The Lake County star. [volume] (Chase, Mich.) 1873-current, 1874-05-14
CORA'S DELUSION.

CORA's DELUsION.
Cora Depeyster pined for prince.
Not common prince, like the snuffy
old Russian we used to see on Broadway
wearing a greasy fur-collar and long over
coat, eating garlic and drinking brandy
three times diurnally, and growing a
every thing American in the most detest
able English. Nothing of the kind.
She pined for prince such as we reat
about in the fine old sentimental novels
that amused our fathers and mothers il
the flower of their youth: Thaddeus o.
Warsaw, all talent, and pallor, and ten
derness, and musical voice, and fine, roll
ing eyes, and pedigree, and that sort o.
thing
For my part, I don't believe in such
princes The Prince of Wales is mt one
of that species, and ! IN afraid the breed
has gone out with the fine old sentimental
novels. Nothing else, however, would
suit Miss Cora Depeyster. Being not to.
tally unlike other fair damsels Of twenty
or thereabouts, she desired to experiment
upon the state matrimonial, and had
plenty of opportunities, but common clay
would not do. A prince she must have
or single she would remain.
Now, real good writer of sentimental
stories could create such being especially
for the emergency, and, after the Gus
tomary amount of tantalization through
the medium of an obstinate parent or
what not, marry off Miss Cora and her
prince in the most satisfactory style.
But l never was good at sentimental
creation. must write about people l
know and see. am sorry for the Coras.
we seen lots of them but what sort of
princes did they marry? One now pours
tea for sharp-nosed, red-headed life-in-
surance agent. Another is the spouse of
a strapping farmer, who sits with his hat
on and eats in his shirt-sleeves. Another
welded a subdued German who plays
second clarionet in cheap orchestra, and
has to move monthly because he can t
pay his rent. Still another-but the cat
alogue grows melancholy. Thus with
all the Coras. They go on pining for
princes who never come; marrying all
sorts of people instead and, dying, give
way to fresh race Of Coras, who follow
In their mammals footsteps with disre-
gard of experience that savors of the
sublime.
One of the sweetest of watering-p places
is Happy Valley. 1t is romantic and
comfortable at once. There is delightful
bathing, rowing, sailing and fishing in the
lake itself, and the shady groves that line
its shores are cool and green and mystic
rious, and suggestive of dryads and
nymphs and fairies and things. That is,
if you happen to be of poetic turn of
mind. If not, they only suggest firta-
tions.
will not further expatiate upon the
delights of Happy Valley, lest it should
be fancied that l have lots for sale in the
vicinity, whereas have none anywhere
not even burial lot; and that, believe,
is the common lot of all. Neither did
Cora Depeyster have any real estate to
dispose Of, but she thought just as do, and
passed much of the time every summer
in the fair demesnes that lie smilingly
adjacent to the Happy Valley Pavilion.
Notwithstanding the round Of pleas
ures in which she every summer took
prominent part, she could not stife her
inward and continuous yearning for the
music of princely voice, the glance of
devotion from princely eyes, the touch of
q princely hand in the dance, and the
sweet envy of all maidens who had to 90
princeless through life. She sighed
great deal, and began to think the great
world cold, hard, unromantic sort of an
arrangement.
Of course, you and / know better. /
never wrote romance yet half 80 Won
derful as the simplest life would make
were it truly told. The only trouble is
that the simplest life cannot be truly
told. 1t seems easy, but you try it once.
Though there was no prince among the
Pavilion boarders, there was poet.
Arthur Bayne was there. 1t is barely
possible that Cora might have fallen in
love with him there is something very
fine and hyfalutin-pardon the express
ion-in young lady's idea of poet.
But then Arthur Bayne was altogether
different from her ideal. He knew the
world too we'll to believe in its hollowness.
He had found it in fact very round.
hard, and stubborn sort of thing. 1
notice that men who have really been
shaken up bit in the merry-go-round
we call life, are not apt to preserve the
great extent. We all start off, some time
or another, with our long hair, our turn
down collars, our sable suits, our brigand
hats, and our little hidden sorrows; but
when we have cut our eye-teeth, and
learned something about other folks
troubles, we always come back to reason,
to plaid neckties, to stove-pipe hats, and
the barber.
Arthur was too matter of fact for Cora
and she too sentimental for him from any
hymeneal point Of view, yet they some
how became very excellent and very in
innate friends One evening they sat on
the shore of the little lake together. Cora
was gazing at the moon, of course. She
was one of that kind She had been
telling Arthur what kind Of hero she
had imagined for her heart-history, and
described the prince with his melting
eyes and musical voice, his generous ma
ture and magnificent air, his mild melan-
choly and inexhaustible affection, his
irreproachable morals and aristocratic
birth. Arthur listened with due gravity
until she had finished.
Why don't you take me ?" he asked.
am not very rich, but then poverty Is
romantic. ] can 7 play the guitar, but /
know fellow who is splendid on the
banjo. As for fine antique family. nv
father was Mr.. Bayne, son of Old Bayns
i believe he never went to state prison.
Now, Arthur, you are too bad You
make fun Of every thing"
"Well, TO be serious child, you'll new
er find your prince"
"And why notT'