Clarksville chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 186?-1872, 1870-07-09
Bachelors Love Making.

You would have known It for q
bachelor's den, the moment you put
your head In the. door. Blue, spicy
wreatIis Of cigar smoke circling up to
the ceiling-newspapers under the
table-castile soap In the tiny bronze
card receiver-slippers on the mantle
piece, and general confusion every
where. And yet, Mr.. Thornbrooke-
poor, deluded mortal-solemnly be-
lieved that his room was in the most
perfect order. For hadn't he poked
the empty champagne bottles under
the bed, and sent the wood box to
bear them company, and hung his
morning gown over the damp towels,
and busted the ashes sprinkled hearth
with his best silk handkerchief! He'd
like to see o room I'm better trim than
that--guessed he would and now he
was mending himself up, preparatory
to going a calling, to call on the very
prettiest girl In New York. Not that
he was particularly fond of the needle,
but when fellows whole foot goes
through a hole IN the northeast toe
of his stocking, and there isn't but
ton on his shirt, its time to repair
damages.
Now. as Mr.. Tbornbrool,e,s whole
stock Of industrial imnlements con-
sisted of lunp of wax. nm enormous
pajr of scissors and one needle. the
ipending didn't progress RAPIDLY. His
way OF mnnapinv fhe button nues-
tion. too. necessariiv ipvoived soms
delav: he had IN c,,t ali these nsef,i
annenlages from another shirt and
sew them on and next when tho
second shirt was wanted whv II WAS
easv enough tn make q trs nsfer ayain
See what II ia To- be n bachelor of gen.
ius, n never occurrel I'm him m 6nv
n few buttons extra " $3.50 "
"Buttons ara mt much trouble. ~
said Mr.. Thornbrooke to himself, as
he wiped the perspiration from his
brow, "but when 1t comes to coat
sleeves, what the mischief Is fellow
to do? / havn't any black thread
either?' and he looked dolorously ut
a small tear just In his elbow, where
some vicious nail had caught In the
broadcl0th. IA black pin may do
for tonight, and tomorrow I'll send
1t to the tailor. The fact is, l ought
to be married; and SO l would, II 1
only dared to ask Lillian. o, dear! I
know she wouldn't thaveme-and vet
Pm not so certain either-if 1 could
only muster the courage boldly to put
the question. But lust as sure as /
approach the dangerous ground, nv
heart fails me. And then that puppy.
Jones, with his curled mustache and
hair parted i'm the middle-always
hanging round Lillian, and quoting
poetry to her-if could have the
privilege of kicking him across the
Street, I'D die happy. IKe isn't BASH
full, not he. If somebody would only
invent some new way of popping the
question--somethi that wasn't
quite so embarrassing
Orr boro ooyo his b,oot o,oss,,
curls nm aytro hr,,sb snrvey.d hin;.
salf cr;t;oaI,v In Tho giass snd tha,,
w;t,, a Jsan s;nh aat 7nrtI, 20 coll ~,
tho ;aontio,,I ;i;an ID ,.,,,n,J ras,,i,,
inv no ha LoJ d"ma a ;hnnssnd ,;,,, ss
h,srs that is nnrb rbans".n,avhsM s''
Oh The ha.,, f'Inasa nf the hoohaI-
orsi
When Mr.. Thornbroole arrived
within the charmed precincts Of Mr..
RaymOnd's handsome parlors, velvet
or,,',i' pviIv"' '.,,,.d uieeu nc ,ma VIII sMI % anu
with th,sn o'Jwru narr, ~ sI noc & u tnat
vi, '..",,n',,a tn,n ,,na,,;.ton HI,aa
M M2;iy w"s " ~ hon" e IN p'Gbs;l bew;ld.r;m% a,
,l;r an,no dn,a o dood lei, .,h;,Ss
@ @aca ornnnd % ,ha , ashn,u,dors uI snJ % !, ",e "rin,e
son moss rose twisted i'm among the
rippling waves of her soft brown hair.
She never looked half so pretty; and
thank Providence. Jones wasn't on
hand for once in his life. But what
was almost as bad, Lily's cousin was
there-a tall, slender, black eyed girl,
with arch lips, and cheeks As red as a
Spitzenberg apple. D, how Thorn
brooke wished that Miss Esther AL
len was at the bottom of the Red Sea,
or anyw IN ara alsa axaapt in that par