Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1869-09-30
SeIeft Stnru.
HOW [ WAS WON

I am the only daughter of Orlando Pug
gins, of Fizzleton, retail dealer in dry
goods. My father is very prominent
man in town and [ am belle Of the vii
lage. I think have very good reasons
for calling myself handsome, for not less
than a score of young men Of my acquain-
lance have assured me such is the fact. -
I have no reason to doubt the words of
these very amiable young men. forI think
[ should have been convinced Of my
beauty even if they had not whispered it
IN my ear.
My fathers hobby had been for several
years to make a good match for me. Per
haps you know what good match is 4? 1t
is simply to marry a man you positively
hate man who is excessively ugly and
disagreeable-in short, fool-because he
is wealthy. If he has money, it makes
no difference what is his character; it is
what the world calls match. Ny IA
Their thought just what the rest of the
world did and often have heard him
say that Beatrice should ride in her own
carriage some day That was the high
est idea Of happiness. Perhaps it is need
less to say thot my father and [ differed
very much on this point.
| think I had imbibcd what the gener-
ality of people will call rather romantic
notions. Can you believe it, that the
belle of Fizzietop, at the age Of twenty
two, imagined that there was such pas
sion as love? | Ionged for something
more than poodle dog to lavish my afec-
tons upon. | know it is very unmaiden-
ly for me to say this, but it is true.
had plenty of lovers, to be sure; but
ugh [ preferred the poodle to them. Ny
hero had not yet arrived. | knew he
would come some time. Perhaps he
would come in ragged coat; but the
coat doesn't make the man. you know
although it does make great many Of
those things that call themselves men.
Meanwhile my father brought q lover
to me-a Mr.. Cattle from Boston. He
was doing a large business there, and was
considered wealthy.
There's a lover worthy Of you Bea-
trice,' said my father, after Mr. Cattle had
made his first call. His riches can hard
ly be counted
I am sure his age cannot [ replied.
He is certainly twice as old as [.
We'll?
I think that is enough
My father opened his eyes with aston
ishment.
DO you mean to say that you would
not marry him if you had the chance? 2
yes, that's what mean
Bless my soul! cried my father; ARE
you sane?'
Perfectly
Father looked incredulous.
you read too much poetry, child. You
are a woman now, and it is high time
for YOU to Danish those sentimental ideas
from your silly head. Such an opportu-
nity as this does not come but once in a
woman's lifetime
I should hope not
Father stamped his feet with rage and
looked uputterable things. took LagEa
Rookh aud began reading the Fire wor-
shippers.
Beatrice, do you wish to bring my gray
hairs in sorrow to the grave?
No; but I have to live with my hus-
band through life. and [ would much
rather have one Of my own choosing.
Yes, yes, my child; but | have lived
longer than you, and think my judg-
ment is better [ don't want you to mar
rv some scoundrel without cent in his
pocket, and have you to wear your life
out as bis drudge. As the wife of Mr..
Cattle you will lead life Of luxury and
case
"A life of misery
Ny father looked grieved, but said no
more, and soon after left the room.
Such is the perversity Of female human
nature that I think if the scouudrel with
oat cent had proposed just at that mo-
ment, should have accepted him at once.
[ believe women are like the Irishman's
pig He wished to drive the pig to Dub
lin but he made him think he wished
him to go in an opposite direction. Con
sequontly the pig was bound to Dublin
aud to Dublin he went.
Mr.. Cattle never called again. think
father put flea in his ear, for he saw
plainly that | was not to be driven into 9
union with man I did not like.
About this time father hired new
clerk. He was rather good looking, and
all my lady friends voted him proper
nice young man. presume he was what
father called that scoundrel without &
cent in bis pocket 10 be sure he was
dressed elegantly; but | haven't the
slightest idea that the coat he wore on his
back was paid for :; but what Of
that? Wasn't he agreeable? Couldn''
he whisper soft nonsense for an entire
evening Hadn't he all the poetry O
the affections by heart? Then he wrote
about love and moonshine in splendid
rhymes upon scented paper. and he gave
these illusions to me- | almost though
| loved him and am sure he loved me