The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1870-06-03
He and she.

He and She.
They had "'grown up together,
in the full sense Of the term-and
that was just the matter. They had
eaten each others mud pies, taken
the Group in each others snow forts,
cried out the sums on each others
states, tipped over each others ink
bottles, sopped up the ink with their
mutual hankerchiefs, "tOld'' of each
other in about equal proportions,
and made up" in a common ex-
uberance of sobs and sassafras.
They had played at lovers behind
the wood-pile, been married by the
prize speaker, been divorced by the
first base been reunited by the
minister's daughter, and gone to
housekeeping in the peat swamp,
at regular intervals, as far back as
their memory extended.
She had blue eyes, and never un-
derstoOd Vulgar Fractions.
He used to miss,so that she might
get to the head of the class.
One day she braided her hair in
two little braids behind, and tied it
with a pink 'Iute-string ribbon at
three cents a yard. When they
walked home together he. touched it
gently, to signify his appreciation,
and she blushed like a May-hower.
1t could not have been long after
that before she grew shy at singing
school, and was apt to be going
home with her brother In another
year, when be went to st. David's
College, she cried herself to sleep.
forgot to crimp her hair, and said
that nothing was the matter.
So, of course, when he came home
on his first vacation, it all happened
as it could not very well help hap
pening, and as | suppose it must go
on happening to the end of all
young things dreaming OF. of old
ones warning.
She sat in the choir in a blue
dress with white spots, with a pink
bonnet annd pink cheeks, and sang
in a very sweet little country voice,
that quivered and eurled about the
pillars of the sunny white meeting
house like incense in an open field
on May day, you might have
thought-or you might not.
( He, grown rather tall, rather quiet
with long hair, and the unmistakable
st. David's shawl, sat below in his
fathers box pew-and listened
One sunday it chaneed that the
Reverend Mr., Love, the recently
settled and very popular shepherd
of the ''meeting-house," felt moved
in the spirit to preach to his flock a
sermon upon Christian amity, and
to suggest as its most fitting music
al accompaniment hymn 857 of the
Sweet Singer of Israer' (just intro.
duced).
All, you excellent mothers with
washing-days on your minds, and We
fathers struggling to keep youl
faith under the discovery of Toms
first cigar, do you never suspect in
| your stupid good hearts, the tears OIL
| solid comfort rolling into YOU
spectacles as you sing, and YOU
souls a glow with all the hidder
meanings Of fellowship in the on,
Master whom they who love no
never know-do you never suspec
the iirtations conducted over tha
admirable hymn?
1t may be very much too bad, bu'
! it is very much the case. 1t is quite
as bad in me to suggest the sacrlege
to your young people. Bless YOU
indignant souls They stand ir
lneed Of no suggestion. Ask them
| / do not deny that it is atrocious in
me to spoil the hymn for you; but
that is another matter.
| She then, in her blue and white
/ dress, with a sunbeam struggling
through a little ground-glass gallery
window upon her pink bonnet, sang
"Blest be the tie that binds
Our hearts in Christian love;
The fellowship Of kindred minds.
. Is like to that above"
1t struck him that her voice wa:
less like incense now, and more like
melted silver; which was a very
good fancy, by-the-way, and he
j would make a note of it against
some indefinite exigencies as clas;
orator.
aOur fears, our hops, our aims are one,
Our comforts and our cares"
faltered the little silver voice; anC
so tinkled into this:
"When we asunder part,
1t gives usinward pain;
,, But we shall still be joined in heart
And he, turning round with tn,
audience, back to the Rev. Mr.. Low
as was the fashion in the Bloomsbu
ry First Church, lifted his face tt
hers, and their foolish young eyei
met-met and dropped, and the worl
was done.-ELIzABETH STUAR
PHELPS, in HaTpeT's Magazine.