The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1869-12-01

pretty enough, but she wasn't girl
whose beauty is dependent upon her
hair. It was long, and soft. and
broWn-no lights In it-only just
mass of soft darkness. The only
was that it waved just
little above the temples, and swept
away in the fashion which helped to
give its peculiar, piquant charm to her
face. But after all it wasn't so much
how she looked. You didn't think
about that when you loved her, and
you did love her because you couldn't
help it.
"Welll The years don't stand
still for anybody, and when young
girl is growing up or an old man Is
growing old, they seem fairly to chase
one another. Barbara was eighteen
before we'd began to think about it.
1t came upon father all at once one
Mother said he, the child will
be getting married and leaving u.s.
And he looked so sorrowful that | pit
led him. Aud so | said-'Gwas leap
in the dark.
What il it should be Richard,
and then we could help them both z
Fathers face cleared up and smil-
ed all over.
"'Bless me, PollyP said he what
woman you are for planning. Of
course. That will be the very thing.
Iwonder | never thought Of it afore.
Don't build too much on it,
father, | said. Maybe it won't suit
them,
"'Wont suit EN-? Why not? said
father; end though he's the best
tempered man in the world, he was
a little bit riled I don't see why.
She's the prettiest and best girl ia the
world, and where can she find hand
somer fellow than Richard2 Bright
"a a dollar. too, and fond of his
books
Yes, father, that's true, [ said.
And then shes used to him
she's known him all her life and Of
course she loves him.
"'Ah, father, said l. that may be
the very reason why she shouldn't
want to marry him. She might be
more likely to fall in love with a
stranger.
II fancy, Mr.. Paul, you've seen
enough of girls to know there was
some sense in this, but father couldn't
see it. Men in general oouldn, t..
They think girls are kind of grown
up children, likely to do as you want
'em to if you coax 'em little. And
some of 'em are. But Barbara wasn't
one of your soft hearted girls that
have no thoughts and no mind of
their own. She had a strong will. aud
vivid tastes. and warm likes and dis
likes, and had altogether character
enough for half dozen common girls.
She wasn't one to fall like a ripe
cherry into q mans mouth. and |
knew our wanting her to love Richard,
or his loving her, never would lead
her heart to him till it was drawn by
that wonderful power which knits
young hearts together. And so /
knew there was nothing we could do.
Father was for putting his clumsy
fingers into the matter; for men
begging your pardon, Mr.. Paul-are
apt to be bit stupid in such things.
But l held him back.
No, said |, If you meddle you'll
surely mar
And sowe waited, and you may
suppose | got into the way oil
watching our boy and girl pretty
closely. Richard was away at work
that summer, and that helped it on
lie minded her beauty and her sweet
ways all the more when they weren I
under his eyes all day, and he used to
blush up like a girl when she looked
at him, and he would stammer and
falter like a school boy if she spoke
to him suddenly.
L was concerned at all this, foI
Richard WASN'T a lad to fall in love
and out, as some do. Whatever
touched him at all stirred his soul tt
its depths, and | was awed and half
| frightened to see how that frail CIR
had got hold of his strorg nature.
II didn't dare to speak to my boy
for be was as reticent as he was in
tense, and | hold that even pareht
have no right to go peering into tn,
secret places of their children's souls
Every heart has thoughts which lii
between it and its Maker.
And so just waited. That
woman's lot, you know, DIR. Paul, ant
long practice has made us patient
AT last my boy took me into hi
confidence. Richard came hom
Saturday night as usual. | remem
Der that after he had shaken hand
with father aud me nc just kisse,
| Barbara's forehead, and | saw til
girl blush, when, as he came roun
aud took his place at the table, sh
looked up and met his eye.
What's my grille dressed up S
fine for?' said father, presently; 10
Barbara had on clean white dres
and looked somehow as fresh an
fair as flower newly blown. BY th
help of a fresh ribbon or two sh
could always make herself charmin
as heart could wish.
Its choir meeting, father, sal
Barbara. We're going to rehears
for Fourth of July picnic.
A pienicl' said Richard. That
capital. Father, you must take oil
Dobbin and we'll all CO.
Father gave little nod and Bar
bara's eyes sparkled.
"There'll be speeches and toasts
said she, and dinner In the grove
and then a dance. | must have n
new muslin done up, mother dea
You see there'll be the Dartmouth
and the Saxons, and all the fine pee
pie. and | must look my prettiest.'
! Never you mind them, grille
! said father. bringing his hand dow
hard. Dick Saxon s net good fl
much, and I'd be sorry to see yo
like his sisters
But nobody ever heard any har
, of Harry Dartmouth, said Barbar
: pouting a little.
' Ibid evere anybody hear any GOO
of himP said Richard, hastily.
Q think fellow can't have much mai
{ illness to dawdle away his time as |
does.
r "Barbara's eyes dropped and
) grieved look came over her face.