Nashville union and American. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1868-1875, 1873-04-06


She might nave carriage, too, and a pair
of ponies. And liked Ailly, and wouldn't
j have envied her luck one bit, and didn't.
wonder at Mrs. More and Fanny.
| EOnce having given me her confidence
Milly didn's stop, and Mrs. More came
over to talk about It, too, until at last fair
~ up and sided with the old lady myself.
"Milly," said |, "Will is gone and you
aren't his widow to wear weeds all your
life-not that many do, If they can help it,
it seems to 1ne-and Capt kincaid is as
| good as mar can be, and you'll be happy
| with him. You can't help loving him as
much as there's any need to love-"
After that she stopped talking much TO
me. She used to give me strange looks,
though. I knew all about It. knew:that
her heart was in the sea; but Will was
gone, and why should she refuse what
| Providence offered?
The Captain stayed at the Port three
months, and ct last we worried her into
| promising to be his wife-old Mrs. More,
Fanny and |. She just gave up at last.
| at don't matter much, after ALL" she
said. 81 must be going out of my mind, for
never can stop watching and waiting. l
shall die soon, suppose, whether marry
or not"
8 After that she never spoke of VIII, and
Mrs. Moore told me she was engaged; and
she wore diamond ring on her finger!
And the day before the ship sailed she was
to marry Capt. Kincaid, so she might go to
| Europe with him. -s-s
| year and three months since the Golden
| Dove went down. Well, no one can tell
what changes little while will bring. 1
used to hope that hadn't much hand in it,
after all, when thought it over, and re-
membered poor VIII when he took her
] u bis arms under the sycamore.
| But then, you see, Mrs. More's sight had
failed, so that she couldn't do fine sewing,
and Fanny wasn't Of much account, except
| to look at. II was hard life that lay be-
/ fore Milly. 1t was good for her to marry
| Capt. Kincaid and have rest and comfort,
wasn't 1t?
Tomorrow is the wedding" said to
Job. sits going to be in the church. Miss
Salisbury is finishing my silver gray poplin.
1t sets splendid. Well have Ben Barnes
in to keep store, and go, won't we? You'll
like to see Milly of, won't your"
81 wish it was Will Masset," said Job.
"Poor WHIP says !, and went on tidying,
though it was Friday, should be so busy
next day. l got out my big paper OF sugar,
and ] got down my japanned sugar box,
never empty yet since that day filled it
up. And then Job sorting the letters, looks
up at times.
"Never begrudged you anything so much
as do that box" says he.
"Best thing | ever put mail into. This
here wooden thing with slide is pesky
bother"
"Law mel" says I, off 1 knowed you
wanted it you should have had it. didn't
think you had any plan in it; jest stick 'em
anywhere, thought you would. I'll empty
the box; I've got one that'll do. And Pm
glad you spoke before filed it up"
So with that spread big paper on the
counter and emptied out the sugar.
1t had packed little, and came out in a
sort of cake. There it laid, white and
shiny, and on the top of it, white and shin
| Ter, laid letter-a letter with ship mark
upon it, and this superscription:
"MIss MILLY MORE,
! ... "Anchor Port, Maine,
Omitted States of America"
Three months ago-poor stupid-I had
emptied my best coffee crushed in upon it.,
and there it was.
Three months ago she had come down to
me and asked for a letter, and I'd thought
her half crazy; and I'd given more money
| than there was in the till TO have dared to
| tear that letter open on the spot and read
it, though knew the hand was Will Mas
| sett's.
"This can't wait, says l.
"No," says Job, G'it can't with that we'd
| ing coming off tomorrow"
Then stopped and although. Let it lie
until it is called for, and she'll be Mrs.
Capt. Kincaid, with her silks and her vel
| vet, and her fine house and her carriage, all
the same. This comes from shipwrecked
sailor, poorer now than when he went
away.
"Perhaps I'd better wait until the we'd
ding is over, job" said l.
And my old man came across the room
and put bis arm around my waist.
"Nancy," says he, "you and | was young
folks once. used to think something was
better than money and fine doings then.
And though We old folks may get 3 little
basd--though to be up in the world seems
80 much and all that sweetness so silly,
why, it will come back sometimes. You
remember how be kissed her there under
the sycamore, and, Nancy, We couldn't
wait until after tia wedding, either Of u.s.
/ put my arms around Jobs neck, and
kissed him; and then l got my sun bonnet
and ran over to Mrs. More's.
Capt. Kincaid was there. stood at the
door, with the letter behind my back.
"Won't you walk in?" says Mrs. More.
ell haven't time, says l. "It's only
an errand. It's little singular. Milly,
there's IA ....-...
"MY letter! my letter." cried Milly, sit
has come at lastI'
How she knew it, heaven knows. She
hadn't had a glimpse of it.
1t was the old sailors story, shipwreck,
deserted island, wretched months spent
in hoping for succor and a sail at last. A
vessel outward bound had picked him up.
He would be home in three months.
"Three months!" said Milly. "Oh, can
1 waltz"
And then says T.
emily, forgive poor old stupid goose.
This letter has been lying under my best
crushed coffee three months and day.
And there's a vessel in the otfing now"
so it was Will, after all, and Job and |
went to the we iding with happy hearts.
And no need to pity Captain Kincaid
either, for he married Fanny More before
the year was out.
! A WANDERING Snowman in Indiana
found the ugliest and most misshappen