The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1858-01-27
MISCELLANEOUS.
From putuam's Monthly.
Snip

Syntbia Susan Simpson. agn eighteen,
with the pretty talent of pleasing men, was
the acknowledged belle of the little Mar
row Squash valley.
This little talent of pleasing men is
sometimes given by nature as compensa-
tion for the lack of every other accom-
plshment, or the means of procuring any;
but this was not the case with Cynthia,
who had good Yankee sense, and vein Of
sprightliness in hor conversation, which
latter, as l take it, requires several other
talents for its support, otherwise it soon
degencrates into Stiffness, whence it sours
into vulgar Miniature in the country girl
in the lady of society into sarcasm.
Cynthia was pretty, in the freshness Of
her age. American beauty comes forth like
a flower, and is cut down. The loveliness
Of girlhood rarely ripens in the matron.
And Cynthia was afraid to risk her lowell
neis, no doubt for whilst she encouraged
the attention of many "beaux," who,i in the
language Of her society went to see her"
evening after evening, at the snug farm
house Of her father, whenever any of these
swains took the opportunity to press upon
her notice the nature of his case, and urge
the necessity Of its speedy cure she cut
the matter short with him.
Truth must be said, that amongst all
her admirers there was not one who was
praoyi- t at is, before reciprocation
of his love took place--a very desirable
mtach for her.
The richest was Seth Taggari, who paid
his last visit to her one afternoon, in a
brand-new suit Of glossy, fine black broad
cloth. Pretty Cynthia was alone, and pre-
pared by previous experience to discern
symptoms of an approaching assault upon
the Malakoff of her affections. She purs-
ed up her pretty little mouth, and sewed,
with nimbe-glancing fingers, on the sleeve
of one Of the old squire's shirts, of un-
bleached cotton aud thought to herself
what fool Seth Taggart was, and won
dered how he would got out of the fix in
which he found himself, and how he could
dare to think she had given him encour-
agement-and looked-very bewitching.
Poor Seth sat on the verge of his chair,
and gazed through the window, which wa.
open, into the woods, but his was mind
like that of Wordsworth Peter
primrose, on the rivers brim
ellow primrose was 10 him
And nothing more
lie did not find any inspiration in the
woods, SO be began to look into the ashes
Miss Cynthia, said he, at length "did
| you ever see a crow p
Yes, Mr., Seth" said she, folding hel
gusset, and looking down at it demurely
as mouse.
"Block--ain't it ." said Seth,
Very
Then came pause Darn i'll wisl
she'd help me out" said Seth in his Owl
thought The little mink knows what
want TO say, and she might help me t.
say it.
What man has not thought this befor,
now, at conrting time-and wished to Dor
row feminine tact, and the larger expert
ence Of women to help him out Of the slougl
of despond he is beginning tos.sink into
What man would not give the world t
know how the last man, who offered him
self TO her, got through with it3
Ever see an owl ?" said Seth, at lengt
falling back upon his own resources.
"Often. Mr.. Seth" lisped pretty Cir
thia
It's got big eyes--ain't it, now ?"