The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1865-10-10
CURED OF IATRINIONY.


But she looked very pretty, neverthe-
less. Girls will look pretty that have
eyes like blue morning gIories at four
o'clock in the morning, and rosy lips,
and round faces with satin brown hair
growing low on the forehead. Violet
knew she was pretty, and she knew, like
wise, that Mr.. Elijah Pellet was not
handsome.
The parlor curtains were elbowed aside
by great scented masses Of rose geraniums,
and Vioet's little piano was open close
by, giving the parlor cosy home-like
look that your brown stone palaces never
can rival, any more than the robins
Igilded cage rivals the mess,lined nest
swinging in the topmost fork Of that shad-
owv old beech tree
Violet was leaning over her fragrant
geraniums, resolutely taciturn, in blue
cachmere wrapper, with an edge of deli
cate lace at the slender throat and shapely
wrists while Mr.. Pellet sat square in
the middle of the sofa opposite, holding
his hat on his knees, and admiringly sur
veying Miss Power over the brim thereof.
A stout, Portly little man of forty or
thereabouts, with comfortable double
chin and hair carefully brushed to con-
ceal the bald spot on the top of his head,
he was lowering on the brink of the per-
ilouS line that separates old bachelorhood
from matrimony, an undecided aspirant.
II had fully made up my mind never
to marry" thought Mr.. Pellet. "I'm
not altogether certain as to the wisdom
of the thing, and yet, she is such trim,
pretty concern ~
Influenced BY these meditations, Mr..
Pellet put his hand slowly down into the
crown of his hat, and drew forth, shroud-
ed in wrappings Of silver paper, a stiff
little hot house boquet.
II knew Miss Violet was fond of flow
ers," he remarked, looking straight into
the hat, as # he expected another boquet
to spring up in the place Of the lost one,
"and so | thought"
lie stopped, foundering vainiy for an
idea to finish up with, and beat "Hail
Columbla" on the crown of his hat with
his finger ends
Five minutes elapsed in awkward ST.
lence, and then Mr.. Pellet came to the
conclusion that he had better go, and
rose accordingly.
pray come aud see Us again, Mr.. Pei
let" said Mrs Powers, sweetIy,
'FIhank ee," said that gentleman. [
an going out of town for day or two
that i5-a week, and will drop in when |
come back from Steel's Mills"
! "Steels Mills? ?" calculated Mrs. Power.
"Is that the place you are going to ?"
"Yes-it's about had debt of the
FIRMS"
"BIess me, what singular coinci-
dence," smiled Mrs. Power, "lly sister,
Mrs. William Corney, lives at Steeps
Mills Do pray call and see her"
81 shall be delighted, said Mr. Pellet
"And, Violet" pursued Mrs. Power,
"you can send those slippers to your
Uncle-it will be such an excellent op-
portunity."
"There is no hurry about them," said
Violet, IstlessIy.
"NIy darling I heard you say only
yesterday that you wished they were des-
patched. Bring them down Immediately
why, what can you be thinking Off"
Eiolet went-laughingly enough and
Mr. Pellet broke out into perspiration
Of satisfaction as he wrote down Mrs.
William Corneys address.
1t was nearly fifteen minutes before
Violet returned-and then, deep within
the brown paper cerements which wrap,
ped the worked slippers she had slid
tiny note And this is what it said:
"DIY DARLING AUNT DOLLY These |
slippers will be presented to you by the
most disagreeable old bachelor alive | .
wish he had gone to the bottom of the
tormonting poor little harmless me He's
going to propose-L know he is--and
papa will make me say yes, just because
the wretch owns bank stock and mort
cages. O, Aunty if I only had your
qaick wit and resolution. What shall |
do hide in the cellar when he comes or
invite him to tea and put strychnine in
the cup It's no laughing matter Aunt
Dolly want your shoulder to cry my
eyes out on, for mamma is on the enemy's
side. One thing is certain | shall be
wrotchod for life is he does marry me-
Pray think up some remedy for your dis
consulate little niece VIOLET"
And Mr. Elijah Pellet took the express
train for the station whence daily stage
crawled over the hills to Steels Mills,
with this rather uncomplimentary note
lurking in the toe of one of Uncle VIM.
Corney's new slippers,
A splendid old farmhouse, with its
sloping caves all hidden in snowy clouds