The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1862-01-15

wishing again and again that he might
thus proclaim and maintain his love be-
fore the world. 1t pleased me to listen
to this, and to believe it sincere, though l
had no wish to put my lover to such test.
A shot suddenly rung through the still
woods, and wounded bird darted past,
huttered and fell at the feet of Brown
Bess With bound and spring that
nearly unseated me, she was off.
Struggling to regain my seat, | had no
power to restrain her; and even as she
flew, the fear and madness of the moment
grew upon her. I could only cling breath
lessly and convulsively to the name
snd bride, and wondered helplessly where
this mad gallop was to end. She swerv-
ed from passing wagon, and turned into
path that led to the river. In the sud-
den movement the reins were torn from
my hands, and [ could not regain them.
| clung to the name and closed my eyes
that | might not see the fate that awaited
me. How sweet was life in those prec-
ious moments that | thought my last =
all its joys, its affections, its last crown
ing love rose up before me | thought
of the pang that would rend Elliot's heart
as he saw me lying mangled aud dead;
and then the thought would come if he
were pursuing and trying to save me, even
as he had said, at the risk of life and limb.
| remembered no more. | felt sud
! den shock, a fearful rushing through the
air, and knew DO more until, days after
wards, [ woke to a faiut, weak semblance
of life in my chamber at home.
Inever saw Captain Elliot again. The
last words | ever heard from his lips were
those Of knightly daring. The last act of
his life in connection with mine, was to
follow in the train Of frightened youths
who rode after NE, to contemplate the dis
aster from afar, and as soon as he saw me
! lifted from the shallow bed CT the river.
into which | had been thrown when my
frightened horse stopped suddenly on its
bank, he rode hastily off. That evening
he sent to make Inquiries, and learning
that | was seriously, but it was hoped not
fatally injured, he henceforth contented
himself with such tidings Of my condition
and improvement as could be gained from
mere rumor.
At last it was known that I could new
er entirely recover from the effects of my
injury, and that very day Capt. Elliot de-
parted suddenly from ths neigbborhood
He made DO attempt to see me, nor sent
me any farewell When [ was once about
aud beginning, though with uuaiIoyed
bitterness, to learn the lesson of patience
and resignation that awaited me, recelV-
ed letter from him, in which he merely
said that he presumed my own judgement
had taught ne that in my altered circum-
stances, our engagement must be at an
end but to satisfy his own sense of hon
or (hiS honor p be wrote to say that, while
entert2iuing the highest respect for me,
he desired Il formal remuneration Of my
claim.
Writing at the bottom of this letter,
''Let it be as you wish," | returned it to
him at once, and thus ended my brief
dream Of romantic love.
| had heard ere this Of Elliot's coward
ly conduct on that day; and l now first
bethought me to enquire who had rescued
me from imminent death. And then [
learned that James Frazier, his arm al
ready broke by the jerk with which Brown
Bess tore away from him as he caught at
her bride, had ridden after me, and been
the first to lift me from the water Many
times daily he had made inquiries con-
cerning me. HIS had been the hand that
sent the rare flowers that decked my room.
HIS were the lips that breathed words of
comfort and hope to my poor mother. His
were the books ] read in my lingering
days of convalescence and his, now, was
the arm that supported me, as slowly and
painfully [ paced the garden walks.
| have been his wife for many year.
l have forgotten that he is not handsome
or rather, he is beautiful to me, because
l see his grand and lovely spirit shining
through his plain features and apimating
his awkward figure. | have long since
laid aside as utterly uatenable, my pet
theory that beautiful spirits dwell only in
lovely bodies 1t may be providential
compensation that, in denying physical
perfection, the soul is not dwartcd or dis
torted, but shines the brighter that it is
not marred by petty vanity or love Of the
worlds praise.
ETERNITY has no grey hairs. Here
the flowers fade, the heart withers, man
grows old and dies, the world lies down
in the sepulchre of ages; but time writes