Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1873-11-21
THE RIGHT KIND OF A WIFE.


THE RIGHT KIND OF A WIFE.
I had Just returned from two years in
Europe, and was saunterlng down Ire
mont street in the golden September morn
ing when I saw my old friend Tom Foster
eet out of a horse car few steps in adj
vance of me. I knew rim i'll a moment,
though we had hardly met since we were
at the Exeter Academy together, then years
before room-mates and blithe companions
until we parted go to Harvard, and be
TO enter his fathers store, the well-knoWn
house of Foster & Co., Pearl street. He
was a merry, hearty, practical fellow,
clear-skinned and robust as an English
man, self-reliant and entersrlsing as New
Hampshire birth and Boston training
could make him. / always liked him but
he plunged into business and | into study,
and so, without meaning it, we had almost
lost sight Of each other. He was an only
child his parents spent their sum
mers at their homestead in Greenland,
near Portsmouth, and their winters in
Boston.
AS said, I knew him in a moment
He had grown tall and stout, but the boy
was still in his face, and, with a flush OF
early feeling, I sprang forward and caught
him by the arm.
s'Tom, how are you ~
He looked puzzled for a moment, and
then bursting into a laugh, he seized my
hand in his grasp, and exclsimed:
''Why. John Ralston Is this you
Where did you come from I'm SO glad to
see YOU, my boy. Why I havn't set eyes
on YOU since we made the trip to Nahant
in your Freshman year. The truth is,
father was SO poorly for long time then
that [ had everything to see to, and felt as
if the world was on my shoulders-I did
hear, though about your college honors
and your going to Germany, and I've Of
ten thought of you lately, and wished to
see you. Why, Jack, in spite ofmy weight
and you beard and broad shoulders, |
can't realize that ten years have gone since
we were at Exeter together. We must
talk over old times and now. When did
you get back, and what are your plans ~
IT came back yesterday, and shall stay
in the city, on account of a business mat
ter, until next Tuesday Then [ am going
home"
ssWell, now, this is Saturday, and you
can do nothing after 2 O'Clock. Come and
spend Sunday with me in the country. [
want to show you my wife,
sEYour wife are you married, Tom -
ssMarried nearly a year," said he with a
smile.
''You don't look very sole mn over it,
''Solemn ! It's the jolliest thing | ever
did in my life. Meet me at the Eastern
depot at O'Clock, and III tell you all
about it on the way down."
We parted at the Winter street corner
he to his store, and / to the Parker
House.
GLOW handsome Boston has grown y
said |, glancing at the fine buildings and
the Common, beautiful in the September
sun.
1--WE think it nice town." he replied,
speaking with the moderate words and the
perfect assurance of the Bostonian, to
whom his city is the sum of all excellence
and delight. Remember, four O'Clock. y
And he disappeared in the crowd.
EeTom married pr said to myself, as |
walked along, II dare say its to his faith
er's pretty ward, Clara Maitland, whom
saw when I spent the day there eleven
wears ago. I remember what long curls
She had. and how fond she seemed of
him.
Yes, dare say it's to Clara, l hope,
though, she hasn't grown for nothing but
to display the latest fashions, waltz a little
and torture the piano. Better some rosy,
sturdy German Grechen than a poor doll
like that. 1t would be shame for poor
Tom with his physique and vigorous brain
to be tied for life to such woman. And
then turning down School street, my
Thoughts wandered off to a blue-eyed girl [
had loved for many year-a girl who
was not satisfied with the small triumphs
of the croquet ground, but who could
send an arrow home to the mark, and
could climb the hills with me, her step
light and free as the deer's in the glades
below, and hold steady oar in our boat
on the river, and swim ashore, it need be !;
and then when our walk was over, could
sit down to lunch of cold meat and bread
and butter with an appetite as keen as
young Indians after days hunt yes,
and who knew how to be efficient in the
kitchen, and the rarest ornament OF the
parlor How impatient | was to see her,
have been proud to marry. And again l
said to myself as l went up the Parker
House steps, II do hope Tom hasn't
made fool Of himself" 900
Four O'Clock found me at the station I;
and moment later, in walked Tom, car
rying basket 6lledw Jersey peaches.
EsThey don't grow in Greenland" said
he, tucking the paper down over the fruit.
HCome this way" eH
'.Now for the story, Tom," said l, as
we crossed the bridge, and caught the
breeze cool lIOul CIlo SGd. blG Cet1 uCoo
beforehand, the girl you married. 1t was
Clara Maitland"
A shadow passed over Toms face.
seClara has been dead for four years, ~
said he. 'EShe inherited consumption from
her mother. We all did everything for her
took her to Minnesota and Florida, but
it was no use. She did not live to see her
eighteenth birthday"
..sPoor Clara She loved you dearly
Then I suppose you chose some Boston
girl of your acquaintance ?"
"Jack, you couldn't tell who Mrs. Tom
Foster was if you should try from now till
morning. I shall have to enlighteen you"
and moving the basket to one side and set
ting himself in his seat he went on:
sSYou know I have the misfortune to be
an only child After I was twenty-one,
father and mother began to talk about my
marrying. have plenty of cousins, you
know, and we always had young ladies go:
ing in and out of the house but while
Clara lived she was company enough fo1
me, and after she died I was full OF bust
ness and didn't trouble myself about mat
rimony. To tell the truth, Jack, didn't
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