Evansville daily journal. (Evansville, Ind.) 1863-1866, 1865-06-24
Gbe q ally auurnaI.
Parson Dove. storr.

no one could have thought her anything
but pretty, standing by the garden gate
with her apron full Of wild flowers, and
her curls, lifted by the wind, dancing
around her forehead like q swarm OF
golden bees
my daughter, Rose said her father,
and she put her little white hand into
mine GO q child might have done, just az
simply and prettily, so that it was very
bard for me 10 shake it and let IL 20 in
stead Of keeping it.
But there was somsbody else 10 shake
hands also, and he, standing on the
other aide OF Deacon Olnstead, put cat
his long, lank fingers, in black silk
gloves, and performed the ceremony
which he always went through with when
any one offered 10 shake hands with him,
and which could not have been agreeable
to anything except the village pump.
"Mr Binerwortb, said Deacon Olm-
stead, waving his hand toward my COM
pspion with impressmeni, aMr Dove"
end be glanced 81 me. Who should say
he 10 Of 10 importanee9 rIa.tea ready,
my desrT' eins4o~sr
She replied that tea was ready and
We went into the old-fashioaed house,
for We were both going TO take tea With
Deacon Olmstead, and, moreover, ito
spend The night beneath his root, having
come 10 W on church bushes 90, Dea-
con Olmstead always making point Of
entertaining two young ministers on
su' h occasions. ~ isi o. ii'taa
The Rev. erjamia Bitterworth was
much older than I, and much more inn
por;ant in every way. I had been late.
ly called to struggling little church,
exceedingly unfortunate 10 the way Of
difficulties and debts, where the congre-
cation seldom paid any salary, aud al
ways considered themselves illuaed by
tho minister, who, in turn, was somehow
always injured by parsonage called Ell
der Bagshaw, and somebody was always
accused of misappropriating the church
fun1s never could discover what they
were And the Rev. Silas Snow, having
taken French leave in great disguise the
congregation had called for an enter
prising young minister, and had been
selected. But for Benjamin Bitterworth
warm neat had been ready, and every
one had predicted his immense sueceaa.
His was n country church also, but it
was rich one, and he had trisnds and.
influence and everything which had
not Deacon 0lmssead showed that he
knew this by every glance OF his eys
and every tone Of his voice. ~ Z
But Rose Olmstead, who-her father
being minister--was mistress Of the
house, exhibited no such partially On
the contrary, thinkIshe liked me best;
and though Benjamin Bitterworth, long
emil lank, leaned across the table 10 talk
10 her in his oily tones over and over
again, somehow she always returned to.
our old conversation as often as she
could, and made me very happy with her
girlish pratt n ,is89gs-t
She knew the village watch had been
my boyhood's home, and had seen and
ppoken to q sister Of mine, dead years be-
foe; 30 We found many subjects in
common Bat even bad we had none
had we spoken in different language,
unintelligible to each other--I am sure
that to have sat beside Rose Olmstead,
with her eyes looking into mine--not
boldly, only frApkly-would have been
worth the most eloquent words that ever
fell from any other woman's lips.
1t was a very happy evening; for az
forwards, in the cleaning, we went out
upon the porch, and she took me down
to see the roses in the garden and the
honey suckle arbor over the little seat
where she sat every afternoon at work,
and we stayed 80 long that Deacon Ohm
stead came down after US, and scolded
Rose for wet'ing her feet with the dew,
and had something of great moment to
cay TO me, so that Benjamin Bitterworth
offered bis arm to Rose TO escort her
through the garden, while l walked be-
hind with her father.
We went back to the porch after that |
and into the parlor, and soon there we're |
family prayers and genial good night i
Bot i being bright summer evening,
with all the windows open, i, sitting At |
mine, and looking at the moon, heard |
some one tiuging, and knew that, Of all |
that household, il could only be Rose. |
Ii was q sad song and sweet one-a
farewell, aplaintiva fall in il that was
very touching; and / kneIt beside my |
window, and with my head upon my |
hand shed tears, thinking what il Iwers
that departing lover, and Ress On
stead sung that farewell song to me.
Do we never unconsciously reach the /
fu ure7 Sometimes / thin So
As we walked away to take the stage
the next morning, Benjamin Bitterworth |
wore Aqneer smile upon his face, ard
rubbed his long black gloves as though |
something pleased him nightly. At
last be said TO me in his oily tones, with
a peculiar affectation Of accent which It
had pleased him to adopt: s. iIhott5 La
Brother Dove, l want 10 ask your
.-.nsas an n -, -
This was odd Ny opinion had never
been considered Of any Importance be-
fore, but bowed my head and waited.
"Do you believe, Brother Dove, that
Rose 0lmstead would make good cler-
gynan's wife. .8IooII
That was the question. NY cheeks
flushed scarlet Ny heart beat loudly,
but turned toward Benjamin and look
ed him full in the face.
~ know shs would make 6 good wife
for any nan who might be fortunate
enough to win her love- I answered.
"Lovef Benjamin Bitterworth ele-
waited his eyebrows We are not
speaking Of love, believe" he said,
shut Of Fitness. We should put the vani-
ties of this carnal world out of the ques-
tion When sOs look for wives, Brother
Dove" nf1g2 YTFr1
~ believe that she would be admira.
bly, fitted for the position, he said, "andf
] intend 10 act upon the belief have
been resolved 20 marry for several years,
and Deacon Olmstead's daughter ap-
pears to have excellent qnalitiea-II
shall offer her my hand" ISL
perhaps she will not accept"
I aaid il angrilV Nv voica wss nnt /,
under my control at the moment Bsnja
min Bitterworth understood mel saw
that 10 his cold, black eye. But he
ansWsred without emotion
II er father would decide that, think.
BE is . man of judgment. and sAs is an
ebedient daughter. s agrs
"Perhsps she might ohooss for her
SELF" answered .qF III