The weekly north Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1857-1867, 1858-01-20

HoW XII piC9ty SyHtHlh pIouleu NY tue
Experience she pridcd herself upon in
the rejection of her lovers.
1t was mellow autumn morning, and
a russet glow had tinged the woods at
the back of Squire Simpsons home.
stead. 1t was Seth Taggart's wedding
day. He was to marry, that evening,
Susie Chase-a smiling little rosebud
of a wife, to whom he found plenty oi
things to say, as sweet to Susie's ears
as to her lips his maple candy. Gym
thia, as one of her best friends, was to
be bridesmaid and as she wished to
shine that night, in all her bravery, and
wanted some new ribbons for her head
dress, this want tempted her abroad, a
little after II Don, when the harvest fields
were quiet and the yoked oxen stood re-
lieved from labor, leisurely chewing the
sweet morsel reserved for that soft, sun
ny hour of rest. as men of business
used to do the thought of the last letter
written by the hand they loye, till the
burden Of the day is laid aside, putting
J it apart with all its woman's nonsense,
and half unreasonable fancies, pure
from the contact Of the pile of yellow
letters lying on their desk, offerings up
on the shrine of Mammon.
Our pretty Cynthia tripped along her
path, scattered a cloud of grasshoppers
and crickets as she stepped and in her
silly little pride of bellehood her heart
held, though she would not have con-
fessed the thought, that her relative val
ue to her crowd of beaux was in the
same proportion as that of one woman
to many grasshoppers.
At turn in the path she came sud-
denly on one of these admirers--Frank
Handy. Frank face flushed. He had
been thinking of her when she surpris-
ed him--thinking of her all that day
and through sleepless night and in
those lours the Cynthia of his fancy
had smiled on him, and laid her gentle
hand in his, and had teen gathered to
his heart--it was shcck to come thus
suddenly upon SO differenta a reality. At
the moment he encountered her he was
indulging himself in an imaginary love
scene, in which he was calling her, in
heart, my Cynthia, my love-" and at
the sudden sight of her all Such pre-
sumptuous fancies fled in haste, and hid
themselves. shrinking like vari-tinted
coral polypi when danger approaches
each into the recesses of its cell.
Il beg your pardon Miss Cynthia"
he said, stammering before he gathered
self-possessicn, and accustomed himself
to her presence. II was on my way to
make you call. If you will allow me,
l will turn round and walk with you"
Il am not going far, Mr.. Frank, only
into the village, for some ribbon for my
hair, and gentlemen dislike shopping"
(knowinS perfectly we'll that he would
go with herr
II know where a wild hop-vine
grows,' said he; ''it would make a
much prettier ornament for your hair
than any ribbons you could buy in the
village"
And will you get me some 90
Turn this way into the woods, and
spare me half an hour while | twist it
into wreath. l am going away from
here tomorrow. perhaps. l have been
offered professorship in school OF
agriculture.'
"Indeed, Mr.. Handy !"
There was pause, and Cynthia re-
sumed, little hurriedly: Il should
think you would like going away from
here. There is nothing to tempt
young gentleman to remain among
u.s."
Il shall like it, in some respects, bet
ter than my present lite," said Handy.
This farmers life, when there are no
higher interests to accompany it, does
nor draw out the best energies of man.
His nature, like his thoughts, goes round
and round in the routine, like squirrel
in its cage, aud makes no progress"
This man thinks higher things than
l think" was Cynthia's thought as he
said this, and. for moment, she felt
humbled in his presence but she rallied
her pyetentions, remembered her BELLE
hood and her conquests. and the light
in which she always had beel. looked
upon by all her lovers, and was almost
disposed to revenge upon Frank Handy
the passing feeling ofinferiority. Frank
stood in silence. twining the hop-wreath
for her head. lie did not speak. His
thoughts were busted with the words he
would say to her when he broke the
silence. He was satisfied to have her
waiting at his side, waiting for the hop
wreath, with its pale green bells, that
he was twining leisurcly and Cynthia
grew impatient as she founl lie did not
speak TO her. She addressed him sew
eral questions, which he answered with
all air of pre-occupation. She wander
ed from his side few yards among the
rocks, turning over with her foot some
pebbles covered with gray and orange
moss, and disturbing all the swarm Of
busy insect life which made its home
there. The influence of the day stole
into her heart, and made her answers
more soft and natural.
At last Handy broke silence. calling
her to him, as she stood watching the
Stir which the point of her foot had pro-
duced III an ant-hill.
Miss Cynthia"
"ls it finished ?" she said quickly.
"Not the garland-but the struggle
in my breast is finished. have been
questioning myself whether should say
to you what | am about to say"
Cythia gathered leaf, and began
slowly to tear apart its delicate veins and
tbers.
Miss Cynthia, is it pleasant to you to
have man say he loves you?'
Il don't know, Mr.. Handy. I sup
pose so. That is, think it is very en-
barrassino Sometimes.'