The penny press. [volume] (Cincinnati [Ohio]) 1859-1860, 1860-02-16

table, and wendell his wsyasto the club,
too much afflicted 10 stay at Zone
The next morning, at breakfast. he
looked up from his plate and said, in a
dismal tone-1Anabel, you will please
ihAfer allnde tony marrying again. You
wounded my heart beyond expression
last night"
20, dear brother, i am very sorry; but
have known several gentleman, who,
when they were unfortunate. enough to
lose their wife, found another, and l
thought -"
"Hushl hushl not another word on
this sad subject"
Three months passed away slowly but
sadly. Rachel was in her grave, and its
long shadow fell gloomily upon Angus
tus's heart and hearth. A weeping willow
had been planted over the dreary mound,
and waved It's long branches solemnly in
the breeze. A few fragrant violets grew
out Of poor Raohers head-that is, the
head Of her grave; and at her feet white
rosobush fourished In charming luxu-
rance. II was dainty little spot, poor
RachePs grave, and here Augustus paid
a visit every time he spied the church
yard gates open. Here he stood on
Sunday to think of Rachel, perhaps, or to
gaze more conveniently at the girlish
beauty Of Miss Villers, as she tripped
through the church-yard into the side
door of the church. This last idea was
promulgated by those proverbially spite
full lcreatures-the old maids of the church,
who, having lost all their youth, envy the
young, and who are as crazy to get mar
ried at forty as they were at twenty, and
who tear to shreds the characters Of their
more fortunate sisters, who win in the
worlds lottery that prize, husband. So
said Augustus when Anabel told him of
sundry remarks that had been made
concerning him.
"But it was not an old maid that SLAM
dered you, Augustus; it was married
lady. Mrs. Mountjoy says she has
watched you in church, and you look out
of the window with one fearful eye on
Raohels grave, whilst the other is
smilingly exploring the pretty face of
Miss Villers. She even says she saw you
on last Sunday gathering bouquet from
Rachers grave and present it to Miss
Villers as he was going into church, who,
placing it to her Grecian nose, thanked
you with her sweetest smile, little think
ing it smelt Of mortality. Poor, dear
Rachel, / don't know how she would rel
ish furnishing bouquets for her rival. l
don't say this, Augustus; Mrs. Montjoy |
said it Don't frown SO angrily; of course |
l don't believe word of it. / know how |
devotedly attached you were to dear Ra-
chel, and how you planted her grave,
and even took the watering pot in your
hands and d,,watered the plants to make
them grow, and how you treasured up in
tissue paper the last handkerchief she
used, and how you put her bonnet on the
table, and had little railing built around
it to keep profane hands away, and how
touching you draped her picture with
Grape! O, no, ! know you will nev er,
never marry again. Augustus was silent
Was it omnious? -eF
Four months and two weeks--then a
tall tombstone reared its lofty head amid
its sister tombs in the church-yard. IL
was a charming device--a stone figure
bending over stone urn, which urn was
to contain the ashes of the de-
parted Rachel
What is this, my dear2 asked Mr..
MontjOy, as he stood before the cleaning
marble. Is this figure the bereaved hus-
band. aH
0 no, my love, by no means, said Mrs.
Montjoy; are you not man enough 10
know that this is the deceased Rachel
herself, weeping over her own ashes2 IL
is most touchingly appropriate; we wives
feel it to be so, | assure you-for if ever
creatures had cause to weep for their own
deaths, we are the ones Scarcely is the
turf heaped above our cold clay when
the first mourner at our funeral straight
way goes and forgets what manner of
woman we were. Mary slips very
quietly into James place, and Ruth sits as
comfortable in the corner of the pew as if
six months before Ann had not cat there
before her.
My dear, your remarks astonish me. IF
you died, assure you most solemnly,
would weep for you forever.
Yes so you would, said Mrs. Montioy,
calmly; but how long, think you, is wild
overs forever.
o, Sarah, how little faith have you in
mans love.
have great faith in it SO long as it
lasts; but when woman is under ground,
her chances are small.
My dear, l protest would not marry
were l 80 unfortunate as to bury you.
No protestations, my love; l do not re-
luire them Of you. Do as you please
when am gone; I'll promise you not to
haunt your new wife. There comes Miss
Villers to see the tomb. How do you
like it. my dear?'
20, it's lovely y,cried the young lady enthu-
siastically. hope when die my hus-
band will treat me to just such a tomb
stone as this. n
No doubt, responded Mrs. Montioy, he
will treat you to this very one. Two Of
you can easily get under Il. The young
lady frowned and walked away.
Six months and two weeks and Angus.
tus and his sister sat in solemn conclave.
The great grief was over, the stormy
billows had subsided, the clouds had
passed away. The funeral meats were
about to furnish wedding feast. Angus.
tuo xuoo q 0osv,o "a ho vuo~S.nJ Nr..-y.ltI