THAT will do, Titfy; another pin in
this lace; now move that rose in my
hair little to the left; so. that will d."
THAT will do Tame praise for
that small Grecian head, with its crown
of braided tresses. For the full, round
throat and snowy sloping shoulders; for
the round, ivory arms and the tapering,
rose-tipt fingers; for the lovely bosom
and dainty waist. Well might such
beauty dazzle Mark Wares eyes till he
failed to discern the distance between
May and December.
Mark Ware had rightly read Mary.
She was guileess and pure, as he had
| said, and child as she was, there was
that in her manner before which the
most audacious eye would have SHRINK
abashed.
When the young bride had realized
the import of those words she had been
made to utter, "till death do us part"
she looked forward with shuddering
horror to the long monotonous weary
years before her. Her house seemed a
prison. and Mark Ware the keeper. Its
very splendor oppressed her. And she
chafed and fretted in her gilded letters,
while her restless heart cried out ''Any-
where but homo - Must she sit there
iu her prison house day after day lis
tening only to the repinings of her own
troubled heart? Had God made her
beauty to fade in the sitting atmosphere
of darkened parlors, listening to the
complaints of querulous old age? Ev-
cry pulse of her heart rebelled-how
could her mother have thus sold her?
How could Mark Ware have so un-
magnanimously accepted the compul.
sorry sacrifice? Why not have shown
her the world, and let her choose for
herself? Oh. anywhere. anywhere from
such home?
There WAS no lack of invitations abroad
for Mary had flashed across the fash
ionable horizon like some bright comet,
eclipsing all the reigniny beauties. No
ball. no party, no dinner was thought a
success without her. Night afternight
found her en- route to some gay assem-
blage. To her astonishment, and her
foolish delight. her husband never re.
monstrated. On the contrary, she often
found upon her dressing table some
choice little ornament which he had
provided for the occasion; and Mary, as
she fastened it in her hair or bosom,
would say bitterly: He is anxious that
l. like the other appendages of his es-
tablishmcnt, should reflect credit on his
fauliless taste.''
Mistaken Mary.
Time passed on. Mark Ware was
patient as he had promised himself to
be. His evenings were not SO lonely
now, for his little babe kept him COM
pany. The reprieved nurse. only too
glad to escape to her pink ribbons and
a "char with John at the back gate"
1t was a pretty sight-Mark and the
babe! Old age and infancy are always
touching sight together. Not a smile
or a cloud passe! over that little face,
that did not wake up the father in Mark
Wares heart; and he paced the room
with it. or rocked it to sleep on his
breast. talking to it. as If it could un-
derstand the strong, deeplove of which
it was an unconscious object.
81 am weary of all this" said Mark
young wife. as she stepped into her car
riage. at the close of a brilliant ball. Il
am weary of seeing the same faces and
the same s:upic nonsense night after
night. l wonder shall ever be happy?
I wonder shall ever love ANYTHING or