The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1860-03-30
Old Husbands and Young Wives.

that's all about it. ought to have known
better, she was not to blame, poor thing, she
is but child yet, and these baubles pleased
her ambitious mothers eye. 1t was not the
old man, but his money-his-money-
might have known that. May and Decem-
ber-pshaw, how could ever have believed
that Mary Terry could love an old fellow
like me - and Mark Ware surveyed himself
in the mirror.
Sect reflects portly old man Of sixty,
with ruddy face, snow white h,ir and eyes
from which the light of youth has long since
departed. And yet there is FIRE in that old
mans veins, too--see how he strides across
the carpet, calculating With fresh emphasis,
Yes was an old iool-an old fool. But l
will be kind to her-I am not the man to
:yrannize over young girl because her mo-
,her took her out Of the nursery to make her
my wife. | see now it is not in reason for a
young girl like her to stay contentedly at
home with my frosted head and gouty feet.
Poor little Mary. No-lll not punish her
because she cannot love me, she shall have
what she wants, and 60 where she likes, her
mother is only too proud to trot her ont as
the wife of the rich Mark Ware. If that will
make them both happy, let them do it-may-
be-and here Mark Ware paused-'may be
after she has seen what the Dead Sea apple
the worlds made of, she will come back
and love the old man little-maybe-who
knows? No woman who is believed in and
we'll treated ever makes bad wife, there
never was bad wife yet, but there was a
bad husband first. That's gospel-Mark's 5
gospel anyway, and Mark Wares going to
act upon it. Mary shall 60 to the ball to-
night with her mother, and l will stay at
home and nurse my patience and equity leg.
There's no evil in her-she's as pure as lily
and if she wants to see the world, why-she
shall see it, and though can't 60 dane
ing round with her, III never dim her bright
eyes -no-no.'
That will do, Tiffy, another pin in this
lace-now move that rose little to the left
so-that will do
That will do Tame praise for that small
Grecian head with its crown of braided tress-
es, for the full round throat, the snowy, slo-
ping shoulders, for the round ivory arms and
the tapering, rose-tipped fingers, for the love
" bosom and the dainty waist. Well might
such beauty dazzle Mark Wares eyes till he
failed to discern the difference between May
and December.
Mark Ware had rightly read Mary. Sht
was guileless ard pure, as he had said, anC
child as she was, there was that in her man
ner before which the most audacious eye
would have shrunk back from intrusion a
Dashed.
When the young bride had realized thu
full import of those words she had been mad,
to utter, 'til[death do us part she looked
forward with shuddering horror to the long
monotonous, weary years before her. He
home seemed prison, and Mark Ware tn
keeper. Its very splendor oppressed her
And she chafed and fretted in her gilded fet
tiers, while her restless heart cried out, AN
where but home Mus: she sit there in he
prison house day after day listening only t.
the repinings Of her own troubled heart ?
= Had God made her beauty to fade in the st
, fling atmosphere of darkened parlors lister
, ing to the complaints Of querulous old age
Every pulse of her heart rebelled. Ho,
could her mother have sold her? How coul
Mark Ware have SO unmagnanimously az
cep:ed the compulsory sacrifice? Why nc
y show her the world and let her choose fo
- herself? Any where, any where, from sue
home.
There was no lack of invitations abroat
for Mary had flashed across the fashionabl
horizon like some bright comet, eclipsing a
the reigning beauties. No ball, no part,
:, no dinner, was thought a success sitho,
her. Night after night found her en- rou1
!. to some gay assemblase. To her astonisl
ment and her foolish mothers delight, ht
husband never remonstrated-o: the contr;
= ry, she often found upon her dressing tab
y so me choice little ornament which lie prov
- ded for the occasion, and Mary, as she ia
:. tened it in her hair or bosom, would say bi
terly, He is anxious that l, like the oths
appendages of his establishment, should r
: feet credit on his taste
. Mistaken Mary.
i Time passed on. Mark Ware was'patien
70 as he promised himself to be. His evenin,
3. were not SO lonely now, for his little bal
ID kept him company, the reprieved nurse on
Sc too glad to escape to her pink ribbons and
at chat with John at the back gate. 1t was
nj pretty sight-Mark and the babe. Old a;
s. and infancy were always touching sight t
to gether. Not smile or cloud passed ov
,e that little face that did not wake up the fat
10 er in Mark Wares heart and he paced Il
10 room with h or rocked it to sleep on b
al breast, talking to it as if it could understa'
of the deep love of which it was the unconscio
IN object.
it. i am weary Of this said Marks you1
ve wife, as she stepped into her carriage at t
close of brilliant tall. i am weary of ST