Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1874-10-13
NO. 237.
DEATH OR MARRIAGE.

the hour OF nine. 1t was no smart TOW no
trifie of bronze or alabaster, but a tall,
square, solid relic of the last century.
looking not unlike coffin case set on end,
in the corner-a clock that had
lasted through four generations, and judg-
ing from appearances was quite likely to
last through several more. Deacon Sher-
rner cherished the old heirloom with
sort OF pride which he himself would
scarcely have confessed to.
1here was great, ruddy fire of chest
nut logs in the red brick paved fire place;
and the candles in the brightly polished
brass sticks were winking merrily from
the high wooden mantel, where they
| shared the post of honor with curious
sea she'll and a couple of vases, each con-
tanning a fresh Usage orange, from the
hedge that skirted the clover field behind
the barn. At the window, curtain of
gaudy chintz shut out the tens of thou
sands Of stars that were shining brightly
on that frosty autumnal night and on the
cosy rug of the parti-colored rags fat
tortoise-shell cat purred away the slowly
lapsing minutes. But the tortoise.sh
cat was not the only inhabitant Of the snug
farm house kitchen. -
Timothy !" said Mary Shermer, decid-
edly, eff you don't behave yourself,
I'll"
What she would do, Mary did not say;
the sentence was terminated by laugh
that set the dimples round her mouth in
motion, just as a beam of June sunshine
plays across a cluster of red-ripe cherries.
Mary Shermer was just la plump,
rosy girl, with jet hair, brushed back from
a low forehead, and perfectly arched eye
brows, that gave bewitching expression
of surprise to pair Of hazel eyes. She
was rather dark but the severe critic
would not have found fault with the
peach-like bloom upon her cheeks and the
dewy red of her full. daintily y-curved lips.
Evidently Mr.. Timothy Marshall was quite
satisfied with Mary's style of beauty.
Come, Mary" said Tim, moving his
chair where he could best watch the flush
Of the freight upon her face, and picking
up the thread of the. conversation where
he had dropped it when it became neces-
sary for Mary to bid him ..behave him
self'-'you might promise. It's nine
O'Clock. and your father viii soon be
home"
"What. Tim ?" said Mary, deruurely,
fitting square of red in her patchwork.
and intently observing the fact.
Nonsense. Mary! You know what
very well. Promise to marry me before
Christmas tell you what, Mary. it is
all very well for you to keep putting it of,
but | can't stand it, What with your
fathers forbidding me in the house and
that romantic Tom SANKEY'S coming here
every Sunday night-"
Mary gave her pretty head toss. las
if Mr.. Stanley's coming here made any
difference in my feelings, Tint"
"No; but Mary, it isn't pleasant. you
know. I'm as good man as Tom Stan
ley, if l don't own railroad shares and
keep an account at the HamiltonviIle
bank; and love you, Mary. from the
very bottom of my heart! Now this mat
ter lies between you and me only; no
other person in the world has q right to
Interfere between us. Come-prOmise
me-" He held both her hands in his and
looked earnestly into the liquid-hazel
eyes.
do you love me, Maryp"
You know love you, Tim"
Then we may just as well
Hush what's that?"
There was portentous sound of draw
ing bolts and rafting latches in the porch
room beyond-a scraping of heavy boots
along the floor. Mary rose to her feet
with sudden scarlet suffusion on her brow
and cheeks.
"Oh, Tim, it is fatherr'
"Suppose it isl"
but he mustn't find you here, Tim!
Hide yourself somewhere. dO!'
"What nonsense. Mary! !" said the young
man resolutely standing his ground. II
haven't come to steal his spoons. Why
should creep away like detected bur-
glar?"
For my sake, Tim. Oh, Tim. if you
ever loved me. do l say! Not in the clos
ct; it is close to his bedroom not through
that window it is nailed down tight. He's
coming he's coming Here, Tim, quickr'
And in the drawing OF breath, she had
pushed Timothy Marshall into the square
pendulum case of the old clock and turned
the key on him. 1t was not pleasant
place of refuge, inasmuch as his shoulders
were squeezed on either side and his
head fiattened against springs and wheels
above and the air was unpleasant and
close; but Tim made the best of matters.
and shook with suppressed laughter in his
solitary prison cell.
"Well a jolly scrape to be in, Thought
Tim, land no knowing when I'll be out Of
II. 4hat > q HiCWu HttiC PuSS, HOWCFCIy
and can't do better than to leave matters
in her hands"
80 you havn't gone to bed yet, Mary?"
said Deacon Shermer, slowly unwinding
the two yards of woolen scarf with which
he generally dressed his throat Of an
evening. Not yet, father, picking up her
scattered bits of patchwork with glow
ing cheek. "Did you have pleasant
meeting?'
"Well. yes," quoth the Deacon. reHec-
lively, sitting down before the fire greatly
to Mary's sconsternation-she had hoped he
would have gone to bed at once, accord
ing to his usual custom-''it was torbly
pleasant. Elder Huskier was there. and
Elder Hopkins-and-well, all the church
folks pretty much. Why, how red your
cheeks are, Mary! Tired, amt you?
Well You needn't sit up for me. my dear;
it must be getting late" as
1.-The Deacon glanced mechanically up
to the clock. Mary felt the blood grow
ing cold in her veins. Twenty minutes
past nine-why, it must be later than that !