The Portland daily press., 1871-08-29

A BREACH OF PROMISE CAsE-THE RAJ
TURES OF CUPID.

A BREACH OF PROMISE CASE-THE RAP
TURES OF CUPID.
Myres Us. Harris.-This was one of those
rare and peculiar cases-breach of promise of
marrage-and occupied the greater part of
the forenoon. From the evidence it appears
that the parties both live in or near OnOnda-
ga; that Harris had been frequent visitor
for about two years and halt at the house OF
the plaintiff-a widow woman nearly thirty
years of age, with three children. 1t seems
to have been the opinion of the friends of the
plaintiff land no doubt she thought so herself)
that Harris would marry her; but he (Harris)
from some unaccountable cause, few
months ago suddenly disco 7ered that he low
ed another yonng lady better, and verified
this belief a short time since by marrying that
other lady. Hence this action was brought
by the plaintiff to recover damages, to apply
as save to her wounded affections. The
following tender epistle, sent by the loving
swain, will interest our readers, and we rec
ommend it as model love letter:
NV Dear Mrs. M.-Every time 1 think OF
YOU my heart fops up aud down like churn-
dasher. Sensations of unutterable joy caper
over it like young goats over a stable roof, and
thrill through it like Spanish needles through
a pair of tow linen trowsers. AS gosling
swlmmeth with delight in mud-puddle, so
swim in a sea of glory. Visions OF ecstatic
rapture thicker than the hairs of backing
brush, and brighter than the hues of hum
ming birds pinOns, visit me in my slumbers;
and. borne on their invisible wings, your i'm
age stands before me, and reach out to
grasp it, like pointer swapping at blue
bottie-hy. When | first beheld your angelic
reflections was bewildered, and my brain
whirled around like bumble-bee under d
glass tumber. My eyes stood open like cell
lar doors in a country town, and l lifted up
my ears to catch the silvery accents of your
voice. My tongue refused to wag, and in ST.
lent alteration drank in the sweet infec-
tion OF love as a thirsty man swallOweth a
tumbler of hot whiskey punch.
Since the light of your face fell upon my
lie. sometimes feel as if l could lift myself
ND by my boot straps to the top OF the church
steeple, and pull the bell-rope for singing
school. Day and night you are in my
thoughts When Aurora, blushing like a
bride, rises from. her saffron -cOlored couch
when the jay bird pipes its tunetul lay in the
apple tree by tbs Sipring house; when the
| chanticieer's shrill clarion herads the coming
morn when the awakening pig arises iron
1 SoNth
| ipo's refreshments; when the drowsy beetle
| wheels to droning fight at sultry nOon-tile
l and when the lowing herds come home a
| milking time, think of thee; and like
| niece of gum elastic, my heart seems stretch
A ed clear across my bosom. Your hair Is lik'
the name of sorre horse powdered Will
gold: and the brass tpins skrewed through
your waterfall fill me with unbouhded awe
| Your forehead is smoother than the eiDoW
L ara DlOrl0nS
| hold. In their liquid depth see iesions o
little cupids bathing, like teshort OF ants il
| an old army cracker. When their fire hit me OF
| nv manly breast it penetrated my whole
| anatomy. as a load of bird-shot through rot
ten apple.
Your nose is from chunk of Parian mai
BILE, and your mouth is puckered with swee
! ness. Nectar fingers on your lips, like hone
I on bears paw; and myriads OF unfedge
| kisses are there, ready to fly out and ligt
somewhere, like blue birds out OF their ps
| EMS nest. Your laugh rings in my ears llk
| the windharp's strain, or the bleat of stra
la, ob on a bleak hill side. The dimples
| Won't cheeks are like bowers in beds
| ropes or hollows III Cakes oi "''>
sugar. so,,oe and mol
/ am dying to fly to thy presence, anu r ~.
/ ont the burning eloquenee OF my io'e,
thr;f@v h Ousewiyes pour out hot coffee: AVA
4 from Won an as melancholy az q SIGN "a q
4 Sometimes 4 can hear the June bugs Oh q
snonJency brHzing in my ears, and feel IL
spInTl pid I;zar,ls. of despair crawling down n
hack ho " II, ,eUuth fears. like thousand mi
nows. nibble at my spirits; and my soul
pierced with doubts, as an old cheese is Dor
with skipper s.
| My love 70 you as.stronger than the smell
Cofey's pat ent butter, or the kick OF you
COW, and m ore unselfsh than kittens fl
caterwaul. As a song bird bankers for
light OF day., the cautious mouse for the fr'
Il bacon in til trap, as mean pup bankers
ter new mi TX, so llong fer thee.
II You are fairer than the speckled p9l
sweeter tho " Yankee doughnut iriea