Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1868-05-21

And with these words, Connor stretched out hi
arms. Perhaps he did see Nora-Heaven only
knows-and 80 he died.
HOW HAD MY OWN WAY.
am the only daughter of Orlando Puggins, Of
Fizzleton, retail dealer in dry goods. My father
is very prominent man in town, and l am the
belle of the village. I think I have very good
reasons for calling myself handsome, for not less
than score of young men of my acquaintance
have assured me that such is the fact I have nc
reason for doubling the word of these very estma-
bic young men, for think should have been con-
vinced of my beauty even if they had not whisper.
ed it in my ears. ...... ...
My fathers hobby had been for several years to
make match for me- Perhaps you know what q
good match is. 1t is simply to marry a man you
positively hate-a man who is excessively ugly and
disagreeable-in short, fool, just because he is
wealthy. IF he has money it makes no difference
what his character is-it is what the world calls
good match My father thought just as the res,
of the world did; and often have heard him say
that his Beatrice should ride in her own carriage
some day. That was his highest idea of happi.
ness. Perhaps it is needless to say that my father
and I differed very much on this point.
I think I had imbibed what the generality Of
people call romantic notions. Can you believe il
that the belle of Ezzleton, at the age Of twenty
one, imagined that there was such passion as
love? longed for something more than poodle
dog to lavish my affections upon. I know it is
very unmaideny for me to say this but it is true.
had plenty of lovers, to be sure, but ugh? Ipre.
ferred the poodle to them ALL My hero had moi
yet arrived knew he would come sometime. -
Perhaps he would come in ragged coat; but the
coat does not make the man, you know-though il
does make great many things that call themselves
men.
Meanwhile my father brought lover to me-a
Mr.. Cattle, from Boston. He was doing large
business there, and was considered very wealthy.
''There's lover worthy of you, Beatrice" said
my father, after Mr.. Cattle had made the first
call. "His wealth can hardly be estimated.
II am sure his age cannot" replied. "He il
certainly twice as old as I am.
"Well?"
IT think that is enough"
My father opened his eyes with astonishment-
'Do you mean to say that you would not marry
him if you had a chance2'
Eyes, that's what I mean."
''Bless my soulI said father. "Are you sane2'
'Perfectly.''
Father looked incredulous.
"You read too much poetry, child You are q
woman now, and it is high time for you to Danish
such sentimental ideas from your silly head. Such
an opportunity as this doesn't come to woman
but once in life time'
II should hope not.
Father stamped his feet with rage, and looked
unutterablc things I took up Lala Rookh and
commenced reading the Fire Worshippers.
BEAT, do you wish to bring down my gray hairs
in SORROW to the grave?'
'No, but as I have to live with my husband
through life, would much rather have one OF my
own choosing"
"Yes, yes, my child But have lived longer than
you, and think my judgment is better. wish te
see you happily married. I don't want you te
marry some scoundre without cent in his pocket
and have you wear your life out as his drudge. Az
the wife of Mr. Cattle, you will lead life of luxury
and ease"
"a life of misery
My father looked grieved but said no more, and
soon after left the room.
Such is the perversity Of female human nature
that think that if any scoundre without cent in
his pocket, had proposed, just at that moment,
should have accepted him at once. believe wo
men are like the Irishman's pig. He wished tc
drive the pig to Dublin; but he made him think
he wished him to go in the opposite direction. Con-
sequently, the pig was bound to 60 to Dublin, and
to Dublin he went.
Mr. Cattle never called again. l think father
put flea in his ear, for he saw plainly that was
not to be driven into union with man I did moi
like
About this time father hired new clerk. He
was rather good looking, and all my young lady
friends voted him propernice young man. Ipre'
sumo he was what father would call scoundre
without cent in his pocket. To be sure he dress
ed elegantly but havn't the slightest idea that
the coat upon his back was paid for; but what Of
that? Wasn't lie agreeable? Couldn't he whis'
per soft nonsense for an entire evening? Hadn't
he all the poetry Of the affections by heart? Then
he wrote about love and moonshine in splendid
rhymes, upon scented paper, and he gave these
effusons to me. | almost thought l loved him
and ain sure he loved me, for he told me SO.
had it all written out in black and white, in the
most elegant verse think ever read.
Father tried to keep cool through all this, but il
was terrible hard work for him to do so. Once
heard him tell mother that if was bound to 60
to the deuce, he didn't know as he could help it.
''Its only Irritation" mother said.
''Flirtation, indeed Itel you she is bewitched
after him." my father said And then he added,
"Well, it's not so bad as it might be. Torseldort
isn't a bad young man Of course he has got not a
cent but if they are bound to marry, III do what
can for him, and possibly he may make some
thing yet. "
My ardor cooled at once. There wasn't opposi-
ton enough to feed the fame; ; and consequently
love died out That evening Mr. Toseldorf called
received him very coolly. He noticed it, and ex-
erted himself to be agreeable, but it was signal
failure. I never smiled once while he remained.
When he rose to depart followed him to the door,
and informed him as gently as I could that his
company could be dispensed with.
"What has happened, Beatrice ?" he inquired.
Nothing"
"You do not love me!'
"You are exceedingly good at guessing, Mr..
Torseldorf," answered. smiling for the first time
that evening.
"Heartless |" he muttered.
"Oh, no But should be if had given my
heart to you"
Mr.. Torseldorf jammed his hat over his eyes,