Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1872-03-15

from her yet. have much to say, and
| will do her no injury"
I" 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-" g
George somehow got hold of the old
lady's hand and squeezed it hard, and
then somehow he printed kiss on her
cheek, and when she went back into
the keeping room there was an appear
ance OF moisture about her eyelashes.
~ never did see the beat, dear suss p
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 takeShim for a sun-in-law.
He's likely young man, and has
mighty taking ways, and [ 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 alive! I thought a
couple of hours ago we was more likely
to have a 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
the matter but George Baker; I 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 fre-light; 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-"
"Law young folks can pop the
question as handy as they ever could"
said Aunt Keziah, who was plump and
merry. 81 know when you asked me
to have you fve-and-twenty years ago,
John, you made dreadful piece of
work. [ thought you would never
stammer it out. You are growing an
old fogy, John; that's the reason you
think Thanksgiving is anything but
WnaU III uS6Q 10 D0.
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
shower of sparks, like ruddy stars, up
the chimney.
"What did you think, Content, when
| left you last summer ?" 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.
thought you had grown tire ed of
me,n 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.
It thrilled Content to the very center of
her being.
81 left you because loved you," he
said. ~ thought l was too poor to
marry with only an education, my head
and hands to make way in life. [
would not hamper you with promise.
I 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 [
have been wretched; and to-day 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 auttering
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 us
apart. Content, [ will work for you
like your very hearts slave"
go George, do you think I care"
cried Content. 81 am a selfish girl. I
love my ease; but [ would sooner live
with you in hut than with any one
else in palace"
The shadows flickered and mixed so
with the freight that the two figures
seemed as one; and the young girls
fair, :ure face was suddenly eclipsed.
George" said she at last. II will
tell you why went to the woods this
afternoon. | was unhappy and almost
desperate felt hard and wicked. 1t
seemed to me, if I must be always sepa-
rated from you, demmed to grow old
and wither up alone, there was nothing
on earth TO &c grateful for. Thanks
giving was kind of mockery. l was
sick and tired of everything, and when
I overheard my mother engaging the
parson to talk and pray with me, grew
desperate and thought I would run
away and so I slipped out of the back
door and ran up the hill, not caring
where [ went"
"Dear little heart" said George, with
the tears rushing into his eyes, big fellow
as he was: ~ ought to be terribly
punished for making you suffer so."
"Don't speak of that, George" said
Content softly. awe will never think
of it again. Why, | am just beginning
to realize how dreadful it was for me,
strong, healthy girl, to feel SO rebellious
and ungrateful. Now my arm is
wounded, and I am O SO happy. Do
you know, have fancy that should
like to have everybody, all the world
over, call this Contents Thanksgiving"