North Branch democrat. [volume] (Tunkhannock, Pa.) 1854-1867, 1867-02-20

A LOVE sTORY.

OlS one was Ctlliu. one wore Lut oCfsu-
test of cotton dresses, belted at the waist,
a pair of leather boots and white apron.
Ir her hand she carried a sun-bonnet, and
her hair, cropped close like boys curled
in black rings about her head. The face
was baby's face in sweetness and limo
cence-the little brown hands the bands of
toll. No young lady this, yet there was
nothing coarse or vulgar about her, unless
it were those hands,
THAT is Oldtown Church, my DEAR" /
said. "Are you going there!"
"Yes, sir, to see the wedding. Are
you?"
Twas, more fool I, though did not say
so to this child. The brlde:for whom the
ellis were ringing, was to be mine once
would have been but for the accident
which had crippled me and changed her
heart She had done nothing openly
treacherous, hut | saw the truth and set
her free. She took her freedom gladly,
and we were two. She had qnite forgot
ten me, no doubt. believed then never
could forget her.
l knew exactly how she would look in
snowy silk and lace and coronet Of pearls
had dreamed of her in bridal robes so
often.
nodded l to the little thing beside me,
trudging over the tall grass almost to her
waist, looking at me wistIully.
IL never saw wedding" she said.
"No"
"No, sir. Grandfather said I might
come. He didn't care himself. It's a
long walk, too, from the tavern, and he's
very old"
"Does your grandfather keep the tav-
ern ?" asked.
"No, sir. I wish he did p said the
child. "He has only his fiddle, and peo-
pie half the tine don't care for tnnes.-
What else can he do, thought Tonight
there's dance, and he's to play for them
That's why We stopped
A poor fildlers untaught grandchild-
as poor as decent poverty could be-yet
her presence somehow cheered me. Half
child, half woman, and child at heart. In
nocent aud beautiful and kindly. i en-
couraged her to linger at my side. said
to her:
81 will show you place where you can
see the bride we'll. 1t is the gallery
Will you like that?"
81 don't know" she said 81 havn't
been to church often. We pray together
in lonely places, grandfather and |. Will
you b.. there, sir?
Eyes"
81 know shonld like it."
"Come with me, then," said, and she
followed me. ...
/ had meant to hide myself ir the gal
lery, and see lost love married, quite un-
seen. This companionship had not been
in my role at all. But liked it; no friend
no relation, not my own sister, would |
have added beside me; but Il is eIfsh
thing was too innocent to fear. | led the
way up the dark old stairs, and toward the
spot quite sheltered from the general view.
Then sat down, and she stood leaning
over the balustrade.
The church was full of bonnets. Here
and there only masculine head. The
minister was in his seat, reading, in posi-
ton taken for effect. He was a handsome
man. and knew it perfectly well.
Girls whispered and giggled, matrons
famed themselves, and men yawned. -
Soon the soft roll of carriages on the grav
el path was heard, and the beRlal-party
entered. | saw her at last-Aletta.
''Is that the bride?' half-snbbed the
girls voice at my side. SIS il real ladyi
she looks like wax o how pretty, how
beautiful Look look!'
She touched me with her little brown
hand, and looked at me, her eyes spread
ing:
Did you ever see her before 2" she
asked. SIS she like that in everyday
clothes? o, how pretty how pretty ?
Men have no right to weep. | put my
head down upon the cushion of the pew
and hid my eyes. felt the child creep
close to me.
Poor thing. he's tired?' | heard her
whisper, and put her little hand out and
patted me softly by stealth.
So looked down into the church again,
and saw Grant Stanton kiss the BRIDE.
"ls it overt" asked the girl.
"Yes, Chill" said "aIl over"
"Then | must go" she said. "Thank
you for being so kiud to me, sir. Good
bye"
Goodbye" I said and her little leath
er shoes patted ever the aisle and down the
stairs, and had seen, as I thought, the
last of her. When she had gone, missed
her strangely.
went home when the church was
quite empty. 1t had not been as hard to
bear as had feared, and oddly enough |
found myself thinking of that child's large
gipsy head, and those beautiful! long fringed
eyes. wondered at myself, but it was so.
ii should like to see that child again"
said and as ! spoke, ! spied a crowd
about tavern door upon the road.
1t vas poor place, and poor rough peo-
pie made up the group. II was plain no
common quarrel or drinking bout had