The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1871-10-03
Only n WOman's Hair.

Only n Woman's Hair.
Theodore Pownell, Esq, merchant, was
retiring from business, looking over his
papers, and winding up his affairs, pre-
paratory to his leaving his town house
and settling "for life," he said, aud his
friends said for him. And yet, Theodore
Pownel, though upright, strong and hand
some still, might with propriety have been
called by the rising generation around
him, "an old man." The soft brown
curls that fringed his lofty brow showed
few slvcry threads among their luxuri-
ancc, it is true. But for all that, Mr..
Pownell was sixty-one on the day which
| write, and had seen most of his early
companions and friends fade away from
his path in life, as he went forward, Wig
orous and strong,
Having no longer to take stock of his
extensive business operations, Mr.. Pow
nell, at the close of a fatiguing day spent
in his late partners office, over the adjust
ment of their joint accounts, amused
himself by taking stock of the past life
which had now come 80 satisfactorily,
but, forever, to the end.
Amusing himself, did say? Nay, his
face grave, and even sad, as he
busted himself with the contents of
desk and safe that stood, always locked,
in the apartment he called his "study,"
at home. Letters. papers, bills, and re-
ccipts had been looked over, and put or
derly away.
Mr.. Pownell paused to rest for few
moments in his work.
1t was summer, and the windows of
the study were open The house fronted
upon n square, and had garden at the
back. Through the window sic could see
the waving OF trees; and hear the sound
of light laughing aud merry voices. His
daughter, Georgia, was walking IN the
garden, with two of her young lady
friends. He could see her well from
where he sat. Truly she was beautiful
girl, with her jet-black hair and large
dark eyes, stately figure, and her rich
brunette complexion. Very like her
mother, whom he had married solely for
her beauty and her grace twenty years
ago.
And the Mr.. Pownell sighed. This is
a scandalous world, as wo all know, 10 our
sorrow. Mrs. Grundy had dived deep
into Mr.. Pownells private history long
ere this, and had always averred that
Mrs. Powncll with all her beauty was
only Il shallow coquette and frt, who
thought more Of exhibiting her charms
in public, for the admiration of strangers,
than of making the home of her husband
Il pleasant place of refuge to the wearicd
aud harrassed man.
BE this as it may, it is certain that
Mrs. Powncll, still stately and handsome
she was many years younger than her
husband-sat at that very moment in her
splendid drawing.room, entertaining with
mods and becks and wreathed smiles"
three or four visitors 1t is also certain
that though Mr.. Pownell was polite and
attentive cavalier to his wife and daugh-
ters whenever they required services, at
opera, party or ball, he would as soon
have looked for sympathy, in trouble or
disgrace, to the man in the moon, or to
the Egyptian Sphynx, as to either of
these beautiful, graceful women who lived
in his house, and ate of his bread, and
bore the same name with him.
1t was opera night and he was in full
evening dress, for in the course of an hour
he was 10 have the honor of escorting the
ladies' of the household to their carriage
and their box.
Opera night An organ out in the
square suddenly struck up one of the very
airs he was to hear that evening. He
hummed it mechanically to the end as he
listened. And then the stop was changed,
and an old, old air rang out-an air that
he had thought sweet and sad, and full
of the most plantivo melody, once
Once-once! Nay. it must have been
an hundred years or more since he stood
beside the fence on the "old homo farm"
and heard sweet young voice thrill out
the music of
In tho days when W. went gipsyng
A long time ago.
The days when we went gipsying,"
indeed They were over forever for him
For his fashionable wile and stately
daughter they had never been. In his
own life, harrassed and anxious as it had
often been at times, was Il store Of exper-
ience such as they had never known
Still the organ played on. and the rich
mans thoughts went wandering back to
the old red farm house on the "Sunset
Hill" He saw himself once more Il bare
foot boy, driving the cows home from pas
ture with blue eyed child in pink
gingham frock and sun bonnet trotting
by his side. He saw himselfa tall lad at
the Sunday school, and the pink gingham
frock sat near him. and was helped by
him over sundry fearful pitfalls in the
shape of long words in the spelling book,
obstrusive questions in geography, and
big-headed sums in tho dog-eared arth-
metic that wouldn't add up" IIo saw
himself, later still, spruce clerk in a
country shop, whose stock of worldly wis
dom far outshone that ofthe "pastors and
masters" to whom he was still forced in
a measure to submit The pink ging.
ham had changed 10 a snowy lawn
sprinkled, with iorget-me.nots as blue
the wearer's eyes, or his own. In those
days their eyes had been said to bo ex-
actly alike. He glanced at the glass
now. His own were dim with unshed
tears, and he could not compare theiI
color with the memory of the past.
Pretty, gentle, quiet Susie Gray. How
; swectly those blue eyes looked up at hin
; over the fence by moonlight that niph