Delaware gazette. [volume] (Delaware, Ohio) 1855-1886, 1866-03-16
DELAWARE, OHIO, FRIDAY, MARCH Is, 1856

/ PrinCely, after a little while.
/ Il N very sorry to hear 1t, F" said L
4 don't believe you, she said, pout
ing.
why not?'
You d not care if all the world wer,
| going, she said. If you were to hear
/ we're dead tomorrow yOu'd never grieve.
| Indeed I should"
/ "Oh, you men I" she said, coquettishly
/ But do you know my poor little bones
/ quite long for home again 1t Is grow
/ ing chilly here as autumn advances. Ny
hands are quite chapped, and my lips
/ Just look st them. She pUTsed them VI
in a very tempting way, and [ bent for
ward.
Il can't see, l said. Its too dark
/ I must tell By the sense of touch.
It's strange how such bashful fellow
as l had been, could have grown so saucy
on a sudden; but l told you before !
was bewitched. I had kissed her as I
spoke, and she gave me little soft slap
and said, oh, how dare you Ia any
thing but an angry voice.
They re very soft yet for chapped lips,
I said and just then turning, I saw in
the moolight pale, frightened face look
| ing over the hedge which divided the
two gardens There for moment stood
Hetty. looking at US both. The next mo-
ment saw it sink, and heard some one
cry why, what Is the matter with Hetty ?
| think she has tainted. "
How much she heard | never knew,
but [ know she saw me kiss that girl.
The next day a farm hand brought me
a little parcel and a note from Hetty:
L send back your presents she wrote.
I wish you could return all the love l
have given you. 1t Is over now, but l
am ashamed Of ever having cared for one
so treacherous and tickle.
Those cold words only. Five hours
afterwards l had left home and was far
away, with only few dollars in my p0ck-
ct and bundle of clothes on a stick ov-
er my shoulders.
A vessel was about to sail for England
when I reached New 7 ork, and [ shipped
before the mast.
Tho l went half around the world, and
went TO many a land never forgot Hetty,
and [ knew [ never could be happy again;
but l was most like myself In a storm, or
when there was any danger that excited
me. One thing they thought odd IN me
Il never cared to look at or speak to a
woman when we went ashore pretty or
ugly, young or old, 1t was all the same.
At last I wrote letter to mother, but
not often, and [ never asked a question
about Hetty [ didn't care to hear what
[ supposed l should, that she had mar
ried some one else.
When my mother died, father was not
fond of writing, and [ sent him presents
instead Of letters, and had no chance of
hearing.
I'll not make my long story longer by
telling my adventures at sea, or how we
came, after | was first mate, to fall In with
pirate on the high seas. We beat him
but l was wounded, and they took me up
for dead. | lived however; and though
[ had lost Il leg, aud had a great scar
across my cheek, seemed likely to live.
I came back to America, and my heart
being sOftened by long illness, I lOnged
to see home and my good old father so
from New York, ] travelled to my native
place. [ was thirty-six years old on the
day when 1 limped through Butler, where
the stage stopped and saw the gar
den in which / had given Miss Prineely
that kiss which had cost me so much.
My heart was so full that l could have
went Butler and our place had grown
such near neighbors that they were al
most one. Only two or three green fields
lay between them "A new street had
been built, and the tavern now stood on
that It was altered, and had wings and
another story, but there was a sign-The
Town Hotel, w. Trab5. A boy was
lounging at the door.
Is old Mr. Trabb living yet?' I ask
ed.
''Yes Sir, said the boy, and he's right
smart,-though they say he IS over ninety.
He'll not remember me, l thought
III go in and see him.
I knew the way to the parlor, and /
went toward it. The hall was Oil-clothed
and painted, and when I looked into the
room I hardly knew it. Its walls were
papered, and it was furnished as modern
parlors were But l did know the form
that stood there-the slight, fair woman
with her bands of golden r-Hetty-
older, but not altered-the sweet girl
changed to a lovely woman. She bent
over the chair IN which her old father
sat, and, standing there, l heard him
| speak, his tones thinner than ofyore, and
with a quaver IN them.
NV dear. [ wish you'd think twice Of
! this. I'm sure John Wegt5rook would
make you good husband I'd ike tC
see you married before l die,
Papa" she answered, i m too old tC
marry IN thirty five. y
/ "A mere child yet, said the old man
/ "And you might have been married
/ twenty times I don't want to lose you
/ but John would like the business, anc
we'd live together Make up your minC
I to marry MN,
Il can't Papa; indeed 1 can't marry J OH
Westbrook [ mnst live and die an OLE
maid
II can't see why you should throw you
! life away, said the old man.
Dear papa, she said, 1T Is not vast
ing my life to spend it with you I have
never loved any. one but poor ArthU
Mafit, and it would be very wrong T.
marry without loving. He has all l eve
had to give.
The sea can not give up its dead, sal
the old man.
Amen = she said and bent her hea
upon her shoulder and wept aloud
Then. I crossed the threshold and gtoo
before them.
"Hetty, I am not worthy of your tears
l said. And with a cry, she turned an
fell fainting in my arms.
An hour after we sat alone together
and said to her:
"Hetty, [ have no right, altered as
am after so many years, to come betwee
you and a better man. But l am ver
selfish. Can you forget the bitterly-re
pented folly of an hour enough to forgiV
and bless a man who loves you, and ha
, always loved you, better than his life 2
Will you be a crippled sailors wife, He
ty. or must l take my lonely way agail
and bear my punishment until L die2
| waited for my answer, not daring
look at her until she put her little mill
! white woman's hand in my brown, roug
palm and left it there.