Virginia free press. (Charlestown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1832-1916, 1869-06-24
Bachelors Story.

II remember how she looked as well as if it
were Yesterday. Yesterday and twenty years
have thrown their shadows over my lifc-path
since thcn-twenty long sad years, but they
have failed to blot out Marion Wendin. Sit
down, old boy. aud III tell you all about it
You've bad happier life than mine in all
these years in which we've been drifting about
on separate seas; for you have wife and child
to call you dear. Still, my bachelor experience
may be interesting to you for the sake of the
old times down in the little rcd school-housc
where we played innumerable boyish pranks
upon our grave teacher Do you remember
where we parted ?-you to your clerkship in
the great bustling city, and for the college
walls. You can see it from here-the old
chestnut tree wherosyo stood and talked of our
plans for the great future You were TO be a
merchant, grow rich, marry your partners
daughter, and live in grandeur; and was to
study, and write, and grow famous, and wed
myself to literature alone. You have realized
all, aud it has brought YOU happiness, and |
have realized all, too. But would my boyish
hopes had been thwartcd
"From the time we shook hands and parted
under that old chestnut tree, until my thirtieth
wear. I wrote and studied iucessantly. | had
but one hope, one aim, to make the world bless
the day that gave birth to Milton Moore. |
can remember now with what supreme con-
tempt | looked down upon those whose only
aim in life seemed to be to make a comfortable
living, and select pleasant companion to share
it with them. All me what are all my hon
ors and riches to me now, since they must
needs be unsharcd
"One short hour on my thirtieth birthday
changed my views totally and forever. | had
agreed for that day, at the earnest solicitation
of aunt and cousins, to lay aside work, and
devote the day to them They had agreed to
invite no company, and so | felt entirely at
case for had a dread Of society, especially
Ceminines so much light chit-chat, so many
nameless nothings to be said. If only my
aunt and cousins were not women, | said, as |
tied nv cravat, chow much more | should en-
ioy the dayp With these complimentary feel
ing towards the female sex, l wended my way
across the fields to my aunts and entering the
orchard was strolling lesurely towards the
house, when face 70 face, encountered Marion
Wend,n. told you Remembered that vision
Of hers as when it first beamcd upon me-
Fair. slight. with a wealth Of brown hair put
smoothly away from a square, full forehead
eyes like hair, in color-but who could describe
them? Large, lustrous, flashing ont faith.
hope love, seeming to tell of everything good
and noble, filing the depths Of heart whose
wealth few could fathom. All this spoke outin
her eyes and lighted up ber face. The color
mounted to her cheek as we thus met so alb
ruptly. and she let fall the folds of her brown
dress filed with autumn leaves and flowers she
had gathered up so picturesquely in ono hand
while the other held a small volume, In which
the dainty thumb was inserted to mark the
place. A single sprig of sweet alyssum IN her
hair was her only ornament. All, Ned /
wish could really paint her to you as sue
stood there, but no artist ever uansierreu 70
canvass n face like bers-'twerc an impossioiii-
ty; for no two moments was the expression the
same. and yet so beautiful was each, you could
moi tell the most fascinating. As the leaves
and flow,rs dropped upon the ground, gath
cred up my senses and begged pardon for eaus-
ing such waste of IOveliness, and offered my
hat as substitute for the dress she was straight
enins into proprety, and in few moments
all embarrassment had vanished, and we were
talking as though we had known each other
all our lives.
81 had often heard ny cousins speak OF