The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1871-03-28


Well, after that we saw our girl at
the window most every day. 1 own
that l watched for her constantly. As
for Tom, he whitfield, and grunted, and
grunted, and made as if he didn't care
whether he saw her or not l stood il
just as long as could; and finally /
stepped over to Mrs. Malone'e, one
evening, and managed to get an intro.
duction to Miss Victorine Saunders
the young lady's name, sir; pretty
name, too.
don't think il would be prudent to
try to describe my feelings when for
the first time too seat face 70 face
with that wee fairy of a girl. My heart
just galloped about loose in my breast.
Once it got into my throat and staid
there some time just rolling over and
over. | think my face must have
changed colCr fifty times a minute.
Can't remember what l said nor
what she said, but had a pleasant
sort of time the hour / staid. Miss
Saunders was a niece of Mrs. Malone.
She was a chatty little thing with the
most expressive face in the world, but
roguish, bless my life! Why, sir, her
eyes just danced in her head.
Call again, Mr.. Duncan" she said,
as she rose to bid me good evening. l
left that house feeling lighter than
cork and sweeter than sugar. Music
hummed in my ears--joy leaped
through my veins. On the steps that
led to our rooms, met Tom. looked
right straight into his eyes and there
l saw just little bit Of cloud, just
faint CLEAN of displeasure. We ran
up stairs side by side, our feet spatting
sharply on the steps. When we reach-
ed our room Tom sat down and hauled
out newspaper to which for half an
hour he paid strict attention. got out
my banjo and sang-'Kiss me Quick
Presently Tom leaned back IN his
chair and laughed loud and long, then
he read aloud the anecdote that had
so tickled him. For my part didn't
think it very funny at all.
Next morning | proposed fishing.
Tom said he had big headache, so l
went alone, leaving him smelling Wig
orously of camphor bottle. In all
my liie,Iz haG never before known him
to have the heat4abe.
Pshaw such fsf.hg as 1 had. Not
nibble did 1 get. Tie. brook bubbled
lazily, and the wind hummed sleepily
away up in the white sycamore trees.
A little bit of bird with yellow wings
and a red throat sat on swinging
branch and sang, 'Chip-a-ree, Victor
ine' all the time, and tiny nest was
hard by, just chuck full OF young ones.
stayed by the brook an hour,
thinking how happy it would be to
have nest like that little bird, with
some one to sing around like bee
around flower. Then / wound up
my line and walked toward town, while
fainter and fainter grew the voice of
the red throat, 'Chip-a-ree, Victorine 7
When l reached the foot of the
stairway to our attic, glanced over to-
ward Mrs. Malone's. Some one came
out of the door. 1t was Tom. | saw by
the smile on his face that his headache
ran up to my room, put away my
fishing rod, and was singing Bury me
under a pile of straw when Tom came
in. / did not look up, but just picked
away at those strings with might and
might aud main, the banjo fairly talk
ing.
"Umph!" said Tom, taking cigar
and raking a match on the wall.
Catch any fish ?"
"No." said l, "did your"
Tom sucked away at his cigar as if
he did not hear me.
"How's your headache?" l added.
He looked at me sharply for a Sec
ond. Then wagging his head dolor-
ously, he replied
"Did ache swfully. Like to bust
ed"
Well, time ran on slowly and de-
liciously; but somehow l didn't enjoy
it iust as ought to. Tom and / play
ed funny game. 1t was laughable.
Whenever my back was turned Tom
was over at Mrs. Malone's. When
Toms back was turned l was there.
Now, then, | loved Tom. I'd a died
for him. Good OLD Tom, I'll never
have another such friend. No, his
likes not to he found at all.
Well, day by day Tom went over
to talk to her. Day after day she
grew sweeter and prettier, day after
day Toms face grew sallower, and day
after day my face grew thinner.
Down in my heart | pitied Tom,
and just as deeply pitied myself.
Sometimes the good spirit in my heart
plead with me to give way and let Tom
have Victorine, but how could /? He
had saved my life more than once, but
what was life before saw her.
Filled with conflicting emotions, l
sat one evening alone in our room.
Tom, | knew, was over at Mrs. Ma
Ions. Stronger than ever my good
spirit was arguing with me. | was
thinking how happy Tom and | had
been together since our bOy-hUod.
Must / make him wretched now?
While l was thinking Tom came in.
His face was yellow as saffron.
"Ned," said he, taking my hand in