Des Arc weekly citizen., 1868-05-02

oOnh Mounterville '; it's lovely, isn't t?"
 "My dear," said ma, thoughtfully "you might do worse"
 "Yes, die an old maid-the most horrible of all earthly dooms. And was twenty-seven last birth-day and when lovely female comes to bt twenty-seven, it's time she ceased to be particular. Well, ma, I'll think about it
 And 1 did. l went slowly and thoughtfully up stairs to my own room and sat down by the window to turn it over. Mr. Mounterville was rich selling lard and molasses may not be romantic, but it's remunerative-and Mir. Mounterville had made money out of it. He lived in a handsome white wooden mansion up the village he kept horse and buggy in summer, and horse and sleigh in winter, and cook, and houseniaid, and a boy, and two clerks. Could any right thinking schoolmistress of seven-and- twenty long for more9 Surely my lucky star had ridden high ill the heavens the day Mir. Mounterville first cast upon me the eye of desire. Yet, oh my prophetic soul ll was this what the dreams ofmy youth had come to who had once reveled in the gorgeous delusion of wedding Count Lara, a Corsair, Giaour, Yelled Prophet Had not my ideal, all my days, been of 8 grand, unapproachable creature, with swarthy skin, and feroeious whiskers, and cmetar by his side? A gentle man who would
 '.Leave Corsair's name to other times, Linked with one virtue and thousand
 crimes.a
 And here had fallen to this! Come to think over a two hundred pound grocer, with sandy whiskers, and eyes like pin-holes, as very desirable match indeed.
 Nine o'clock struck, school came in, and l twitehed my collar and apron straight, glanced at my black eyes that had done such execution, and descend ed to teach the young idea how to shoot. But I was in state of pensiye abstraction all day, and set sums, and wrote copies, and slapped little boys and girls, in a frame of pleasing mel anchoy, with my thoughts on the white wooden mansion up the village and the cook, and the sleigh, and the chambermaid, and the buggy, and dismissed ti4e forty caetubs on my roll-call, (fond of crying as the other cherubim,) I had made up my mind, with gentle sigh, to bury in oblivion the image of my Paynim hero, with the flashing eyes and the shining cimetar and accept Mir Mounterville as soon IS he should screw lis courage to the sticking point and propose.
 l think ma must have been revolving the matter in her mind, too, and arr rived at similar conclusion, for jusr before dusk she says to me,
 Lucinda, love, the molasses is out, and there's no gingerbread. Suppose you take the pail, dear, and step over to Mr. Mounteryilie's?p ?p
 was nothing 10th. Iput on my best bonnet, threw my shawl picturesquely over my shoulders, took the tin pail and departed.
 It was lovely evening. The month  was February, and the snow lay piled high and white. There was no wind, and crystal moon was rising like a shield of silver over the black pine woods, snd the sparkling stars cleft frosty and keen The white road glit- tered as ii sown with diamonds; and tho village lights gleamed and twink led athwart the hazy blue atmosphere. All nature was conducive to tender musing as went along for molasses, and my heart was melted within me like roll of Mr. Mounterville's butter,
 MT. Mounteryile's shop was one blaze of illumination, from three kero- sene lamps, suspended in mid-air, like the sword of-W What's- -his-name. The two counters were crowded with GUS toners, and Phil Marks and Sam Will son, the other clerk, were buster than nailors, and there was an oyerpower- ing perfume of coffee, and kerosene, and codtish, and apples, that reminded me of "Ceylon's spicy breezes," and summer isles of Eden in purple spheres of sea- And there was Mr. Mounterville, waiting with superhu- man energy on three old women at once, and tying up quarter pounds of tea, and ounces of starch and pepper, with rapidity that was the very poe try of motion, and made me wink again. Mr. Mounterville, who bounced away from the three old women, and was confronting me over the counter in a flash, with heavenly smile illu- mining his face.
 "Good-evening, Miss Lucinda, good evening What can do for you this evening ?'
 Now, if any of my pupils, in making q remark to me, had put three "even- ings" SO close together, should most certainly have rapped them over the head for it. But Mir. Mounterville was different l could bear tautology from him, and smile over it. A man who keeps three servants and two clerks need not stand on tfifes of rhetoric.
 "Half a gallon of molasses, if you please. Yes, 1t is lovely evening, Mir, Mounterville. Ideclare, | was almost sorry tho walk over was so short.