M'arthur Democrat. (McArthur, Vinton County, Ohio) 1853-1865, 1860-03-22


who was teacher OF mathematics. He
seldom spoke to any one, except when
duty required it; and especially did
he avoid the young girls His face
was pale, and bore all the spirituality
and power Of genius, and it was said
that he possessed a world Of untold
wealth of thought, which only very
few were allowed to share. He had
one weak or vicious point Of charac
ter; he loved to play tricks, to deceive
to lead astray; and more than one "oi
the pupils had come to regret this pro.
clivity; though they pitied and for-
gave him for the wrong done. Flor
ence, as we said, went home, The
guardian soon received a letter from
HeIry's father, which letter ey pressed
a hope and desire that all things wo'd
be satisfactory to the guardian; tina: he
was much gratiiied that his son was
going to enter into so amicable a rela.
ton with his young ward, and ended
the letter with a few careless inqui.
ries as to her future prospects, which
he presumed his hot headed boy had,
in fancy, made into larger dimensions
than the reality would warrant.
The guardian handed the letter to
Floreuce, who, it must De con iessed ,
felt little surprised at ito manner and
tone, and especially at the revelation
that the father OF her dear Henry wrote
a very school boy hand, and did not
spell half the words right. But she
concluded that great men We're some.
times poor scholars, and so went on
with her preparations, not at all sorry
that she had exacted this letter from
his father, that she might be sure OF
his conPent to her union with his boy,
who was the apple OF his eye, ard his
only child.
The bride groom elect also wrote
and cheered the hours Of absence by
his beautiful etfusions, breathing forth
love and undying affection.
The day at last came, and with it
the bridegroom, and in one hour from
the time of his arrival, Florence Bel!
was his welded wife. The foolish ro.
nance had been kept up till the last.
1t needed not that hour to startle her.
Her first conversation half broke the
spell. His voice was not a voice that
could breathe out such harmonies as
had thrilled her soul. lie stammer,
ed, talked bad grammar. and pro.
nounced his words strangely. But,
perhaps" she said TO herself, she is
But tue embarrasS,
ment did not pass away. She loved
the fine face and form, and they were
now to be the lights that reflected her
own. She was according to legal fc-
ton, part OF the being that stood by
her side They were one. But she
wondered more and more how it co'dbe
Scarce had the honeymoon passed ere
she found she had been welded to a
knave. she had married one mans
body and another's mind. The poor
hunch- backed dwarf had written all
those beautiful letters. He had him
self loved Florence, and it was de.
light to him to write to her, to pour
out his soul in its truthfulness, and to
read her answers, even though meant
for another's eye; for Henry Waite
was willing to share this much with
one who would secure him 50 rich a
prize.
The poor miserable dwarf knew it
was his soul she loved, even while she
worshipped at another's shrine. But
the poor wretch died ere she was the
wife Of another. God, we hopey has
forgiven him Tor this.
Florence raved in her disappoint-
ment. But, alas! her fate was sealed
He laughed at her rawlings, she was
in his power. Her property was in
his hands. The marriage was legal.
Would she," he asked, with bitter
sneer, "tell her 'greenness' to the
world 2" He excited her pride, and
she resolved to bear-to try to bring
good out of evil. What else could she
d02 NJ divorces were granted il
N Y, but tor one dark crime
She tried to forgive to love--the
body without the soul. Shecould moi
She bound down her hate. She be.
came a metner, but never but one
child ever spoke that sacred name II
her. She turned her away from the
common things of life. She saw the
sky beautiful, the stars bright, the
earth green iI the spring time, flowers
and the summer fruits were beautiful
She worked, worked, day and night;
her garden repaid her love; her fruit
trees and vines dropped their treas
ures into her lap. Her birds sang
sweetly, and the work Of her pencil
gave her line for line, and grace fol
grace, for her care and thought. She
wove the shells OF the sea into orna
ments, and turned the green MOSES
into vases and altars, and wrought the
humblest things into beauty and har
mony. And 50, for twenty years, ha'