Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1871-08-10
The BacheiOr's WOOing.

the country to see patient. The
poor woman was suffering from erysip-
elias, and, though married but short
time, the husbands affections seemed
diminishing for, after remaining a
half hour or so with his sick wife, he
would leave her to the care of a nurse,
and stroll off over the farm, or visit
the neighboring town and smoke and
joke with his companions, entirely for
getting the wife he had sworn to love
and protect through sickness and
health.
/ had left the sufferer a little eaiser,
and returned to my own home, fitted
up in true bachelor fashion, half mile
out of town.
1t was raining when I came in, drew
off my wet clothes, kicked my boots
into one corner, placed my feet on the
fender before the large, old-fashioned
fireplace, and commenced to rumin-
ate.
My thoughts first turned to the last
patient had visited. Was she happy
in her married life? Though neglect
ed for time, her joy at his return was
all the more intense, and she accepted
his excuse of business for negligence,
placing in his hands the happiness of
confding, loving wife. A rich gift
Then 1 asked myself the question -
Was he happy9 Evidently, yes; for
nothing, not even his wife's sickness,
seemed to trouble him. But was he
happier in being married9 took a
Whit at my meerscham, glanced at the
pile of wet clothes on a chair, and
shutting my eyes, saw sweet-faced
girl, young and fresh and full of life,
with rosy checks and dimpled hands,
walked quickly up to care-worn, wet
and repulsive doctor, take his damp
muddy clothes from him, hang them up
on a nail in the entry; bring his slip
pers and dry socks, and, putting her
rounded arms around his neck, kiss
his bronzed cheek; then, sitting on q
cricket at his feet, made hot brandy
sling for fear he would catch his death
o cold The picture was pretty. Sup
pose that doctor was myself.
The hired man in the kitchen, smok-
ing his dirty clay pipe, broke out in a
jubilant strain
"Not for joel Not Cor Joe
If he knowsjt,
Not for Josephp'
If old Joe thought it was absurd,
certainly l ought to abandon the pref
ty idea. But / must raise an argu-
ment of my own, to thoroughly satisfy
myself. In my present state of bach
elorship my happy hours were not so
intensely happy, probably as they
would be if / had pretty wife to
share my joys. But, on the other
hand, my hours of sorrow never went
so deep, nor cut so sharp, as they
might were / married. And perhaps
they did not come SO often, seeing |
now had but one beings happiness to
care for, and that my own. The idea
was selfish one, l acknowledged
Suppose-well, my pipe had gone out
and / was about to retire, when Joe
knocked at the door, and, on my bid
ding him come in,' his bushy head on
ly answered the summons, bearing a
grin about his mouth, while he handed
me little perfumed, dainty note in a
dainty envelope.
when did this come, Joe| / asked
about two hours ago, sir. l for
got to hand il to you when you first
got back. Jack Davis brought it over
from Squire Reynolds
1 broke the seal, unfolded the note
and was hardly able to read the lines
traced so delicately on the vapory
French paper. 1 made it out some
thing like this:
DEAR DocroR.;-My niece, Miss
Ward, from New York, arrived thi'