The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1874-04-23
DEATH OR MARRIAGE! /!

The ancient clock in Deacon SheF-
mer's old-fashioned kitchen was slow
ly Ginning the hour of nine. It was
no smart toy, no trifie of bronze or
Iaiabaster, but 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, judging from ap-
bpearances, was quite likely to last
several more. Deacon Shermer cher
ished the old heirloom with a sort of
pride which he himself wOnld scarce
ly have confessed to.
L There was great, ruddy fire of
chestnut logs in the red brick-paved
Fireplace; and the candles in the
brightly polished brass sticks were
Winking merrily from the high wood
en- mantle, where they shared the post
of honor with curious sea-shelI and
couple of vases, each containing a
fresh Usage orange from the hedge that
skirted the clover field behind the
barn. At the window a curtain of
gaudy chintz shut out the tens of
thousands of stars that were shining
brightly on that frosty autumnal night,
and on the cosy rug of colored rags a
fat tortoise shell cat purred away the
toise shell cat was uot the only lnhab-
liant of the snug farmhouse kitchen.
eeTimothy !" said Mary Shermer, de-
cidedly, 'sif you don't behave your
self l will"
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 beam of
June sunshine plays across a cluster
of red-rlpe cherries.
! Mary shermer was just seventeen
a plump, rosy girl, with jet black hair
! brushed back from low forehead,
and perfectly arched eyebrows, that
/ gave bewitching expression of sur
prise to pair of melting hazel eyes.
She was rather dark but the severest
critic would not have found fault with
the peach-like bloom upon her cheeks
and the dewy red of her full dainty
i curved fps. Evidently Mr.. Timothy
1 Marshall was quite satisfied with
I Mary's peculiar style of beauty.
"Come Mary" said Tim. moving his
chair where he could best watch the
flush of the fire-light upon her face,
and picked up the thread of the con-
versation. where he had dropped it
when it became necessary for Mary to
bid him " behave himself" you
might promise. It's nine O'Clock and
your father will soon be at home.
II "Promise what, Tim ?" said Mary
ldemurely. fitting a square of red in
her patehw ork, and lntently observing
the effect.
"Nonsense, Maryl You know what
very well. Promise to marry me be-
fore ChristmasI tell you what,
Mary, it's all very well for you to
/ keep putting a fellow of, but | can't
stand it.-What, with your father for
bidding me the house, and that roman
tic. Tom Stanley coming here, every
Sunday night"
Mary gave her pretty head a toss.
sAs if Mr.. Stanley coming here made
any difference with my feelings, Tim. +"
i mo; but Mary, it isn't pleasant,
YOU know. I'm as good a man as
Tom Stanley, if don't own railroad
shares and keep an account at Hamil-
I-4enpilIe Bank and--lnUa Ynn. Marx,
from the very bottom of my heart -
Now this matter lies between you and
me only no other person in the world
has right to interfere between u.s.
Come-promise mep He held both
her hands in his and looked earnestly
into the liquid hazel eyes.
Z" Do you love me, Mary?"
4 s.sYOu know / love yOu, TiM.."
"Then we may just as well-hush
what's that ~
There was a portentious sound ol
drawing bolts and latches in the porch
d room beyond--a seraping of heavy
boots alsng the floor. Mary rose to
J her feet, with sudden scarlet sullus-
ing brow and cheeks.
) "Oh, Tim, it's fatherl"
Suppose it isl"
I but he must not find you here