The Cass County Republican. [volume] (Dowagiac, Mich.) 18??-1880, 1861-09-19
My Beau.
BY COUSIN MAY CARLETON.

Perhaps it may not be known to the
world in general that I've got a beau |;
but however deplorably ignorant the
readers of the Mercury and the remain
ing few of the human speices may be
of that important fact; it's mo less
strange than true. AS it's the first time
| ever had one land dare not say the
last too). l intend to sit down, good
folks, and tell you all about it this morn
ing, now that I've had my breakfast,
and slapped all my little brothers and
sisters, and worked myself into good
humor generally. / wouldn't say any
thing about it, reader; only as you and
have become pretty good friends by
this time, l flatter myself you have
beer this many day anxious to know.
Therefore if you'll promise not to men,
tion it again-for l wouldn't like it to
become public-I'll just tell you the
way it happened.
One morning, while / sat looking in
the glass, and wondering why the mis-
chief Nature couldn't have made me
handsome while she was about it, see-
ing it would have been all the same
bother to her, the door slowly opened,
and my cousin, Sam Wilkins, stalked
into the room, and threw himself into
a chair without ever raising his eyes
from the floor. There was an express
sion of utter despair on his face, that
seemed to defy consolation and nearly
frightened the few senses / ever had
out of me. t-.-r-s ,e+.
My goodness Sam, what's the
matter? I? What's happened? Has the
tailor spoilt the fit of your coat, OF
won't your moustache sprout, or has
Sarah Jane given you the cold shoul
der? Do tell me, I'm awful anxious.
"Worse than that" said Sam, fixing
his eyes with deep groan, on the fire
shovel and twisting uneasily in his chair
, "Worse! Mercy on us, Sam!''
cried, with a little shrek, els it the
sheriff after your cigar bill, or" s,i
"Worse still p said Sam, with an
other groan, more hollow than the first
cone might survive an arrest, but II
be blowed if I'll ever live through this
I've got myself into pretty mess, i
ever any one did. It's worse thar
toothache even, and l wish I'd neve
been born;" and Sam thrust his hand
i into his pockets, and began whistlins
r sold Grimes is dead" to keep from
! bursting into tears! .s or of bis
f 60 Sam, what can it be ?" / ex
claimed, wroughtup to the highest pitcl
/ of excitement by his melancholy ha
e rangue. "Sarah Jane must have givel
Z you the mitten, or you'd never take o.
. so dreadfully. If she has, don't cry
i and I'll 60 and persuade her to forgiv
: you again." M las as -,
IN" Jerusha, you are good fell
mean GIRL" said Sam, with emotion
!. "but faint that. "The fact is" (her
he turned very red, and squirmed a
though his chair was cushioned wit
skinned eels) Pm going to be, that
l intend to bel mean-pshaw, wha
dye-call-it-married? ? >a'a5 Esd ~
The last word was bolted out wit
such vehemence, that Sam turned fror
red to purple, and folding his arm,
leaned back and looked me fiercely j
the face, as though expecting a torrer
of abuse to follow the announcement
this rash intention. Not being in tn
least surprised or angry, heard it wit
Christian resignation, and merely said
"La! Sam, you don't say so. T
Sarah Jane, / suppose ?" lr2si9a37
"Yes," said Sam-resuming his d,
ieeted tone" / popped the questio
last night after her father and motht
went to bed. And / tell you what, L
sooner chaw grindstones for wee
than to have such job to do agail
!: You're a girl, and don't understand IN
5 feelings, but it was the tightest plae
l ever was in, in my life, while | ws
3 asking Sarah Jane to love me. There
mt this here pocket handkerchief, it Wa
SIS dry when / left home, and it was wrin.
ii ing wet with perspiration off my fac
afore / got through. It's easy enoug
for you girls that's only got to loc
: down and blush, and say ssyes," whe
;. it comes to point; but it's blame
hard on the fellers, specially when yc
" don't know but what you will get sc ne
for an answer. I'd sooner be groun
in grist mill, and baked into Johnr
= cake after, than pop the questic
, again )" and once more Sam clappe
his eyes on the fire shovel, and sighe
like furnace.