Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1868-06-19

commenced letter.
Il have had some such thought myself,
and really must accept one of the other IN
vitations have for shooting
''Shan you go to Sir Thomas Crofton'sf
inquired the lady
mo: for Lady Crofton will expect that II
kill her husbands partTidges IN the morn
inc l shall infallibly make love to his
daughter III the evening; her imaginatlonls
so fertile. she never sees a man but she
enumeTates his acres, speculates on mar
rage settlements, and has visions of matrl-
mony-"
Lord Barford's there are no daughters
there"
True. bit his wife Is q deep, deep blue
bOres YOU 10 death with her literary at
Iainments, or non-attainments. l think l
shall run down TO Dacre's-1 have not been
to Woodland since / stood godfather for my
little namesake Frank, nearly five years ago.
/ shall feel at home there, no fussy parties
prim and starched as an old bachelor"
Mrs. Clifford smiled
well. if L am bachelor, and mean so to
continue, am, at least, not starched
one continued the son, interpreting the
smile.
.sWhy should you be at ali, Frank? you
who have so many of the requisites TO
make a woman happy
why, my dear mother, women are so
artifcial-hve for display-sigh for an es-
tabIishment-and not to betoo hard on the
Unrest and sweetest part of creation, / ask
SO much IN wife-I require so many OF
the nemeless something's and nothings in
dispensable to female fascination-and, not
20 speak il irreveTently, when l think of the
caprice. the vanity, the jealously, that are
the usual charaeteIitieS of the sex. / can but
be thankful l am doomed bachelor.
mo" continued he, as if pursuing tram
OF thought. II have drawn an image on my
mind SO fair. so pure, that feel less than
the realization of the idea Will satisfy me;
at the same time. know that 1t IS one that
for me can have no existence-it was the
dream of my boyhood, and it is past.
Frank Clifford was handsome, candid,
generous. the soul of honor, with an income
Of three thousand q year-thiry-six, and a
bachelor. and such he had mentally and
verbally resolved to continue; and yet IN
spite OF all this, had still his visions and
fantasies-s starry skies. fiowery valleys,-the
still quiet woods, enjoyed with some dear,
svmpathizing friend. haunted his day dreams
and night visions.
Il was a bright day when he travelled to
Woodland; the meadows were enameled
with q thousand gay blossoms; the busy
hmm of myTiads of insects filled the ar with
how soothing are such sights and sounds to
mans unquiet spirit. And then how cor
dial was the welcome that awaited him
how happy was DacTe when he romped with
his children on the lawn-and how proud
of the gentle being who shared his joy at
the long-promised visit of his friend.
You have greatly improved this place
Dacre-it is impossible to conceive fairer
scene How gracefully blended are these
flowers with that green, bowery-looking
Wilderness IN the background; 1t is like O
fairy land"
YES" said Mrs Dacre, land created by
the magical wand of Affection. aided by
the fairy Goodwill,
MARY made all these pretty flowers
grow" said the lovely girl, insinuating her
little hand into her mothers; Mary does
everything that is so nice"
Your portfolio boasts some exquisite
paintings" said Clifford, as he turned over
the leaves; Il didnOt know youwere SO fine
an artist
They are indeed beautiful. replied Mrs.
Dacre, ''but may not claim the merit
that belongs to Mary"
At the moment dinner was announced,
and he could only wonder who Mary was.
In his bedroom some bola spirited draw
ings attracted his attention, and his eye
quickly detected the name of Mary IN the
corner; all in the room bespoke female
taste and consideration, and Dacre said ali
had been arranged by Mary. Some OF
Dacres occupations were too commonplace
for the some what fastidious Clifford, and
he delighted in solitary rambles. In one of
these he passed neat cottage; the gay
flowers in the little garden before 1t arrested
his steps. and he paused to admire the deep
crimson stocks, and the beautiful double
waIl-fiower, often seen IN such perfection IN
the cottage gardens of England; an aged
woman invited him to rest in her humble
dwelling,
Take this seat, sir" said she pointing
to one whose looks bespoke comfort and
ease; Il suffer great deal from rheumatic,
and Miss Mary, from the Great House sent
me this chair.
Clifford seated himself In it.
''Oh, she's nice lady, so free and kind;
she bought me those worsted stockings her
self" continued the garrulous dame, put
ting out a foot not exactly a prototype of
Tagilioni's.
Clifford had O Byronic passion for the
name of Mary, and it had come upon his
ear so often in his brief sojourn in Wood
land, that he begen to feel quite SEN
sation when it was named, and no small
curiosity to see her who had right to the
title
But it was the first of September; and
guns. dogs, and birds, were formidable
rivals to the unknown Mary. The sky was
elear-the air bland-the birds, ''those
fairy formed aud many colored things, sung
gaily-end the stream looked pure and
bright, as if ''broke into dimples and laugh
edin the sum-" Clifford and Dacre were
out early, and, with quick eye and sure
aim, returned laden with the spoil. Dacre
hngeredb ehindto give some directions, aud
as Clifford crossed the lawn, he heard the
gay laugh of children, and the tones C the
most musical voice mingled with theirs. He
paused TO hsten-the sound came nearer,
and in moment he was IN the midst of the
group.
''Oh Mary is come home-dear, sweet
sIary-snd We sTe so happy, burst from
the bps Of the delighted young ones
Clifford was slightly embarrassed. but
seeing Dscre, he said, ''Will you come and
introduce me TO this lady; who. 1 presume,
boasts some other name than my favorite
one of Mary
''Oh yes, her name is Dacre; the orphan
child of my poor brother Frederick" he
added in a low tone; land this, Mary, is
my old friend Clifford, OF whom you have
heard honorable mention. But tell me how
are the Povells, and Grace, and how came
you home SO early 2"
To answer your last question first Grace
drove-me 10 the park gate; and we had Q
delightful ride. everything looked so fresh,
IL seemed to have all the charm of novelty.
had been as happy as bird; but began
= i Il i