The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1869-08-07
How l Was Won.


How Was Won.
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 village. l
think have very good reasons for calling
myself handsome, for not less than score
of young men of my acquaintance have as
sured me such is the fact. Ihave no reason
to doubt the words Of these very estimable
young men, for 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 a good match isl 1t
is simply to marry a man you positively
hate; 4 man who is excessively ugly and
disagreeable-in short, a fool-because he
is wealthy. If he has money, it makes no
difference what is his character; it is what
the world calls a good match. My father
thought just as the rest of the world did;
and often have I heard him say that Bea-
trice should ride in her own carriage some
day. That was the highest idea of happi-
ness. Perhaps it is needless to say that
point.
think I had imbibed what the general
ity of people will call rather romantic
notions. Can you believe it, that the belle
of Fizzleton, at the age of twenty-five, i'm
agined that there was such a passion as
love? l longed for something more than a
poodle dog to lavish my affections upon. l
know it is very unmaidenly for me to say
this, but it is true. had plenty of lovers,
to be sure; but ugh! preferred the poodle
to them. My hero had not yet arrived
l knew he would come some time. Per-
haps he would come in a ragged coat; but
the coat dosn't make the man, you know
although it does make great many of
those things that call themselves men.
Meanwhile my father brought a lover to
me-a Mr.. Cattle, from Boston. He was
doing large business there, and was con-
sidercd wealthy.
"There's lover worthy of you, Bea-
trice," said my father, after Mr.. Cattle had
made his first call ellis riches can hardly
be counted
81 am sure his age can not" l replied.
g He is certainly twice as old rs L.
"Well? -
81 think that is enough"
My father opened his eyes with astonish-
ment.
"Do you mean to say that you would
not marry him if you had the chance?'
Eyes, that's what mean
'Bless my soul"' cried my father; "are
you sane?"
Perfectly"
Father looked incredulous.
g 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 opportunity as
this does not come but once in woman S
lifetime
81 should hope not
Father stamped his feet with rage and
looked unutterable things. | took up
Lala RookA and began reading the Fire
Worshippers.
g Beatrice, do you wish to bring my gray
hairs in sorrow to the grave p
"No; but | have to live with my hus-
band through life, and Iwould much rather
have one of my own choosing"
Yes, yes, my child; but l have lived
longer than you, and l think my judgment
is better. wish to see you happily mar
ried. | don't want you to marry some
scoundrel without cent in his pocket, and
have to wear your life out as his drudge
AS the wife of Mr.. Cattle you will lead a
life of luxury and ease.''
GA life of misery!'
My father looked grieved, but said no
more, and soon after left the room
Such is the perversity of female human
nature that think if that scoundrel with
out a cent had proposed just at that mo-
ment, l should have accepted him at once.
l believe women are like the Irishmans
pig. He wished to drive the pig to Dublin;
but he made him think he wished him to
go in an opposite direction. Consequently
the pig was bound to Dublin, and to Dub
lin he went.
Mr.. Cattle never called again. l think
f.,f1, IN, H.. L.
plainly that l was not to be driven into a
union with man did not like.
About this time farther hired Il new
clerk. He was rather good-looking, and
all my young lady friends voted him q
proper, nice young man. l presume Ii.
was what father called "that scoundre
without cent in his pocket To be sure
he was dressed elegantly; but havn't the
slightest idea that the coat he wore on hi.
back was paid for; but what of that >
Wasn't he agreeable? Couldn't he wins
per soft nonsense for an entire evening"
Hadn't he all the poetry of the affections
by heart? Then he wrote about love an(
moonshine in splendid rhymes upon scented
paper, and he gave these illusions to me
| almost thought loved him; and l an
sure he loved me, for he told me so. l hat
it all written out in black and white, in thu
most elegant verse | ever read
Father tried to keep cool through al
this, but it was terrible hard work for hin
to do So Once I heard him tell mother
that if | was bound to go to the deuce, Ii,
didn't know as he could help it.
cts only t1irtation," mother said.
Filtration, indeed! l tell you she's be
witched after him. my father said. Ant
then he added, "Well, it is not quite a
bad as it might be. Torseldorf isn't a bat
young man; of course he hasn't got Il cent