Fremont journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County [Ohio]) 1853-1866, 1866-11-09
misGelIaneons Selections.
WHY HE MARRIED,

sand you don't know when you wi
pass through this part of the country again
Mr.. VarleyF'
"No, don't" said the old bachelor, de
decidly.
He sOas something of bear to answe
SO crustily, when Barbary Smith stood il
the doorway, with the shadowy lashe
dropping over her soft brown eyes, anC
the roses melting into deep carmine Oh
her cheek so that her pink muslin dress wa
pale in comparison. Such pretty, brigh
eyed, loveable little Barbara as she was
in all the blooming freshness of her eigh
teen summers, and the soft sigh that fut
tered up from her lips as the one horse car
riage drove away, was checked instantly
Barbara had no idea of becoming victim
to uurequitted love, though she lad rathe
faneied Mr. Joseph Verley during his brie
soiourn at her fathers house.
Mr.. Varley drove away through the
rustling green draperies of the summer
lanes, whistling softly as he drove.
Il shall be in very good time for the
twelve-thirty train, he meditated to him.
self "Punctuality is the soul of business,
and l never was one of the behind hand
tribe, thank providence. Besides, l think
it was becoming rather dangerous to stay
at that place any longer. "Pm thirty,
nine tomorrow week, and that's just
twenty years too old for me to 60 making
fool of myself. Fancy me getting mar.
ried No you doD't Joseph Verley, my
friend"
AS he settled himself comfortly in the
crowded railroad car, and opened letter,
the subject again recurred to his mind
with curious persistence.
'The letter from my poor brothers ex-
ecutors came ust in time, or | should GER
tainly have lounged away more time at
Toms than would have been either profit
able or sensible. Poor, dear Harold; 1
don't see; what on earth possessed him to
fall sick and die on the way home from
Venice, and leave bis daughter on my
hands, too. Why couldn't he have left a
son instead of daughter? l never did
understand a woman's way, and what's
more, l don't want to. am to meet her
at Speedville, and cake her home with me,
ehT groaned Mr.. Verely, referring de-
spairingly to his letter. "And what am
going to do with her when get her there,
I'd like to know! Isuppose she's great
tall creature, with ringlets and ribbons,
and just as likely as not, an Italian lover,
chattering sentiment to her-a creature
that reads Byron, and keeps an album, and
eats slate pencils and chalk. I'll send her
to boarding school-that's what I'll do
with my niece-and perhaps when she
has graduated there, the school ma'am
can suggest some means of getting rid of
her. OF course she'll have half a dozen
huge trunks, and a bonnet box, and par
rot cage-that's the way women gener-
ally travel, believe. 1 am glad Pm out
of the way Of Barbara's facinations now.
One woman is quite enough to keep me
distracted with her freaks and her fancies
-two of 'em would drive me to suicide w
Mr.. Varley looked out of the car win
dow in sort of calm desperation at the
prospect that lay before him.
81 suppose she'll want a piano, and may
be poodle dog-and there's no knowing
what else. l don't see why Harold wan
ted to die and leave his daughter to my
care just now. Speedville Station-let
me see; twenty-seven miles further on. l
wish it was twenty hundred miles
that's what wish!"
And, with this vindictive sentiment in
his mind, our hero tied silk pocket-hand-
kerchief over his head, and tried to lose
himself in a series of brief troubled
dreams, wherein the vision of tall niece
figured largely.
care we here already ?" he stammered,
starting to his feet, as the conductor bawl-
ed out, 'Speedville Sta-a-tion!" and seiz-
ing umbrella, valise and travelling shawl,
with the bustling bewilderment peculiar
to people reused suddenly from sleep.
Speedvile was rather large sized vii
lage, situated at the junction of several
bustIing, striving little place,
with an imposing American Gothic struc-
ture as depot. Into this building Mr..
' erley walked, looking flght ana le1tf
the young lady whose guardianship he
was about to assume.
''For, of course" he reasoned, mentally,
''she'Il be on the lookout for me-women
are proverbially curious"
But Harold Verley's daughter was not
On 'the look out" for her unknown uncle.
When the crowd incident to the coming
and going of the evening train had subsi-
led, and people had gone their several
ways. tie only remaining occupants of the
1epot were Mr.. Verley, lame old man
who sold peanuts and oranges, and de-
cent looking colored woman with bril-
liant Madras turban on her head, who took
,are Of the building.