Ashtabula weekly telegraph. [volume] (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1853-1873, 1858-12-04

; money-his money! might known it,
May and December-pshaw ! how could
ever have believed that Mary Terry conl,
!. love an old fellow like me p and Mari
Ware surveyed himself in the large parlo
mirror.
See 1T reflects portly old man Of six
. ty, with ruddy face, snow white hair, anC
: eyes from which the light Of youth haC
0 long since departed And yet there is fir,
IN the old mans veins too; see how ht
strides across the carpet circulating, will
fresh emphasis, Yes | was an old fool /
an old fool But will be kind to her
l'm not the man to tyranize over young
girl because her mother took her out o.
the nursery to make her my wife. | see
now 1t is not in reason for a youug girl like
her to stay contentedly at home with my
frosty head and gouty feet; Poor little Ma
ry NO-I'll not punish her because she
cannot love me; she shall have what she
wants, and go where she likes her mother
is only too proud to trot her out, as the
life of the rich Mark Ware. If that will
make them both happy, let them do it
maybe---and Mark Ware paused maybe,
after she has seen what that Dead Sea APP
ple-the worlds made Of she will come
back and love the old man a liitle--mayhe
who knows No woman who is believed
in, and well treated ever makes bad wife
there never was bad wife yet, but there
was bad husband first that's gospel
Mark gospel. anyhow, and Mark Ware is
gong to act upon it. Mary shall go to
the ball tonight with her mother and
will stay at home aud nurse my patience
aud gouty leg. There's no evil in her;-
she's as pure as a lily, and if she wants to
see the world, why-she shall see it; and
though | can't go dancing round with her,
never will dim her bright es--uo--no p
That will do, Tiffy; another pin in this
lace; now move that rose in my hair a lit
tie to the left; so--Ihat will do"
That will do Tame praise for that
small Grecian head, with ITS crown of braid
ed tresses; for the full, round throat, and
snowy, sloping shoulders; for the round,
ivory arms and tapering rose-tipped fingers;
TOR 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 gnillless and pure, as he had said;
md, child as she was, there was that in her
manner before which the most audacious
We would have shrunk abashed.
When the young bride first realized the
IMPORT of these words she had been made
o utter, till death do ms part she looked
onward with shuddering horror at the long,
weary, monotonous years before Her
ome seemed prison and Mark Ware the
eeper It's very splendor oppressed her
And she chafled and ireted in gilded fet-
trs, while her restless heart cried out
Anywhere but home Must she sit there
II her priSon-house, day after day, listening
My to the repinings of her own troubles
reart Must the bee and the butterfly
llone be free to revel in the sunshine p
Had God made her beauty to fade in the
-tifling atmosphere of darkened parlors,
listening to the complaints of querulous old
ge? Every pulse of her heart rebeled.
How could Mark Ware so unmagnanmous-
ly have accepted the compulsory sacrifice
Why hot 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 fashionable |
horizon like some bright comet, eclipsng
all the regning beauties. No ball, no par
ty, no dinner, was thought to be success
without her. Night after night found her
enroute to some gay assemblage. To her
astonShment and her foolish mothers great
delight, her husband never reconstructed
on the contrary, she often found upon her
dressing table some choice little ornament
which he had provided for the occasion;
aud Mary, as she fastened it in her hair or
bosom, would say bitterly, He is anxious
that |, like other appendages of his estab-
Iishment, reflect credit on his faultless tastep
Mistaken Mary.
Time passed on. Mark Ware was pa
TENT as he promised himself to be. His
evenings were not so lonely now, for his
babe kept him company the reprieved
nurse was only too glad to escape TO her
pink ribbons and chat ith John at the
back gate 1t was pretty sight-Mark
and the babe. Old age and infancy are
always touching sight together. Not
smile or cloud passed over that little face
hat did not wake up all the father in Mark
Wares heart; and be paced the room with
I, or lulled it to sleep on his breast, talking
% IL, as if it could understand the deep
owe to which it was the unconscious o6-
eet.
i am weary of all this said Marks
'eung wife, as she stepped into her carriage,
u the close of a brilliant ball. i am wea-
y OF seeing the same faces, and hearing
he same nonsense night after night /
Wonder if | shall ever be happy2 / won
Ter II | shall ever love anything or anybo-
iyY Mamma is proud of me because
'm beautiful aud rich, but she does not
owe me. Mark is proud of me-snd Ma |
US lip curled scOrnfully. Life is SO weary, |
md am only eighteen ? aud Mary sighed .
heavily.
On whirled the carriage through the de
erted streets, deserted--save by some in
eterate pleasure-seeker like herself from