The Hancock Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Ohio) 1857-1870, 1868-05-01
friend was worth fifty thousand dol

Il Fifty thousand dollars Elsi,
opened her china blue eyes widel,
enough nov.
Il Exactly that sum. my dear Mis-
Miller-and che has been-been :
pleased to testify her confidence il
my--ha--humble abilities, by con
stituting me your guardian until yOr
reach the age Of twenty one years.
Allow ne-hum-to proffer my most
cordial congratulations
| How Mr.. Peck wished his Freddy
was twenty instead of ten years oI
| sge!
For he inwardly reasoned, stro
king his lank, bristly chin, shes
sure to fall victim to some fortune
hunter or other. And she's such 8
FOOL
But Mr.. Peck was mistaken in that
last estimate. Elsie Miller was nc
fool.
Geryaise Cotton heard the story OF
Miss Miller's good fortune i'm silence
81 am glad you told me-" he said
to his informant, Squire Dalton. Il
was going there this very evening to
ask Elsie il she would accept a home
at my hands., AA
DO you mean, marry you p de
mended the straitforward squire.
sCertainly-of course.
My dear boy. you couldn't do q
more sensible thing. You'll have the
richest and the prettiest wife in town,
and / always thonght that little Elsie
fancied you. Go by all means
'Neverr said Gervaise, emphatic.
ally.
Halo = cried the Squire, drop:
ping the red silk handkerchief that
he was fiourishing about, and staring
fxedly at the handsome young man
opposite him.
i would sooner cut my right hand
off tLan give people occasion to call
me fortune hunter,' said Cotton, with
quiet determination, that made his
mouth look like iron, his brows like
adamant.
'GammonP said the Squire, rather
uncourteously; didn't you just tell
me you were about to propose to her,
under the impression that she hadn't
q penny in the world !?
Yes, l told your so, and it was
the truth-but it would be rather
difficult to convince the world in gen,
eral of it,
'Oh, brother the world in general |!
What do you care for its verdict one
way or the other ?
But Cotton shook his head.
Il have striven in all my life long
to be an honorable gentleman said
he, calmly-'nor shall allow the
shadow of q shade TO dim my char
acter now. I love Elsie Miller as
truely and tenderly as a man can
love, but will not submit TO be call
ed an heiress hunter
sBut my dear boy, please reflect
that the days of Don Quixote are
over Nobody will appreciate the
sacriice,you are making; and Elsie
herself will probably marry some
calculating miscreant or other who
won't make half so good husband
as you would have dose.'
Garvaise Cotton remained obstin-
ately unconvinced, however, and the
Squire s elo4uence vas utterly throHa
And little Elsie? How she mar
yelled at Gervaise's altered manner
at his cold constraint and distant
politeness what scalding tears she
cried into her midnight pillow, and
how vainly she tried to read the un-
readable riddle.
sPm sure he used to like me- said
Elsie, as she bathed her eyes with
rose water in the mornings. 'And
there's the rose buds he gave me
just before Aunt Bridget died, and
the letters he used to write, and
and
So ended most of Miss Elsie's So
liloquies in tears.
But 1 don't care3 persisted our
heroine.
The months passed away, and still
Gervaise adhered to his new roieof the
distant. courteous friend, until Elsie
resolved to ask him what she had
done to forfeit the old place in his
heart.
So she marched up to him, in the
merry confusion of good Squire Dal-
toms birthday party--a resolute little
soldier, in armOr of white muslin and
shield of roses.
Gervaise was leaning sadly against
the door, listening abstractedIy 10
the music, when Elsie laid her bo-
quet of roses lightly on his arm.
sGervaise 2
He started.
Miss Miller!'
Miss Miller" she repeated, bitter
ly. Oh Gervaise-you used to call
me Elsie once. Why are you so cold
so changed? What have ! said or
done to lose your friendship
Nothing he answered, strangely
embarrassed
sGervaise!
will you excuse me- he said hur-
riedly. Il see q friend TO whom L
must speak
Elsie stood with her cheeks flaming
like the roses in her hand, and her
blue eyes humid with tears. Had
she humifiated herself in vain :?
And this was the night that she
went home and declared, for at least
the hundred and ninety ninth time,
that she did not care
Il. cannot endure this,' thought
Gervaise Cotton. Il shall forget
dignity, manhood. resolution and
everything else, # she looks me in
the eyes like that once again. Oh,
if Miss Bridget Marriam's fifty thou
sand dollars could be thro IN into the
seap
All that night Gervaise spent in
packing his trunk, burning old let
HE oFa;,, g, 1rIa