The weekly pioneer and Democrat. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. Territory) 1855-1865, 1859-03-03
lrroa the Knicksrbocksr,l
The Bank Note.

"You would scarcely think had been in
the States Prison, would your"
In the States Prison. ] echoed. "Oh!
Of course you mean as visitor" and ! fell
citated myself that my good.humored host
had not sold" me.
mo; mean as convict"
"As convict! |" echoed again. dropping
my pipe in amazement. Impossible
True, nevertheless"
Mrs. Elmore raised her eyes from her
knitting, and looked at her husband, and
then at me, with q sort Of sad smile, that
seemed to say: True, every word Of it."
Mrs. Elmore was Q planter living near
Natchcz, in Mississippi, and |, tancyiDg my
self an artist, was at that time staying at his
house, osteusibly engaged in painting por.
trait Of his daughter Annette, tair young
beauty OF seventeen.
True, my stay had already been longer
than was strictly necessary for purposes Of
painting, but for reasons which will appear
more fully hereafter, still fingered on the
plantation, an honored guest. And often,
in the calm autumn evenings, we would sit
together on the veranda, and talk for hours
in home.like, old.fashicned way, under the
shadow Of the clinging vine.
:" In the States prison as q convict "
repeated, after pause, inwardly wondering
how it could be possible that that mild,
benevolent old gentleman could ever have
beee 80 abused.
perhaps you would like TO hear how Il
happened 7" he said inquiringly.
Most certainly, if you are willing to
narrate it,"
al have never spoken Of it since have
been here; but il you will listen tonight to
an old mans babbling, will tell you the
story"
We replenished our pipes, settled our
selves In our seats, and Just when the sun
went out Of sight, the old man began bis
story.
Forty years ago to-day, ] was twenty.
two years old, and, improbable a. II may
now seem was practicing law in the city Of
Boston. Or, rather, was sitting in my
Office, waiting to practice. My father, who
had died when was but boy, had been
lawyer before me, and il was my ambition
always to be like him as dmly remembered
him, and a. my mother described him.
AT that time my mother and myself
were living together in little house in Rox.
bury, and had just begun to see some pros
pect OF success 10 my business.
There was an acquaintance OF mine,
Louis Milton by name, at that time cashier
in one OF the city banks.
Circumstances had thrown US much
together, and we had grown to be very good
friends, 20 much 30 that he had often spoken
to me Of certain Mary Marshall whom he
was accustomed to regard as his future
wife the contract, for such only il could be
called, having been entered into years before
by their parents.
:" Weston Marshall was . wealthy i'm
porter, and the elder Milton, chief owner Of
the bank in which Louis was cashier. Both
were wealthy. and both aristocratic and
hence the foundation Of the contract. had
never seen her, and never thought Of her but
when he spoke Of her, little dreaming that
ste would one day indirectly eject thor.
ough change in my whole life. But mus.
not anticipate.
Il shall never forget one snowy night, the
first time ever saw her Some theatrical
celebrity was starring at one Of the Bos-
ton theatres, and Louis and myself. happen.
ing together, stroled to the play. In one
OF the intervals between the acts, Louis
turned 10 me and asked:
Have you ever seen Mary
al answered that never had that pleas
ure.
"'Do you see, he ssid directing my at
tention TO remote part Of the house, that
yousg lady dressed in purple, with dark
plumes in he. hal?
IL replied that did.
"'Well, that's Mary
Placed as We then we're, 10 the glaring
light, | could see little beyond the particulars
Of dr,ss be bad remarked bat the chances
ofthe crowd. a. we left the theatre, brought
me quite near ber, and ] thought then. a.
think now. that had never looked into a
pair Of deeper or more heart-full eyes. Bat
We passed on chatting pleasau,ly together
OF Indifferent things, and TIA, night ] slept
a. sound and dreamles sleep a. II there
were never a woman in Chrlstspfom.
Mayhap you have notiod-if you have
what people call an ear for music, you
cnr,ainly have-tha, you may lsten TO a
piece Of music which shall strike yoa ~ BE-
ing peculiarly beautiful, and 20 away. and
ous hour aitsrwsrd you could DO, recall, 20
a. 10 ar,.culate a single note OF il, though
your liz deyended upon 10 doing. And yet
dsy, af.erxard, when you leas, e1yec. il,
you shall catch yourself humrning strain a.
tar strain, a. easily "a il you had known
them from childhood and 10 truth j, shall
rem more ike an echo Of something with
which You had loog ago bean familiar
than the scqusi,ioo d sgns'hing entirely
new
Jsi % il ~S To NJ With Mary Mar