Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1860-10-24
PRIDE AND PRINCIPLE.
BY b. 8. BURTON.

was returning home after an absence of
eight years; returning to the home of my
childhood. The numbering coach thit bore
rapidly along, was already entering the
little village where / was born, where had
received the first rudiments of knowledge :;
where had sported many happy childhood's
hour, and where had first learned to love-
Yes. to love the prettest merriest, and prou-
dest maiden in all the village-ssnot wisely,
but too well.'' She rejected my suit she had
higher aspirations. 1t was true she liked me
very well-it might be loved me. butt was
not rich; and she was proud and naughty, as
well as beautiful. Yet she was indeed kind
and charitable; she did not reject my offer
iisdainfully, but seemed to study some meth
Cd by which her irrevocable reply might give
me no pain. did not question her motives
! knew them too we'll, and then and there
resolved that if health should be spared me 1
would depart at once from my native village,
and some day return wealthy man-not again
TO urge my suit, not even to claim her as a
friend or acquaintance, unless it should be
her express desire for too had proud spir-
it, and could never condescend to plead with
a woman.
All these thoughts passed rapidly through
my mind as ncared my fathers cottage; and
i rejoiced to think that i'm part my purpose
had been accomplished. l was rich-rich
even beyond the fastidous acquisitions of Is
abel Hayne; richer than her father had ever
been, and yet my stern resolve had seen no
change.
l met my father, now silver haired with
age. My mother had been lying in her silent,
narrow home for nearly two years. My sister,
my only sister, whom fondly hoped to meet,
was married, and had gone to distant place
20 dwell. The spirit OF change had breathed
upon every dear and familiar object. / met
she companions of my youth, who welcomed
me back with smiles, which seemed the dis
torted mockery of the smiles that lit up their
happy faces in my boyhood's days. They
were growing old. Yet some seemed appa-
rehtly no older than when had seen them
eight years before.
did not meet Miss Hayne /; nor did even
inquire about her. She had probably gone
away; or what was quite as probable, her
father might have become wealthy that she
no longer moved in the village society. Per-
haps she was married, and was living in some
other place. What was she to me, that |
should spend thought in speculation as to
the cause OF her invsibility And yet could
not efface her image from my mind. If ever
in distant lands had succeeded in banishing
her from my memory, could not do so now.
The associations of home and familiar scenes
brought back the recollection of happy days,
and her name-her form, just as she appeared
to me then-was indispensably necessary to
complete the picture which fancy painted me.
..
she was not there. Why should / look so
anxiously about, hoping and yet fearing to
encounter her beautiful face 2 Why could
not forget her at once, and for ever2 Some
zone mentioned her name. "Why was she not
there? 2"
"She does not go out now since their mis-
fortune," was the reply.
"What pity Poor Hayne They say that
she supports him by teaching.''
eyes, she is engaged in sch ool just beyond
the village. 1t must be severe and humili-
ating lesson to her; she was very proud.''
must confess was interested, and desired
to know more, much more but l asked no
questions-I could not forget the past.
Not long after this l learned that Mr..
Haynes house and grounds, which had passed
anto the hands of some large landowner, was
again for sale. purchased it, having no def
snite purpose in view, unless twas the thought
that IL would make a comfortable residence
aor my father in his declining years, since his
9"a cottage was getting quite out of repair.
q. ohce set about repairing the mansion, for
fnat TOO had feltthe mouldering touch of time;
and for tha. purpose frequently drove out to
watch and direct the operations Of the men
employed.
was one day driving leisurely along when
espied, at some distance before me. an old
man, bent with age, and cropping his tedious
way along the road. Presently he sat down by
e1e n ROADSIDE to rest, and when 1 came up
onered him seat in my chaise.
Never mind," he said, "it is only little
way that have to go; just to yonder school
house on the hilltop. go there sometimes
~nen the days are pleasant like this to meet
~ laughter and accompany her home from
. ''Ioo,: H. She is the teacher, yon know,''
al II disregarded his refusal of my offar,
mw 1 tsprang out of the chaise, extending him
ths,. o nand to assist him to seat, as though
' IL matter Of course that he would ride.