Muscatine weekly journal. [volume] (Muscatine, Iowa) 185?-1890, 1860-08-24

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gold, and died in . blaze Of slosy-l
calm solemn moonlight evenings, whose
perfect beauty filed the heart too deep
For words and sometimes, yes, often.
there were times when they watched the |
sun lift his head above the eastern
hills, and sew tho earth glori6ed with q
fresh baptism Of loveliness.
Yes, the Judge and Maude got along
amazingly we'll together, and cousin
Jennie smiled to herself Is she ssw 1t :;
but ike prudent woman, q she was,
she kept her own counsel and said moth
ing. But the sensibilities of our hero
were destined to receive rude shock.
One morning he entered the library in
search Of some book he wished to con.
suit, and discovered Maude engaged in
the perusal Of something very interest
ing, evidently for his entrance failed
to attract her attention. He watched
her . moment in silence and then said
ssMsy I ask what has the honor of
absorbing your thoughts SO completely
this morning, Miss Maude Z" gso
ooh, Stewards last speech! It's
| grand, isn't it p
Imagine his feelings, especially when
! it is taken into consideration that the
Judge was . Democrat Of the most ar
dent stamp, and consequently enter
tanned about the same affection for
Seward and his speeches that . rsbid
dog might be supposed to have for
stream Of water. He made . wry face
in spite of himself, and Maude, looking
up, caught him in the act.
"Why, judge" said smiling, ''you
are not . Democrat, hope !"
II an sorry to say I am, replied he
rather stiay.
II am sorry for you, my friend, I
must say" said Msude, while her eyes
danced with mirth to see how shocked
the Judge looked.
"And are you"
ga Republican, and Of the blacklist
dye, to be sure, !" returned she.
"Well, every one to their taste,"
and Maude was alone again.
What Judge Compton's meditations
we're it would be dif6calt to say, but
that night he dreamed that Maude was
President Of the United States, and in
the act Of giving her hand to Seward,
who was a big negro with intensified
woody hair and thick lips, and Henry
Ward Bescher was performing the mar
riage ceremony. He was rather shy Of
Maude for day or two, but gradually
affairs returned to their old channel.
One quiet afternoon, Jennie and
Maude were alone together, the gentle
being absent on some business or 9th
er. They were seated on the piazza
with their sewing, conversing on various
| feminine topics, orspausing to admire
the quiet beauty Of the blue sky gleam-
ing through the heavy foliage Of the
trees, or Of the golden bars, of sun.
light that lay upon the thick green
grass. At length Mauee made some
| remark that had tinge of her political
opinions in it, and Jennie lsughingly
said:
"Now, Maude, what's the use of
talking in that kind Of style? You'll
marry Democrat some day, and then
what will become Of yoser politics %
"But I shan't, though" said Msude,
energetically I wouldn't marry st. Paul
himself, if lkn,v he Was Democrat !"
"Why, Maude," said Jennie, her
black eyes charging themselves con-
siderably; ''you really look as if you
we're in earnest! What are your reas-
ons, may ask :"
ssBecause should fear that . man
whose principles would allow him
to support such system Of fraud,
oppression and wrong, would make .
poor husband -
| tsNevertheless, I will wager my pet
cameo pin against your new riding hat,
that you will not only receive an offer
from . Democrat, within two weeks,
but will accept him."
II accept the bet and refuse the man
in advance" said Maude, bending over
her work, that her companion might
not see the bushes that burned on her
cheek ard brow; $50 consider your
cameo as mine."
| "We shall see,'' answered Jennie,
gaily, as she turned to welcome her
husband, who entered just then. {
Judge Compton vas to leave Maple
Glen in few days, and the final catas-
trophe came at last. It happened in
this wise: The purple gloom Of the
dying twilight had just melted away in
the silver beams of the rising moon,
chat threw dancing shadows Of tree and
flower on the velvetty lawn, when
Maude and the Judge returned from q
ride and sat down upon the vine
wreathed piazza. Maude's eyes had a
sober, dreamy look in their clear depths,
and perhaps the mystic beauty Of the
night had cast its spell over them, for
both were silent. AT length she looked
up, but for an instant, for her compan-
ions eyes were fixed upon her face
with an intense gaze, as if he would
read her very soul, and she looked
down as quickly, while a faint flush
crept over her white brow.
''Maude, I love you. Will you be