Democrat and sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1853-1866, 1860-03-28
EBENSBURG. Pa. WEDNESDAY, MARCH %, 1860.


THAT you are so unlike a man"
''What then am / like?'
''A monster"
Brave, Ruth You have been studying
rGiuilaume Telr' And, since you are as
defiant as the Swiss liberator, must be as
naughty as the tyraut Gcssler. But / won't
plead for privilege that 1 have a right to
demand So, cousin mine, here's to better
humor when He meet week hence" And
with polite bow, he was about to withdraw.
Ruth made step forward, and said in a
spirited way
Horace. Nilssc-. are aiy wishes really Of
so little Importance to you that you can pass
them by SO lightly? Two weeks before our
marriage, and you are already playing the
tyrant. Once more, Horace, will you forego
this engagement for my sake, and sustain me
by your presence this EVENING""
"A little TO austere, my rustic maiden; you
must emulate the tenderness of your scrip
tural namesake, if you would gain your plea
But Hamilton is waiting; let Us part friends;
you are too exaeting, dear Ruth. | am sure
L have given you reasons enough to satisfy
any generous person. So say goodbye, and
| viii return as quickly as | CAM"
''Since my wishes are Of so little couse-
quuence, my favor must be as lightly esteem
ed. You need not write, you under the
ban of my displeasure, sir. Good morning,
Mr. Wiluerp'
And with stately step she passed into an
adjoining room, leaving Horace, half amused
half pained, to bid me hasty adeu. and
find his friend. who was waiting for him in
carriage below.
Ruth came forward as the sound of rattline
wheels struck her ear. Peeriug through the
blinds she saw the carriage pass over the
bridge ard loose itself among the trees. Then
with sigh she sat down to finish the velvet
slippers she was embroidering for Horace,
with resolution, no doubt to Danish him
from her mind. Entering the room, half
hour lately, found her leaning idely upon
the embrause Of the window. with a miniature
of Horace lying before her, which she was
regarding very attentIvely.
Horace had gone to a neighboring town to
attend TO some court business, which required
bis personal supervision, and which be could
not possibly neglect or entrust TO other hands
But Ruth had set her heart on having him
at 'Cloyerm cad" that evening. to company
given TO bride, for which she had oficiated
as bridesmaid. 49,
The position was embarrassing. aud she
particularly wished Horace to be pre- sent, to
attentions of the grOomsman-a matter which
she had not altogether explained to Horace,
aad which consequently did not quite under
stand. She felt piqued at his seeming in
difference, for they had loved each other from
childhood, and for the first time in their lives
had parted coldIy-he vexed that she should
insist on controlling him, and she half dispo-
sed to question his love.
Three nights after Horace left there was a
terrific storm. The tall poplars shading the
avenue were tossed like reeds in the strong
wind, and occasionally in the lul of the tenn
pest we beard the roar of the swollen stream.
as 1t overfowed its banks and tore up by the
roots the knotted beaches thar had cast their
shadows en- It's bosom for half a century.
Ruth, startled from her Slight slum Der chung
to me IN an agony OF fear, as the deep voiced
thunder reverbrated along the lowering hea-
vens, and the vivid lightning shed binding
glare through the sullen gloom. Again and
again she called Horace By name, and ejacu-
lated prayers for his safety.
'Oh. cousin Annie" she would say,
''slould anything happen to Horace, Car
never forgive myself"
Trembling aud disnayed myself, agitated
by strange forebodings. | sought to soothe
her. So night passed and morning came.
The soft haze foated like veil of gossamer
over the yellow naples till their bright leaves
deepened to a crimson glow. Though masses
of snow white clouds were riffs of smiling
blue-no trace Of the fearful storm, except
the roar of the turbid streain aud the masses
of floating timber hurried along by the swift
current.
There was sunshine, too, in the trusting
heart of cousin Ruth; for the good doctor, her
father, had brought from the post Office
formal note from Horace, stating that, in
consideration of her dispeasure, if she would
grant him upon his return the boon she de-
nied him at parting, he would brave all the
adverse fates extant. and be with her that eve
ming.
All day the name of Horace was upon her
lips. Bus;ly she piled her needle, weaving
in the bright bule, 'forget-me-nots' upon tie
purple ground of the velvet sIippers-peace
offerings for Horace npon his return.
1t was SO wrong of me, ANNIE" she
would say, Ito behave SO imperiously to Ho-
race. He has SO often told me that my un-
wavering confidence in him endangered me
to him more than all the rest. Oh! the lag
gard moments, how slowly they pass-I am
so impatient to acknowledge my fault. and
convince him that appreciate his noble worth.
Let US go down to the old ash tree, Annie,
aud perhaps We may hear the sound of 'Har-
~ IS hoofs as he crosses the little bridget"
1 humored my cousins wish for there was
. something expressing my heart of which l
Jared not speak, half recognized foreboding
Of i'll. The sun was settiug gloriously as we
leared the stately ash, under whose broad
shadow we three had so often sat, chatting in |
very recklessness of joy. Alas. its day of
pride was past. 1t was riven to tie heart by |
he lightniug's unerring bolt! One half stand |
ng erect waved It's blighted branhces mena- !
,ingly; the other lay prone upon the earth.