The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1874-02-28
THE young SQUIRE.

which was purchased some years ago,
by young gentleman Of large fortune,
whom we shall call Mr.. Warner.
Mr.. Warner had seen SO much of the
world that he was by no means inclined
to follow the general pursuits of men.
The scenes of dissipation winch oxford
exhibited had driven him thence with
kind of disgust, and he sought re-
treat in the country, where he might
live contented with himself and in har
mony with those around him.
One afternoon during the first har-
vest of his being there, he observed a
girl. about eighteen years Of age, COM
ing in at the gate of the field with
small basket IN her hand. He went to
meet her, fancying her business was
with him and as he drew near her he
was astonished with her beauty and
modesty. She blushed and curtseyed
and when he asked where she was go
ing, she told him to her father, who
was IN the field, and to whom she was
carving some refreshment. Many
questions followed, III answer to which
| Mr.. Warner learned that Der father,
whose name was Jones, had once pos
sessed lands amounting to goo year,
| but that losses, misfortunes, and other
accidents, had fallen heavily upon him,
and obliged him to rent little cottage
on Mr.. Warmers manor.
On returning home, the thoughts of
| Mr.. Warner were engrCssed with the
fair Mary Jones. From his housekeep-
er, Mrs. Groves, he learned that she
had been educated at a genteel board
ing school; and that, during her faith
er's prosperity, many young farmers
and other gentlemen had paid their
addresses to her; but that, on a change
| of his condition, some of them forsook
! her-which conduct she met with the
utmost fortitude.
| This was sufficient for Mr. Warner.
1t riveted his affections, and he deter
mined to make proposals ia her father.
In his interview with him, he said: % I
have sent for you. Mr.. Jones, to ask
your opinion in an affair of some i'm
portance-"
" Anything that l can do, sir !"
" Nay l ask it Of you-not as a
servant, but as a friend. You have a
daughter, Mr. Jones %
81 have, sir. F"
"That daughter [ yesterday con-
versed with and [ confess to you that
she made a very strong impression
upon me 7 am not used to ceremony,
and shall therefore tell you plainly that
| have no motive but the qualification
of an honorable affection and if your
daughter can think me worthy of being
her husband, shall think myself made
happy by her acceptance OF me.
8 Sir, forgive me-she IS poor, and
unworthy your attention you cannot
mean it-indeed you cannot
A" know she has not riches to recon-
mend her; but she mas virtues that
would add grace to nobility"
The good man shed tear Of thank
fuiness, but it was followed by another
of concern.
81 am afraid, he said, "to tell you
of her situation, but I know she never
will be yours. But [ will send her in
to you, and you will perhaps learn il
from herself"
He then went into another room, and
soon Mary came out, pale, trembling
and detected. Mr.. Warner endeavored
to remove her fears by telling her he
came to ask nothing but what she
might reasonably answer He then
repeated his offer. Mary heard him
with attention, and then made this re.
ply:
GAS I have no doubt, sir of the sin
cerlty OF your declarations, I am the
more concerned that am not able to
accept them and If the opinion of
the neighborhood be true, that your
humanity is equal to your station, YOU
will not be offended with me if I ex-
plain to You my present situation.
When my parents were in prosperity.
there were many Young men of the
neighbOrhood-and some were superior
to me IN life--who were pleased to
! flatter me for what they termed nv
| beauty, and to declare their affection
for me. [ had then no inclination to
leave my parents, and was too young to
enter the world. [ therefore begged
them to desist from their proposals.
| There was one, however, whose return
L could almost lave wished: yet I
suffered him to go"
Excuse my Interruption, said Mr..
Warner; "may I beg to know his
name -
6 1t is young Murray, sir, the son of
| one of your tenants. He took me at
my word, and came no more; and T
endeavored to forget him. About this
time my fathers affairs took an un-
favorable turn; he disposed of his
farm and retired to his COTTAGE. The
insincerity of mems protestations now
became sufficiently evident TO me. and
L learnt a severe but an Instructive
lesson. Some months passed in q state
OF uneaslness; when, one day, as /
was walking towards the valley hv the
waterslde, l met poor Murray, whom T
had not seen but at distance since 7
refused his addresses. At first he
would have avoided me, but seeming
to recollect himself lie came to me,
Some Indifferent conversation passed.
when he renewed his former subject.
and addressed me in terms which / be-
lleve | shall never forget.
You must excuse me, Mary said
he, If / now begin subject which Won
once forbade me to think of. | have
told you IN the most serious and SOL
emn manner how much | esteem and
love you; and though you have once
rejected the offer | would make you. [
cannot be happy without again repeat
ing it. The situation of the affairs of
your family has given me much anx-
lety; and, Heaven knows, had
it been in my power, l would have
eased you of every burden. But [ am
not favorite of fortune, and all that [
can now offer you is an honest, faithful |.
heart, that will leave nothing untried /
that may make you happy
Much conversation of this kind he .
went on with. l confess I listened to