St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1867-05-03
HOW 1 Happened to Marry.

Sometimes, in obituary notices, the
newspapers give us the causes of death.
Why not the causes of marriage We
should be vastly more entertained. For
instance
"After lingering Irritation, Job Smith
to Kate Fling.
- Ali things come round to him who
will but wait
Or
sin a fit of p:que, the disappointed
Washington Gray to the stupid Miss
" hite.
''' Beware of desperate steps. The
darkest day"
And SO forth.
Now | propose to give as briefly as
possible the rise and progress of my ac-
quaintance with the second Mrs. p, and
why | was induced to make her my
wife.
| had thought l should never marry
again. When | boarded with my family
at Mrs. Gilson's | remarked to my land
lady, with deep feeling, that, in case l
should be absent in time Of fire, | hoped
she would not forget to visit my room
and take from the wall my wifes por-
trait. felt that | could calmly part
with small portion of my wardrobe,
but the likeness Of my sainted Elizabeth
| could never spare. "Where l 90, thou
goest," said | !; land never while have
my senses shall the canvass which repre-
sents the sweet features of my lost dar-
ling be conerted by second wife into a
fire board"
| had been for years wholesale gro
Ger in good ard regular standing, and
should, no doubt, have continued in the
same business up to the present time, if |
had not been satisfied that my four chill
dren were suffering for country air and
freedom. am not rich man, but |
have a competency and decided to re-
tire from the city to the town of Picca-
dilly, and devote my energies to the cul-
tivation of garden seeds.
Piccadilly is a small but thriving vii
lage, with a salubrious climate, and a
population of some fifteen hundred souls.
For years | had heard of the superior in
telligence and morality of Piccadilly.
My lamented Elizabeth had been par
TALLY educated at its academy, which
still fourished there behind four Lombar-
dy poplars.
"Papa," said Caroline, my eldest, a
girl of fourteen, the week after our arriv-
al, "'Tilda is homesick. and says she
must leave us"
Matilda was our housekeeper, who
had lived with US for ten years, and
thoroughly understood the ways of her
mistress, the deceased Mrs. Pratt. At
the intelligence that she had given warn
ing | was SO much startled that | spilled
my coffee into my bosom but, seeing
Caddy in tears, | controlled myself, and
said stoically:
':No doubt, my dear, we shall continue
TO live without 'Tilda. l can only say
she is a very foolish girl, and we must
find some one else who will do better"
Then | left the table and went into
my garden, for it was time TO transplant
the early tomatoes.
'Tilda asked my pardon that noon,
with led eyes, but with her carpet bag
dangling from her arm. ''She was fit to
die with grief at leaving the dear chill
dren,' she said, "but stay she could not
and would not, with the whole village
peeping into her pantry. She wasn't
used to country folks, and wouldn't
stand and be told she put too much
cream in her doughnuts And that wo-
man who sat in the cup1l0 would be the
death OF her yet"
L afterwards ascertained that Matilda
referred to Miss Peters, worthy lady
who lived opposite, and watched us from
her sitting room window, which, as af:
tording the facilities of an observatory
Matilda had likened to a cupola.
There was no help for it, and oul
housekeeper left.
'It is so strange she dislikes this vii.
lage," said Caddy. II think it's beau.
titul, for everybody takes such an inter.
est in us, papa. | never 60 out but | an
asked all sorts Of questions about you ant
the children as if people really carec
for US you hnow. But | think l founo
out why 'Tilda wouldn't stay it's be
cause you are widower."
"Because what ?"
"Why, you see, papa, she says i
makes remarks. 'Tilda is young wo
man, and Miss Peters says you are likely
| ~, ooo,, nb <oll ,,,o loo,