Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1868-05-02
SELECTED MISCELLANY,
rae OLD REQ SLEIGH.


which had been a birthday present In
my school days.
r took them cut aud the iDk bottle
also. The ink was thick. for we did
not write much--either OF us-and L
brought the vinegar-cruet from the
closet and thinned it to my liking
Then sat down and looked at the pa
per. Then I went to the stairs and
listened to see that mother was not
coming. Then I actually seated my
self, squared my elbows, and began to
write. This l. what wrote:
Dear Miss Harrow: / am coward.
Not, 1 hope, in Que sense, but certain
IL as regards you. For year 1 have
loved you. Yet. 1 no more would have
dared TO say so than l would bad you
been a queen. Perhaps because / do
not cherish hope that you like me.
Tomorrow you and will ride to-
gether. TO morrow bad made mp my
mind to try my fate, but know / shall
not dare TO speak. SO I write, will give
You this letter to read at hOmes If the
answer be No" it will be easier for
both of us. Will you try and think
q enough OI me UU no ---s---~----|H--yS
L love you better than do my life,
A4u Il VIII dO AihI thH 10
happy for you. With little, L can
make my way IL the world as othermen
do. / am young and strong, and not
utterly ignorant. Ii / am to have that
hope, give me some sign-give a line,
your name only, anything to show me
what you mean. IL am to be miser-
able-well, then, mske no answer. ST.
lence shall mean mo" / could not
bear to see you or speak to you after
that.
This is an awkward love letter. no
doubt. am not used to writing let
tiers of any kind of late. never wrote
or said a word Of love to any one be-
fore. That must be my excuse. But
were 1t ever 60 elegant it could not
mean more. For offer all the love IN
my heart. The only love / ever felt or
shall ever know.
ALMoN Craig.
/ sealed this note IN the daintiest
envelope L possessed, aud wrote Hep
seY Harrow's name ON the back, and
hid it in the desk from mothers eyes;
sharp eyes that looked after me anx-
iOusly as / drove away with old Dobbin
and the little red sleigh the following
evening.
She was ready for me. My mothers
hint was Ia my mind, and looked at
her dress. All discovered was that il
was blue; that her furs were good, I
could judge OF furs.
''She must marry a rich man, or one
on his way wealthward," said. ''She
shall, too I've more II start with than
Washington had" And I tucked her
into the sleigh and drove eff to the
meeting"
1t was pleasant drive, and merry
dance and supper; but as the time went
on felt glad that I had written the
letter. For could not have said what
it said for ne. 1t was the last moment
when We were driving homewaFd that
mustered courage to ask her for the
little reticule she carried as the other
girls lid, with brush and some flow
ers in it, think, for they had to touch
up the curls and braids after the windy
ride before the dance.
"Why do you want it?" she asked.
''To put something in ii, which you
must not look at till you reach home,"
I said.
"You arouse my curiosity" she an
svered, 81 shall look the instant have
a lamp"
And as she spoke I had dropped in
the letter aud snapped the clasp.
Not word more could speak. But
at the door 1 tried, for the first time,
TO kiss her. Her lips eluded mine, and
dared not to repeat the attempt.
took the red sleigh home aud wait
ed, waited hopefully. as L knew after
wards. for answer. None came-a day,
q week, month. Then all the hope
was over. / had seen her. She had
given me little, cold, snileless bow.
! was rejected.
'Mother." said that night, 1--WE
must lave some one to farm the place.
I'm going TO some city,"
"Wby?" she said.
"Io make my fortune" said.
For that girl-the school ma'am2"
asked my mother, bitterly.
''NO." said; ''never for her."
Mother knelt down beside me as /
sat on 3 low stool. She put her hands
on my shoulder and looked In nv face.
''She didn't dare refuse your" she
said. Boy, / know you are in trouble. |
I'm your mother. Tell me-"
''She did not accept me" said.
1.-The naughty mInxP said my moth /
er. Il" Then she burst into tears. |
"And that's 10 part us2" she said.
''Not if you'll go with me, answer
ed.
But she would net leave her home, |
and went alone. III the frosty morn |
ing, es turned to look back at the Int
lie village, from the top of the old stage,
l saw the little children filing In at the |
school house Goor. and caught glim-
pse OF Hepsey's dress beyond-only a
fold OF her dress, but knew it. The 1
school bell was ringing; but it did not
say, ''turn again" to ne, as it should |
have done, had been such q prophet
as Wilmington.
made my fortune. / had a cousin |
Ia New York who was deep in the my
teries of Wall street. He helped me )
so did Luck or Fate. In five years I |
was a moderately rich man. My moth
er wanted nothing but my presence
She would not come to me, but urged |
me to return to her.
At first my heart was too weak to be
trusted among those old familiar scenes. |
To have met Hepsey would have been |
too much to bear. But Time helps us
Ill kba and - a. -o.-- A.