Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1871-02-14

and ow somewhat stale argument
about womans finess aud woman
unhtness for many things. At last
perhaps because he was q little cor
nered, Hubert said
Now, doctor, there was a queer
thing happened 10 q student in my
class IN the seminary. | don't sup
pose, doctor, that you are much in
terosted IN a love story, but | woulc
just like TO tell you this one, becaus,
think you dare not apply your
principles to it 10 every part. Theo
rles often fail when practically ap
piled, you know"
go on, Hu, go on; I'd like tC
hear the story. And as for my
principles, they'll bear applying any
wherel I" and the old doctor rubbed
bis hands together confidently.
This friend of mine, Henry Gill
bert" said Hu, "was, like myself.
poor. "A long time ago, when he was
a boy, the son Of a poor widow, the
lot on which he lived joined at the
back the lot on which lived Mr..
Morton, at that time a thriving mer-
chant, now the principal capitalist
in that part of the country. AS
there was back gate between the
lots, my friend was the constant
playmate from earliest childhood of
Jennie Morton. He built her play
houses out of old boards, he moulded
clay brick for her use, and carved
tiny toys ont Of pine blocks for her
amusement. As he,greN larger, and
as Jennie's father grew richer, and
lived in greater style, Henry grew
more shy. But by all the unspoken
language Of the eyes the two never
ailed to make their unchanging re-
gard known to each other.
Henry went to college early. AT
vacation time the two met But the
growing difference in their social po-
sition could not but be felt. Jennie's
friends were of q different race from
his own. Her parents never thought
of inviting him TO their entertain
ments. And if they had, a rusty
coat and lack Of money to spend
on kid gloves would have effectually
kept him away. He was proud.
This apparent neglect stung him
1t is true that Jennie Morton was all
the more kind. But his quick and
foolish pride made him fancy that he
detected pity in her kindness. And
yet all this only made him determin-
ed to place himself in a position in
which he could ask her baud as her
equal But you do not understand,
doctor, as / do, how irresistible is
this conviction of duty in regard TO
the ministry. Under that pressure
my friend settled it that he must
preach. And now there was before
him q good ten years of poverty at
least. What should be do about it u?
sin his extremity he took advice
of favorite theological professor.
Fhe professor advised him not to
seek the hand Of rich girl. She
would not be suited to the trials Of
minister's life. But finding that
Henry was firm in his opinion that
this soand general principal did not
in the least apply TO this particular
case, the professor proceeded 60
touch the teuderest chord in the
young mans heart. He told him
that It would be ungenerous, and in
some sense dishonorable, for him t.
take a woman delic ately brought up
into the poverty and trial incident
to minister's life. If you under
stood, sir, how morbid his sense of
honor is, you would not wonder at
the impression this suggestion made
upon him. To give up the ministry
was in his mind to DO q traitor to
duty and to God. To win her if he
could, was to treat ungenerOusly her
whose happiness was dearer to him
thousand times than his own"
81 hope he didn't give her up"
said the doctor.
eyes, he gave her up, in double
s pi~it of medieval selfsacrifce.
Looking toward the ministry, be sur
rendered his love as some of the old
monks sacrificed love, ambition, and
all other things to conscience. Look
ing at her happiness, he sacrificed
his hopes in more than knightly
devotion to her welfare. The knights
sometimes gave their lives. He gave
more.
"For three years he did not trust
himself to return to his home But
having graduated and settled himself
for nine months over q church, there
was no reason why he shouldn't go
to see his mother again. And once
in the village, the sight of the old
school house and the old church re-
vived a thousand memories that he
bad been endeavoring to Danish.
The garden walks, and especially
the apple-trees, that are the most un-
changeable Of landmarks, revived
the old passion with undiminished
power. He paced his room at night.
He looked out at the new house Of
his rich neighbor. He chafed under
tue TeslThlHl vi MS NOW not 10 Inlnk
again of Jennie Morton. 1t was the
old story of the monk who thinks
the world subdued, but who finds il
ell at once about to assume the mas
terry of him. | do not know how
the struggle might have ended, but
it was all at once stopped from with
out
There reached him a rumor that
Jennie was already the betrothed
wife of Colonel Pearson, who was
her fathers partner in business. And
indeed Colonel Pearson went in and
out at Mr. Mortou's gate every even
ing. and the father was known to ia
vor his suit.
Jennie was not engaged to him,
however. Thr ee times she had re-
fused him. The fourth time, in def.
erence to her fathers wishes, she
had consented to think about it fol-
a week In truth Heory had been
home ten days and not called upon
her, and all the hope she bad cherish
ed in that direction, and all the wea.
..;.c. eaap,ad IN uain Whap