The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1850-1873, 1871-03-17

| ditcI tIyluS ulS uduu dt VdIlOuS JIdOe>S
and failing in all, had finally hit upol
the above mode, which gratified his in
dOlent disposition, by calling forth littl
exertion save the exercise of that litera
ry ingenuity of which he possessed :
large share. He had formerly been
friend of Jack CarletOn's, who, an hou
or two before the opening of this story
had fallen in with him on his returl
from prolonged Continental tour, un
dertaken nominally for the benefit @
his health, but more possibly to get ri
of the large income left him by hi
father.
The young men had grasped hand
cordially enough when they recognizes
each other, and soon after adjourned Il
the lodgings of Morgan, to have a tall
over old times.
1t was during this talk that Morgan
confided to his friend his present mod
of living, with strict injunctions to kee]
it profound secret, "as of course vol
see, old fellow" said he, "it might prov,
my ruin if known"
Jack, however, did not see how hi
friend could be in greater state of ruil
than he appeared to be at present.
"You were always a good-fOr. moth
ing scamp, Tom," said he.
"And you were always a lucky doj
jack" returned Tom. "By the. by
what are you going to do with yoursel
this Christmas"
"Why, to spend it in thejolliest styl,
at the jolliest place in Christendom,
replied Jack. ''They have not seen m,
at Barby Holt for eight years, and
expect grandmother and the rest O
them will go mad with joy when
make my sudden appearance there"
| With this fiattering conclusion, Mr.
Jack Carleton elevated his legs till hi
feet reposed on the mantelpiece.
"Barby Holt Manor, in Nottingham
shire?" inquired the signor, suddenly.
"The very same, old boy,n' said hi;
companion. "Why do you ask?"
"Only that had letter from ther,
to-day" replied Tom.
IA letter!-What about:" inquired
Jack, with innocent coOlness.
"Why, concerning my advertise
ment, of course" answered Tom, rum
maging among some papers.
.'Ah, one of my grandfather's guests
L suppose, in for a lark" said Jack.
"What's his name?"
1T is not man." replied Tom; "she
signs herself Maggie Barton.'"
maggie Barton!" exclaimed Jack
"I know her-at least 1 did. May
read it?'' he asked eagerly.
| 1t was short letter, in girlish hand
writing, describing herself as tall and
slight, with golden hair and hazel eyes
| and requesting to be favored with 9
carte-de-Uisite of her future husband
by return post, of course. Inclosed in
the envelope was the fee of thirty
stamps.
Carleton held the letter up before his
eyes long after he had-read it. The
writer's name, Maggie Barton," was
associated with very pleasant picture
i'm this young mans mind. Long ago,
on bright summer day, in the woods,
the sunlight glancing through the
boughs fell on the gay figures of pic
mic party. One figure in particular
seemed very plain in his memory; il
| was that of girl about twelve years
old, with her golden hair falling from
under the broad brim of sun hat with
blue ribbons. He could see her dis
tinctly now; the graceful figure, raised
on tiptoe. to reach some unattainable
flower offruit, the white arms reaching
high, the beseeching eyes under the
shadow of the hat-and this was Mag
gle Barton. Then he, tall lad of sew
enteen, easily reaching the coveted
treasure, caught the wilful beauty by
the hair, saying, "You owe me kiss
for this, Maggie. Will you pay me
| whenever / choose to claim it?'
.sIll pay you a dozen, if you like,
Jack" was the careless reply, as she
broke away, and joined her compan-
ions.
But the very next day Jack departed
without his kiss. for a continental edu-
cation; and as you see, Maggie BartOn's
name was almost one of the first to
cross his path on his return.
And so she was one ofhis grandfath-
er's guests at Barby, and he Jack
would see her in less than fOrty-eight
hour; and standing there, with her let
ter in his hand, a scheme entered this
young mans head worthy of such a
reckless fellow as he was.
an do it," he thought, 81 don't care
for anyone else, and of course she is not
engaged, or why did she answer such
an advertisements"
Morgan he said, suddenly, twill
you do me favor?"
Anything you like replied the
signor, in pre-occupied tone.
Jack drew an envelope from his
pocket, and selecting one likeness OF
himself from about a dozen, he laid il
on the table.
"Morgan," said he, 'I want you to
send this to Miss Barton in answer to
her application; and / mean it shall
come true old boy,
1t was Christmas Eve, and Miss Mag
gle Barton was putting the last touches
to her evening toilet for the forthcom.
ing ball. She was tall, and you would
think stately, till you saw her face;
and then the piquant expression of the
brown eyes and the demure laughter oi
the lip led you tOsuppose she was more
merry than dignifed; and if your OBJ.
servation extended to her conduct dur
ing whole evening, ! am sorry to say
you would be compelled to acknowl.
her little "fast."
She had dismissed her maid, and
with her pretty head littleon one side
was trying the effect of a scarlet geran.
ium among the embrosial pufis of hair
Of course, Miss Barton wore a CHG
N non-all ladies do nowadays and 8
long curl behind her left ear. Present.
Iy the geranium was settled satisfactO-
rily, and with quick movement
Maggie fastened the door, and drew
from beneath book cover a certe-dt
Uisite; and TIE gentleman on the card
was Mr.. Jack Carleton.
But, of course, Maggie did not know
this. The very existence of such per-
son had long escaped her memory
and even had she remembered the
name it would have been difficult tC
associate the STRIPPING of grandfather:
picnic with the elegant, moustached
young gentleman before her.
In truth he was elegant. Leaning
against a carved pedestal, upon the tor
of which reposed the most stylish q
New markets, in company with 8
graceful vase with dropping flowers
an ample curtain and bookcase filled
with all the gems of literature cOmpos'
ed the background. Miss Barton sur
veyed it with satisfaction.
$50 this is my future husband, ac'
cording to the astrologer," said Mis-:
Barton. "The gypsy woman said
should marry curate. Pshaw! what
an idiot am to have written such 9
FOOLS letter, dare say l am duped,
along with many others. l wish had
not written. 1t is good thing none