Eaton weekly Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1866-1875, 1872-03-14

from her yet. I have much to say, and
will do her no injury"
Let him stay, MOTHER" said Con
tent, with the purest rose-red mantling
in her pale cheek, and her eyes bright
ening as they had not for many day.
"Let George stay, mother, if you love
me-"
George somehow got hold of the old
lady's hand and squeezed it hard, and
then somehow he printed a kiss on her
cheek, and when she went back into
the keeping-room there was an appear
ance of moisture about her eyelashes.
81 never did see the beat, dear sussH'
she began. "All sorts of things are
happening. Content went and got shot,
and scarf me out of years growth :;
and now George Baker wants to per-
suade me to take him for a sun-in-law.
He's a likely young man, and has
mighty taking ways, and 1 guess, if the
truth was know, Contents heart has
been sot on him for a long time. She
looks so happy now with one arm in a
sling, that l would suppose if tother
was broke to she'd be in the seventh
| heaven. Sakes alivel l thought a
couple of hours ago we was more likely
to have funeral in the family this
Thanksgiving than wedding. Things
do take the queerest turns, and here
I've been doctoring Content for a
month back with foneset and camo-
mile tea, and after all there was nothing g
the matter but George Baker; 1 mis-
| trusted she favored him, but law now
a-days you never can tell whether it's a
| girls liver or her heart that's affected"
"'Taint as it used to be in our time,
| Polly" said Uncle John, twirling his
big thumbs in the freight; " a young
man knew then how to court a girl
without shooting her. But times have
changed. Even Thanksgiving don't
seem IS it used to-"
L" Lawl young folks can pop the
question as handy as they ever could"
said Aunt Keziah, who was plump and
merry. al know when you asked me
John, you made a dreadful piece of
work. 1 thought you would never
stammer it out. You are growing an
old fogy, John; that's the reason you
think Thanksgiving is anything but
what it used to be-"
George Baker heard the merry voices
in the keeping-room laughing at Uncle
John. And Content watched him
steathily as he stirred the fire, and sent
a shower of sparks, like ruddy stars, up
the chimney.
"What did you think, Content, when
I left you last summer p said he at last.
| Contents heart beat thick and the
! sound seemed to fill her ears, and just
then the fire light fell and left her in
| shadow.
| " l thought you had growa tir ed of
me-" she said family, Cor liked Jane
Shaw or Mary Davenport better, per-
haps," and then her voice faded quite
out. But Georges came in to fill the
silence, strong, impassioned, and true.
1t thrilled Content to the very center of
her being.
"I left you because I loved you," he
said. 81 thought I was too poor to
marry with only an education, my head
and hands to make way in life. l
would not hamper you with a promise.
1 hoped your liking for me had not
gone far enough to make you miserable.
So left you deliberately, though it al:
most broke my heart. Ever since l
have been wretched; and to-day l took
my gun, and came into the woods just
to look down from the hill at the house
that held you, and after you were hurt,
and l, filed with remorse, took you in
my arms, with your heart fiuttering
against mine like wounded dove, l felt
that you loved me, that we belonged to
each other, and l vowed that neither
poverty, pain, or death should kee r us
apart. Content, 1 will work for you
like your very hearts slave"
go George, do you think 1 care,'
cried Content. Il am selfish girl. ]
love my ease; but 1 would sooner live
with you in hut than with any one
else in palace"
with the freight that the two figures
| hn Ifc
fair, ure face was suddenly eclipsed.
"George," said she at last. al will
tell you why went to the woods this
afternoon. was unhappy and almost
desperate felt hard and wicked. II
seemed to me, if must be always sepa
rated from you, demmed to grow old
and wither up alone, there was nothing
on earth to be grateful for. Thanks
giving was kind of mockery. 1 was
sick and tired of everything, and wher
J 1 overheard my mother engaging the
} parson to talk and pray with me, l grew
desperate and thought 1 would rur
} away; and so 1 slipped out of the back
door and ran up the hill, not caring
, where Invent"
!, "Dear little heart" said George, with
the tears rushing into his eyes, big fellow
as he was: 81 ought to be terribly
J punished for making you suffer So"
Don't speak of that, George" sale
Content softly. "We will never think
: of it again. Why, am just beginnin!
to realize how dreadful it was for me,
: strong, healthy girl, to feel so rebellion
} and ungrateful. Now my arm i
} wounded, and 1 am o so happy. D,
you know, have fancy that l shoulC
) like to have everybody, all the worlt
} over, call this Contents Thanksgiving
An EnOch Arden who Stayed.