The weekly Panola star. [volume] (Panola, Miss.) 1857-1881, 1872-08-03
WANTED--.A NAN.
nv Miss e.. Y. MAITLAND.

Bessie, gaiIy, as she held the ponies
well in hand in her pretty rhaeton ;
for | think if | could thus find out
specimen, It would possess n Ger
tain value rs a curiosity. | think
the men must all have died with our
grandmothers. There are plenty Of
popniays left us-monkeys of fash
ion, etc.,-but nothing could really
call man."
take care, Bessie laughed her
friend, who was seated beside her
in the phaeton. "Your devoted
German admirer might think you
were advertising fora husband. But,
honestly, do you think we have no
men equal to those of the olden
time? | fanciel you found one ot
the creatures well enough-that Mr.,
Conway, for instance, who is staying
at the Grange
Bessie's face was as red ~ any
rose, as she stopped forward arrang-
ing the rcins; f; but, for all that, she
said, a little scorntully:
"As if such an accomplished car
pei-knight could be expected to be
anything more! lie can talk time
away fast enough; he can charge
down a ballroom to perfection in Il
galop; he can tlutter II fan at the end
OF dance so as really to give one a
breath of air--which last not one
man in ten can do, though they will
all attempt it. Nov, Madge, having
done all these things well, can you
possibly expect anything more Of
Mr.. Conway p
4" Yes, indeed, said Madg quite
graveIy; al do expect something
more; and, what is more to the pur-
pose, You expect something more.
Come, Bessie, you might as well
plead guilty, for I'm sure"
" But, instead of pleading guilty,
Bessie, her pretty face on fire, had
leaned forward, and given the oft
pony sharp cut with her whip in
her confasion What was she think.
ing of? The ponies had been
restive and mettlcsome enough be.
fore; now, how could she manage
them in the narrow road along the
hillside, down which they were
rushing like mad? And Bessie
knew well, though Madgc did not.
that the road ended in u bridge.
none of the safest, over the htlle
river which ran very deep beneath.
Bessie, Bessie, cannot we jump
out?-the phaeton is low"
Bessie glanced over her shoulder,
almost sternly, at her friend, while
she was leaning forward Tor a tirmer
grasp upon the reins.
"Sit still for your lite, Ma1ge If
you move, you'll be flung down the
hillside on the rocks"
And Madge sat still, holding on
to the phaeton with fast shut eyes,
and daring not SO much as to look
up once.
And, Bessie, with more terror at
her heart, because of more knowl-
edge Of the danger, never faltered,
but kept still her grasp upon the
reins. But what was that slight
strength OF hers against the mad
dened ponies? She could net hope
TO check them; she might keep them
still in the straight road, perhaps,
and -ah, here's the bridge! No
way of stopping-no way of turning
them. They are making straight
for it
Is there some one leaning on the
railing at the further end--some one
quietly dropping his fishing line
into the water?
But Bessie has no time to look,
for the ponies are upon the bridge
the slight structure is swayIng with
them---if they swerye to the right OF
left against the railing, all is lost.
| And Bessie's strength is worn ou,
now--sbe will not look upon the
watery death beneath her; she, too,
closes her eyes family.
When she opens them again, she
is lying on mossy pillow, on the
green slope on the other side Of the
bridge. She is looking up in Philip
Conway's blue eyes---tcnder and
true-while Madge, upon her knees
beside her, chafes her hands and
sprinkles water in her face.
When Bessie is quite recovered
from her swoon, and Philip Conway
had gone out of earshort, to bring up
the ponies, who are humbly hanging
their heads now, conscious Of theiI
defeat, Madge says maliciously Ia
Bessie, who is knotting up the
curly masses Of her auburn hair un.
der her hat:
II think you've found the mai
now, Bessie, and you needn't ad
vsrtisc. | thought a dozen times
he'd be trampled down under those
ponies hoois; and, indeed, it seemed
like Ainging away bis life when h