Litchfield enquirer., 1868-03-12
"Boarding-houses breed follies," he con

guess you'd better keep house. to give your girl something to do and think of. House. Keeping is the best schooling in the world for young woman. You'd better keep house, I guess. You can do it very we'll on $2OOO year. ~~ ~--
 knew he had not made mistake in the matter, that he really intended to say what .he had, and that 1t was equivalent to an advance.
 "My dear Mr. Moneypenny,' I began, "you are very kind had really not ho- ped for an advance at present."
 "And you had the hardihood to think of marrying on $500 year!'
 There was species oi hatdihood a bit of desperation sort of defiance of Provi- dence in it, as you often a. serted, as you know my dear, and so I admitted by my silence.
 "You must have confidence in her eh?'' he asked presently.
 ''Yes, MT. Moneypenny, l have conf dence in Laura or IT should not make her my wife"
 'Good, good, very good, indeed. And you are not at all jealous, hey?'
 ''No sir: not jealous in the leaso."
 While asking these questions he had left his paper and had shH11ed himself by a considerable effort on to the messenger $ high stool, which he placed beside my own so we Sat, when he had mounted, with our backs to the door as if we were boring ovel the ledger which had been posting And when I had again expressed my confidence in you, my dear and had declared with a voice slightly tremulous either with love for my darling or shyness at making such sentimental admission to him, he pat his hand on my shoulder, batting it, anu said:
 ''Thats right my boy, ,tlat' right. Above all things avoid suspicion and jealousy. Half the broken friendships, the blasted af fections of this world result from hurried misconceptions, and misunderstanding, and unfounded suspicious and jealousies. Beware of nasty mlsconstruction of mo- tives: give every man and woman the ben eft of the doubt, and plenty of margin for 1 explanation. Don't ridicule my preaching because you know l never practice 1t. A suspicious nature has been the curse of my fe''-he was growing more excited and talking louder as he progressed-S'ye5 sir, the curse of my life. It made me disagre- able to my friends, contemptible to my en- emies; it made me unsociable as young man and cross and ugly as all old one; il deprive mo of friends and acquain tan ! ] lovedr'
 This rather astounding climax was ex- pressed with very considerable energy, and was followed by an expression which ] can only describe as a sort of combination of a groan, sob, sigh, and sniifie, with slight preponderance of snif1e.
 The old mans conduct was so strange, and his motives alluding to his past life, which was perfect blank to me. were so undefinable that I only ventured to say that this was an unfortunate fate.
 "Nobody in the street, but you, knows that I was ever in love. I tell you these things as warning. I'll tell yon the whole story as warning, mind you, and you had better take 1t for good advice, for that's All you'll ever get out of it, l can tell you"
 intimated, with as careless an air as could assume that I expected nothing from it, and that he had better follow his own advice in regard to suspicious, and not be-
 "Ah!' he interrupted, If I could have only have done that years ago, years ago. how much happier my life would have been!' And then, leaning over my desk, and talking in as low tone, as if afraid of being overheard, and in a strangely con- fdential way, he told me this narrative, which have tried to write out 10 you in his own words as nearly as l can recall them:
 ''ln my earliest recolleciions recall m v- self as boy of a very unsociable and con- sequently of very unhappy disposition. Solitude and silence aint good for boys, and was too fond of both have always from my e,r]iest childhood possessed sin gular aptitude at making myself not only unwarrantably disaGroeable, but unneces- slrily miserable upon the slightest provo cation or suspicion. was never content to meet trouble when 1t came. I was al- ways on the lookout for it, and insisted on meeting it half way. Though I was not without vauity when youth, yet I was al- ways misconstruing incidents and remarks to my disadvantage. Did see couple of my school-fellows whispering, felt sure it was about me and to my discredit; if the whisperers happened to be young girls, l was certain that they were discnssing my looks and pronouncing me ugly; if they laughed felt sure that some disarrange- ment or general shabbiness of my dress or something about my manner excited their ridicule. I lived througha youth of dis content and dissatisfaction and seclusion, to develop, at twenty thre> into 8 young man full of doubts and distrust of all the rest of my fellow-creatures.
 ''I suspected everything and everybody. My imagination performed the most won derful freaks in construing or rather mis- construing the motives of other people. had no confidence in friendly asservations no trust in business promises. l believed that friends would act for me and for my interests only 10 the insignificant extent that I made it their individual interest to do so. Employees had none, then, but was myself employed in banking-house, and used to amuse myself in wondering how my employers dared to trust my fel- low-clerks. was spy on each and every one of them; it was a labor delighted in and performed faithfully, not that I ever told my employers of my suspicious, or at tempted to rise by running others. I kept my demon for my own destruction, and nursured my serpent to sting only my self.
 ''No mans S promise was as good 70 me as his bond, I looked on my employers-as 8 good many young men appear to do in this age-as my personal enemies, for whom l was bound to perform, under apainful ne- cessity, certain routine duty. and no more, and, like great many other young men of the present day, my idea of duty