Litchfield enquirer., 1869-04-15
A BACHELORS STORY. z
BY. MRS. EMMIE L. GRIFFITH.

l remember how she looked as we'll as if it were sz yesterday. Yesterday and twenty years have thrown their sh hadows over my life-path since then-twenty long, sgd years, but they have failed to blot out Marion Wendin. Sit down, old boy, and I'll tell you all about it. You've had a happier life than mine in all these years in which we've been drifting about on sepa- rate seas; for you have wife and child to call you dear. Still, my bachelor experi- ence may be interesting to you for the sake of the old times down in the little red school house where we played innumerable boyish pranks upon our grave, teacher. Do you remember where we parted ?-you for your clerkship in the great bustling city, and I for the college walls. You can see it from hsre-the old chestnut-tree where we stood and talked of all our plans for the great future. You were to be merchant, grow rich, marry your partner's daughter. and lye in grandeur; and l to study, and write, and grow famous, and wed myself to literature alone. T You have realized all, and it has brought you happiness, and I have realized all, too.i But would my boy ish hopes had been thwarted -t. . "From the time we shook hands and parted under that old chestnut-tree, until my thirtieths year, I wrote and studied in- cessantly. I had but one hope, one aim, to make the world bless the day that gave birth to Milton Moore I can remember now with what supreme contempt looked down upon those whose only aim, in life seemed to be to make comfortable living and select Q pleasant companion to share it with them. ssAhsmeiawhat are all my hon. ors and riches to me now, since they must xrn hc hn eoEn [
 ssone short hour on my thirtieth birth day 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 a day to them. They had agreed to invite no company, and so | felt entirely at ease, forfi l. had Ia dread of society, especially feminine; so much light chit chat, so many nameless nothings to be said. If only my aunt and cousins were not womsn,' said. as T tied my crayat, how much more should enjoy the day I With these seicomplimentary feelings towards the female sex | wended my way. across fields to my aunt's, and entering the or chard, was strolling leisnrely towards the house, when, face to face, r encountered Marion Wendin. Itold you I re member ed that vision of her as we'll as when it first beamed upon me. Fair, slight, with 2 wealth of broWn hair put smoothly away from square, full forehead, eyes like hair, in color-but who could describe them ? Large, iustrous, flashing out faith, hope, love, seeming to tell of everything good and noble filling the depths of heart whose wealth few could fsthom. All this spoke out in her eyes and lighted up her face.s The color mounted to her cheek as we thus met so sabruptly,T and she let fall the folds of tbe, brown dress, filled with autumn leaves and flowers she had gather cd upso pictaresquely in one hand, while the other held small volume, in which the dainty thumb was inserted to mark the place. A single aprag of sweet salyssuml in her hair was her only ornament. An, Nedl r wish could really paint her to you as she stood there, but no artist ever trans- fsrred to canvass face like hers-'twere an for no two moments was the