Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1864-06-04

I Feeling sure that had committed some
terrible fassr mas, / was about to rush from
the room. when Mr. Leverton shouted:
" What |! won't you say good nightg"
He offered me a nard dry hand to shake.
I made clumsy bow to Miss Leverton.
"What, David" he exclaimed, shake
hands with the father, and only bow to the
daughters That won't do" - -
Miss Leverton offered her hands The pres
sure of that soft palm sent an electric thrill,
half pleasurable, half painful, all up my arm:
Her father then pushed me in trough, good
humored way out of the house, and locked
the door after me, saying: " 60 straight
home, David. No more ponderings tonight
on the river bank"
| slept indifferently. Strange visions dis
turbed my rest. Emily Leyerton, seated on
a side-saddle, rode anenormous perch, which
lowered over my bed then her father APP
peared, armed with Dutch cheese, which
he flung at my head. l awoke with cry OF
fear. s }tt On aE .j3.3o &
I" All, you may well sing out, Master Gram.
pus; and I'll send another at your head II
you do it again. -
1t was Tabbs who spoke, a feroeious bully
ing boy. He sat up in in bed, looking most
truculent, with his nightcap cooked over his
left ear. He brandished slipper in his left
hand. zto, tf sNe agE hF.
"Do what 2" asked in my absurd treble
-voce. -asa
ssDo what? 4" said Tubbs, mimicking my
shrill speech. "Do what? why, snore.
You've been snoring loud enough to wake
old Wickham.' 1&m
Have / /? I'm sorry for it," s.. Sci
"Do it again, and you'll get this slipper,
and cold pig into the bargain" growled
the bully, composing himself to sleep, for il
was barely five o'clock.
| This was melancholy awakening. IneveI
loathedPoplar House Academy so much as
| did that morning. i tried to go to SLEEP
again, and dream of the big perch with its
fair rider; but fear of ''cold pig u was not
gifted with personal courage-keptme awake
| till it was time to get up. toA
| REPAIRED more diligently than ever dur
| ing the next few days TO my riverside haunt
partly to escape from the inquisitiveness Of
my companions, who wanted to know why
that fish preserving hunks, old Leverton, had
invited me to supper.
| 81 know why" replied u small youth OF
nine, about the hight (metaphorically) of six
penny-worth of halfpenee. /" / know why.
He wants Goliath to marry his daughter"
| The handsomest and tallest boy i'll the
school--his head just reached my chin-im'
mediately boxed the little urchin's ears, say
| ing, as he placed his hand on his hip, and
ran his fingers carelessly through his light
curls:
Il fiatter myself she could choose much
better"
Poor Goliath blushed scarlet, and skunk
away to the river.
| had not the least idea then-such an in
nocent was What was the matter with me
but have since discovered that /, the over
grown boy of fourteen, was in love with
Emily Leverton.
broke both the large and small blade o.
my pocket knife, trying 20 carve +. l.. OF
one of the old willows. l attempted tC
make rhymes to her name ; but could think
| of none but Everton, which smacked o.
toffey. | tried to catch a glimpse of hel
father, but was unsuccessful. l now and ther
observed the top-oint of his fshing-rod peep
| ing Though the trees; but, though he mus
have seen me, he showed no signal OF recog
milton. r4
A fortnight of anxious expectancy passed
away | was waiting as usual by the river fol
the school supper bell to ring, when again .
| hand was laid on my shoulder. Although
| had anticipated the touch of those fingers
for thirteen successive evenings, l started as
convulsively as if Mr.. Leverton had put a
frog down my back.
Nervous, eh ?" said he. ave shall cure
that. Ii is not good for man to be alone
Let me see" he continued, stroking his chin
contemplatively. Twenty years old. Then
you will be twenty-one next birth!"
eyes, sir" | murmured, feeling what q
falsehood was wrapped up in this seeming
truism. "0n the ninth of September"
"Hum-ha," said Mr.. Leverton. Supper
waits for you"
Again dish of fish, Dutch cheese and ale
was less shy this time began TO talk, and
told my host all about my family. Emily
looked lovely in her simple white muslm.--
| After supper, at her fathers bidding, she
opened the pianoforte and sang few songs
| was in the seventh heaven, and the singer
was St. Cecilia.
Her father broke the spell.
Come" he said, looking at the clock
"'tis time TO go-I will walk with YOU"
As soon as we were outside the house he
spoke thus, as if in soliloquy:
"Twenty-one in September; he will dc
admirably. Gentle, innocent aud pliable j
shall mould him like wax. Instead of losing
a daughter, shall gain son. David, you
shall marry Emilyw esa
| stood in the moonlight with my mouth
wide open, looking, | suspect, like gigantic
baby.
Sir" stammered.
"Wouldn't you like to marry herr"
"Yes."
Every well-then that is settled. In the
midsummer holidays shall come and talk 70
your father about it, David. Till then" he
said. sternly, "silence. Good night" l-
After this conversation, l was frequently
invited to Mr.. Leyerton's abode. We did
not always have fish for supper-still, fru-
| gality was the rule of the household. / had
| overcome my shyuess with the recluse, and
in his company conversed pretty freely; but,
alone with Emily, sat as mum as stock
| fish. Ny attempts at counting consisted in
turning over the leaves of her music book,
invariably at the wrong moment doubt if
Jennie Deans thought the Laird OF Dumbie-
dikes as dun as Emily must have found me-
began TO fancy, too, that the young lsdy's
manner had grown ffigid and constrained.
saw furtive tear occasionally start from her
eyelids. What on earth did it means
went home for the midsummer holidays,
and found myself confronted by a sad CAL
amity. Ny dear father, who had so often
measured others, died suddenly, and. was
himself measured-for his coffin. Shortly
after the funeral, his viii was read. He had
been prosperous professional man, and had
saved money After nravidius Cor my nAO.h.
er and sisters, and leaving the business TO my
elder brothers, my name was mentioned: ~
ITO my beloved son David Ileaye the sum
of five thousand pounds--to be held in trust
for his benedt until he shall have attained his
majority"
A I iistanai To these words with feelings