Sunbury American. [volume] (Sunbury, Pa.) 1848-1879, 1868-06-27
TALES AND SKETCHES.
MARY MOORE.
A PLEASANT LOVE STORY.


Ali my life long had known Mary Moore.
All my life loved her.
Our mothers were old playmates and first
cousins. My first recolections are of boy
in red frock and morocco shoes rocking
cradle, in which reposed sunny haired,
blue-eyed baby, not quite year old. That
boy was myself-Harry Church that bles-
sed baby was Mary Moore.
Later still, see myself at the little school
house, drawing my little chair up to the
door that Mary might ride home. Many q
beating have gained on such occasions, for
other boys besides me liked her, and she,
fear, was something of tlirt, even in her
pinafore. How elegantly she came tripping
down the steps wlfen Icalled her name
How sweetly her blue eyes looked at me.
How gaily rang out her merry laugh. No
one but Mary could ever bring her heart so
soon to her lips. followed that laugh
from my days of childhood till grew an
awkward, blushing youth l followed it
through the heated noon of manhood; and
now when the frosts of age are silvering my
hair and many children climb upon my
knee and call me father" find that the
memories of youth ore strong, and that,
even in gray hairs, am following the music
still.
When was fifteen the first great sorrow
of my life came upon my heart. l was sent
to school, and was obliged to part with
Mary. We were not to see each other for
three long years. This, to me, was like a
sentence of death, for Mary was like life
itself to me. But hearts are tough things,
after all.
left college in all the flush and vigor of
my nineteenth year. / was no longer awk-
4 Il
tall, slender stripping, with very good
opinion of myself, both in general and par
ticular. If l thought of Mary Moore, it
was to imagine how could dezzle and be-
wilder her with my good looks and Won
derful mental attainments, and never think
ing she might dazzle and bewilder me still
more was coxcomb, I know, but as
youth and good looks have fed, l trust l
may be believed when / say that self con-
ceit has left me also.
An advantageous proposal was made me
at that time and accepting it, gave up
all idea of a profession and prepared to go
to India. In my hurried visit home o! two
days saw nothing of Mary Moore. She
had gone to boarding school at some dis
tsncc and was not expected home until the
following May. / uttered sigh to the
memory of my little blue eyed playmate
and then called myself man again.
In a year, thought, as the vehicle, wllirl-
ed away from our door-in q year, or three
years at the very most will return, and if
Mary is as pretty as she used to be, why,
then, perhaps may marry her. And thus
! settled the future of young lady whom l
had not seen for four years. never thought
of the possibility of her refusing me-never
dreamed that she would not condescend to
accept my offer.
But now know that, had Mary met me
then, she would have despised me. Per.
haps, IN the scented and affected student
she might have found plenty of sport, but
as for loving me, l should, perhaps, have
found myself mistaken. India was my sal
vation, not merely because of my success,
but because my laborious industry had
counteracted the evil in my nature and has
made me better man. When, at the end
of three years, prepared to return, said
nothing of the reformation of myself, and
they shall find out for themselves whether
/ am better worth loving than formerly.
Ipacked up many token from that ro-
land of romance and gold for the friends
hoped to meet. The gift for Mary Moore /
selected with beating heart it was ring
Of rough virgin gold, with my name and
hers engraved inside-that was all, and yet
the sight Of the little toy strangely thrilled
me as balanced it upon the tip of my I'm
ger. To the eyes of Others it was but a
small, plain circlet, suggesting thoughts,
perhaps by its elegance, of the beautiful
white hand that was to wear it. But not
to me. How much was embodied there !!
All these delights were hidden within that
little ring of gold.
Tall, bearded, and sun-bronzed, knock
ed at the door of my fathers house. The
lights in the parlor windows and the hum
|, ofconversation and cheerful laughter show
ed me that company was assembled there.
l hoped sister Lizzie would come to the
door and might greet nay family when no
strange eye was looking carelessly on. But
no, q servant answered my summons. They
were too merry in the parlor to heed the
long absent one who asked for admittance.
A bitter thought like this ran through my
mind as heard the sounds from the parlor
and saw the half suppressed smile on the
servants face.
hesitated a moment before making my
self known or asking for any of the family,
and while I stood silent a strange appAri-
tion grew up before me. From behind the
servant peered out a small, golden head, q
tiny, delicate form followed, a sweet, child
ish face, with blue eyes, so like to those oi
one who had brightend my boyhood thai
started with a sudden feeling OF pain.
"What is your name my pretty 7" asked
while the wondering servant held the door
"Mary Moore