Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1874-05-16

HC SOuiO Slls anu SStSu IuOT0 ike
5 MIN, on three-cent piece. Finally,
, one day, under some provocation, he
told her about the lost letters.
"You oughtn't to have told me
that, Abner," she said. "You ought
not to have told me. l can never
: forgive you"
She never did; always after there
seemed to be something separating
them; cold and hard and as transpa
. rent as ice, until at last they agreed
TO live apart; and so they did until
the death of Mr.. Stanton. Now she
: was living surrounded by her chill
dren and grand children, happy and
comf )rtable.
Mother brought down thus the sto-
ry of Augusta's life, while Mr.. Av-
Grill listened, eager and excited.
When she had finished he knocked
the ashes from his pipe, and starting
up, began to walk the floor.
81 will start for Portland to-mor-
row morning and see what Augusta
will have to say to me. am of the
same mind always was. I've never
hankered for moment after any
other woman, and l am as read Y to
marry her to-day as ever was.
So the next day saw him on the
Portland train, gray with years, but
youthful with expectation.
This time he did not waste his OPP
portuIIity by waiting to make him
self fine, but with the grim and dust
of travel yet upon him, he went di
rectly to the house of AugusIa's
daughter, with whom she is living.
"Where is Mrs Stanton? l want to
see her right away" said he, as soon
as the door was opened.
"You will find her here; walk in
if you please" replied the house
maid, throwing open the door OF the
sitting-roOm.
Mr.. Averill stepped quickly for
ward. Yes, there she sat, stitching
away as before on some kind of prim-
rose colored stuff, with her eyes as
black and bright as ever. But the
primroses were faded in her cheeks,
and she wore cap on her head.
81 have come for you, agaiu, Au-
gusra-am | too late this timer" cried |
the impatient lover.
The roses came back to her cheeks
and the red hot arrows shot out of |
her eyes once more.
"BlesS us! If it isn't Sam Averill,
nose and allr' she said, holding up
her hands.
From twenty to fifty is but as a
watch in the night, when the years
are past; and it is only when an old
lady mods triumphantly at you from
the loOking-glass, saying, "Here
am, my dear!" or when children that
you have nursed in your arms come
around with the rights and duties of
full grown men and women, that you
remember that one is no longer
young at fifty. But the sight of
Sam Averill'S gray hairs and wrinkles
were as good as looking-glass to
remind Augusta.
"Sit down, Sam," said she, "and
let ME look at you. 1t seems like the
real old times to see you once more.
You look wonderful natural but dear
me, how you have changed! You've
grown old as well as myself"
But Mr.. Averill was not to be di-
verted by any side issues.
"Augusta," said he, earnestly, 81
made a serious mistake once. 1t WAS
not a mistake about my own mind,
however; that remains the same as it
always was. Every woman Pve ever
seen seemed like a tallow candle be-
side the sun when think of you. l
have made my fortune, and all
want now is you to come and share
it with me. 1t is you, or nobody
just as it always was"
Maybe Aunt Augusta's heart
throbbed little with the old yearll-
ing toward the love of her youth,
but she shook her head with unhesi-
tating derision, as she put out her
hand to stir the cradle, where her
Youngest grand child lay asleep.
at can never be, SAM" she said.
81 won't deny it was all a mistake
my marrying Stanton. He didn't
turn out to he the man l took him
for. He proved contrary and ornery,
and besides he wrote letters in dis
guise. But that is all over and past
and can't be undone. And now am
in the midst of my children, with my
grand children growing up about
me, and lam in my right place.
should not be cOntented to leave ev-
erything and go off to a new country
to begin the world over again, as it
were. | am too old an oak to be
transplanted. ...
Well, after that Mr.. Averili might
have talked till he was at the age of
Methuselah, Augusta had made up
her mind and an earthquake couldn't
shake it. ...-.-... ...r.
So Mr.. Averill went away alone.
"Well, Mary, Augusta won't have
word to say to me, sail he walk
ing in upon mother and me, as we
sat at supper few evenings after,
"not word" -----
81 want to know if that is So"
cried mother, futteripg up after an
other plate and knife. clay your
overcoat right off aud sit right by
and have cup of tea with us. Au- ;
gusta was always decided, and yon
couldn't turn her after she got her
mind fixed. She wouldn't keep you
waiting long for your answer, eitner' ,
Well, it's likely it is for the best, we :
will hope So" pursued mother reach :
ing over to put an extra lump OF su- .
Gar in Mr.. Averill's cup, as though
to sweeten life, if possible, for him.
at serves me right in taking it for
Granted that she understood my in
fentions. | must have been an in
consider,tte, self-cpnceited fool. But l
L :, ems hard that a body can't work l
his way out of blunder in whole
lifetime" -
Mother looked full of sympathy,
and dropped another lump of sugar
in Mn Averill's cup. To my aston
he Sonr,,ol Il - |