Sunbury American. [volume] (Sunbury, Pa.) 1848-1879, 1867-05-18
TALES & SIX ETCHES.
PICKED UPHN THE ROW.
A STORY FOUNDED ON FACTS.

An ominous cloud had been gradually
growing up from the western horizon, and
at last had crept over the face of the sun
and hidden him from sight But the riders
and walkers took no notice-as who ever
docs take notice when pleasure is at the
helm 7-of the coming shower, but laughed
and chatted as though it were the first day
they had come into the beautiful world and
were to last forever. A brave sight Rotten
Row was that morning, sight such as is
not to be matched in any other corner OF
the world. The ride was filled with
dense crowd. The lovely English girls,
flushed with the exercise, passed by like
goddesses OF their beautiful English horses,
while ever and anon low musical laugh
broke on the hum of conversation, which the
stiffness of the air-the sure presage OF a
storm-rendered sensible. Among them
and beside them rode the cavaliers, now
restraining with firm hand the impetuosity
of their horses, now, perchance, bending
low in whispers not meant for the common
ear The flower of the gentlemen of Eng
land were there. The Heir Apparent to the
throne, at their head, cantered down the
row on his favorite grey, through grove OF
doffed hats, returning with scrupuious con-
sideration every salute made to him. Chan
cellors of the Exchequer, past and present,
were there, seeking relief from official toll
and renewal of strength to deal with dull,
dry figures. Civil servants were there, rid
ing Off the effects OF breakfast, before giving
themselves up to the crushing labor Of their
respective offices. Ambassadors, attaches,
and secretaries of legation were there, intent
on performing the agreeable duties of society
which are so large part OF their business.
Idle elder sons with titles and estates were
there, smiling and happy in the conscious
ness of balance on the right side at Their
bankers. Idle younger sons without title
or estates too were there, not less smiling
and happy, though with the consciousness
of balance on the wrong side at their tai
lor's, All the various elements OF which
fashionable society is composed in fact, were
there, cantering, trotting, walking, and iol-
| lowing out meantime, each one his own
particular scheme of love, pleasure or busi-
ness. Those who were not riding, saunter-
ed up and down the sidewalk, or lounged
| upon the iron chairs which the far seeing
enterprise of a considerate speculator had
provided for their USE The walk Itself
stretched from the Apsley House to the Ser
pentine like gay and living parterre, and,
| by the brilliancy and freshness of the toilet
ties, in which white of course predominated,
served to form a contrast with the more
sombre hues of the riders, with whom at a
hundred points it was holding gay and ami
mated converse, caressing with delicately-
| gloved hand the shining coats of the horses,
| looking up from under hats with temerlty
or from under infnitesimal bonnets with
timidity, and betraying, in spite of all efforts,
the hopes and fears, the agitations and de-
lights which go to make up the old, old
tale of love. TO the most superficial OBJ
server the scene is delightful; but how
much more delightful to him who lives be-
hind the scenes-who holds the key to each
one OF the little dramas that are being en-
acted around-who can trace to its source
the expression on each face, and appreciate
the force of situations which to the gallery
appear commonplace. He knows why Miss
Lane puts down her veil when poor young
Rasper comes by; why Sir John, her father,
breaks into canter when the Marquis has
passed them and why young Rasper, who
is counted a good rider, gets cannoned
against and objurgated for not looking
where he is going to. He knows why Clara
Westland has come cut alone with the groom,
and why she rides right along to Queens
Gate, where nobody ever goes. He also
knows why that young scamp Tom Rufiler
| nhco W Stdnu uOWn III LuC same QlTeCtlOu,
under a tree, in order to admire the Albert
Memorial. He knows, too, why handsome
Jack Fairfax is talking politics to the wick
ed old Adullamite Lord Swansdown, in a
loud voice, on one side, and something else,
in lower tone, to the daughter, Lady Jane,
on the other. He knows why Jack sudden.
| ly recognizes somebody he never saw before,
in the side walk when poor Miss Julia Nor
ton passes him (; and he understands why
Julia insists on going home to lunch, al
though it is not yet one O'clock.
| Thinking of all these things, and taking
credit to myself for being a philosopher,
and so moved myself by none of them, | was
walking my horse quietly along and reflect
ing with economical regret upon the Ga
mage was doing to the brim of my hat, in
the performance of the half-summersault
which represents the only proper mode of
saluting ladies,-when, suddenly, in the
middle of my fortieth bow, was conscious
OF great movement among the riders, and
at the same instant an enormous rain drop
fell exactly on the top of my uncoved head.
The shower was coming at last, and its ad-
vent was like the irraption of hawk into
nest of doves. Every rider put spurs into
his or her horse and started of ut full gal
lop, some for shelter and the more iimid for
home. 1t was perfect stampede; and the
mounted policemen who had been stationed
! in the Row that morning, for the first time,