The Plymouth Democrat. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1869-1941, 1870-09-15

mind the pleasant Sunday morning year
ago, the pretty village, the queer little
church with its rustic congregation, the
stranger who had held with her the dingy
hymn book, and even the pleasant, dark
eyes that had looked down for moment
into hers But she was not disposed to
share her "reminiscences with the present
company.
"Plsgue take the strolling singer" ex-
claimed Mrs. Barlow, to herself. 81 could
set dog on him with pleasure, for the
mischief he has done. But why in the
name Of common sense couldn't Hunt
ever be ready with little graceful turn
of that sort? To be sure, he couldn't de
the troubadour style with his bass voice,
splendid as it is. 1t takes tenor for that
kind of thing"
Perhaps may as well mention here
that Mr.. Hunt married Laura Hathaway
the following Christmas. He fully be-
lieves her the only woman in the world
who could have suited him; and has not
the slightest idea that any agency but his
own will was instrumental in bringing
about result which has made him the
happiest of men.
HI.-THREE TIMES, AND OUT.
1t was little past sunset when the
steamer from Pittsburgh touched at the
little levee at G; and one of her
passengers, learning that she would be de-
tanned until midnight in taking ON freight,
thought he might agreeably spend the in
terval of waiting In d stroll about the
town. The passenger, who wes no other
than our friend Laurence Hardy, was on
d \ to 70 o.,t
man at wedding on which occasion lie
was TO have for his partner Miss Clara
Avery, that very dark. eyed enchantress
of whom we found him dreaming year
ago. The two were no " formally betroth-
Ell, and their marriage was to take place
in the autumn.
INDUCING in lovers reverie, Hardy
strolled long time about the mOonlit
streets, and was returning to the landing
through what seemed a private lane that
ran along the water side. He was sauu-
tering slowly On in the shadow of some
gardens, when his ear caught the tinkling
music of a guitar, and, looking through
an opening IN the shriibbery, he beheld
the musician-a lady in light flowing
dress, seated in the curtained recess of a
window opening into brilliantly lighted
psrlOr. Her face was turned from him,
but he could see the outlines of graceful
head aud the little hand, lowering over
the strings, showed like a lily IN the
moonlight In moment she BEGAN to
sing and, to his surprise, Hardy recog-
nized the voice of the stranger in the VII
lage church OF Benton. There could be
no mistake. The voice was one In a
thOusand-a clear, bril- iant soprano, with
f1ute-like purity of tone, and Ger
tain sympathetic quality which lett its
echo in the heart as well as the ear.
Hardy was passionately fond of music,
and he was in mood to particularly en-
joy whatever savored Of romance or sen
timent. He listened breathlessly; and as
the last strain melted away sudden i'm
pulse prompted him to reply. AS he
proceeded he saw, with amusene nt, that
the company within the room were listen
ing intently. He knew that he sang well,
and he was doing his very best.
81 would give something" he said, as he
finished his lay, and turned to resume mis-
walk, "to know if che recognized my
voice as quickly as did hcrs. 1t is hardly
likely, fear. But who can she be? l
will certainly ask her next time, fer have
a presentiment that shall sing with her
again. Three times and ont ! they say"
At this moment, and while he was still
some distance from the levee where the
boat lay, he heard whistle and the rush
of her paddles in the water. He darted
forward and ran swiftly to the landing,
but, On reaching it, found that he was
five minutes too late. The boat was a
dozen lengths from the shore, and reced
ing so rapidly down the stream as to rem
der vain any effort to signal her.
How Hardy cursed his own folly i'll DIAL
lying To sing serenades TO a stranger when
time was so precious! If he had not
loitered by that fatal garden-gate he would
have been in time There was no other
boat until the next day at noon; he must
either wait for thst, or drive twenty miles
across the country to a railway station,
where he could catch a morning train
for Cincinnati. He chose the latter plan,
AID gained the train, but only to encOun
ter fresh detentions-a damaged bridge
an encountered track-nO danger; only
fatal delay. They missed connection
and, to make long story short, when
Hardy reached Cincinnati the wedding
was over, and the bridal party, including
Clara Avery, had been gone twenty four
hours
But the worst was yet to come. When
Hardy failed to appear at the wedding il
became necessary to supply his place as
groOmsman. The choice OF substitute
fell on Jack Fillmore, a young lawyer from
st. Louisa handsome fellow, with q
killing pair of eyes, pretty turn for sen
timent, the ability to waltz all night with
out tagging, and any amount of assurance
Clara's tickle fancy was caught. In 8
week she had transferred to him the whole
small stock of her affections and when
at the end of fortnight, Hardy, again
delayed by business, managed TO join the
bridal party at Niagara, Miss Avery Wa.
engaged to his rival.
He was not a man to contest the posses
sion of such woman's heart. He Offered
neither rcprOach nor remonstrance, Blu
proudly renounced all claim upon her
and departed i'll the very next steamer fo
Europe.
But the poor fellow was hard hit. H
had honestly loved the shallow and selfisl
beauty, and moreover, he had believed il
her and it is sore thing to have al
ones dearest illusions, as well as hopes
shattered at once. If he had been com
PEELED to work for his living he woul,
| very likely have found a speedy cure il
employment, but, unfortunately, he ha
any amount of leisure in which to broo
over and magnify his sorrows. He ram
bled over Europe, seeking out all tn
most melancholy places to go and b
wretched in, and finding kind of disma
solace in the thought chat there was n
solace for him. But he was too amiabl
for misanthropy, and too healthy for pei
petual gloom. Thackeray, that wis
student OF human hearts, tells us that, le
ayoung man be ever 80 great sufferer fror
the griefs of love, there comes time whe
he begins to sleep sound o. nights, and +
have some relish for beefsteak So wher
at the end of two years, Hardy yielded t
the solicitations OF his parents and r,
turned home, he was really not who'll
miserable He STILL indeed, regarded him
self as "blighted being" He was fon
of turning off the gas and sitting alone a
his window on stormy nights; of think
ing what hollow world we live in; an
1 n ho1inuiuu hot for III 10,