Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1874-03-14
MARY MOORE.

All my lie nau known Mary Moore
all my life | had loved her.
Our mothers we're old playmates and
first cousins. My first recolloctions are
of boy, in red frock and morocco
shoes, rocking a cradle, in which re.
posed sunpy-haired, blue.eyed baby,
not quite a year old. That boy was
myself-Harry Church that baby was
Mary Moore.
Later still, | see myself at the old
school house, drawing my little cbaise
up to the door that Mary might ride
home. Many beating have I gained
on such occasions, for other boys be-
sides me liked her, and she, l fear, was
something of firt, even in her pima
fore. How elegantly she came tripping
down the steps when | called her name;
how sweetly her blue eyes looked at
me, how pailv rang ont her merry laugh
No one but Mary could ever bring her
heart 50 near her lips. I followed that
laugh from my days of childhood till I
grew an awkward, blushing youth
followed it through the heated noon of
manhood and now when the frosts Of
age are silvoring my hair, and many
children climb upon my knee and call
me " father" I find that the memories
of youth are strong, and that even in
gray hairs I'm following the music still.
When l was fifteen the first great sor-
row of my life came upon my breast. l
was sent to school, and was obliged to
part with Mary. We were not to see
each other for three long years. This
to me was like a sentence of death, for
Mary was like life itself to me. Bat
hearts are tough things after all.
| left college in all the flush Of my
nineteenth year l was no longer awk-
ward or embarrassed. had grown into
a tall, slender stripping, with very
good opinion of myself both in general
and particular. If I thought of Mary
Moore, it was to think how l could
dazzle and bewilder her with my good
looks and wonderful mental attainments,
and never thinking she might dazzie
and bewilder me still more. was a
coxcomb, know, but as youth and good
looks have fled, trust that | may be
believed when l say that self-conceit
has left me also.
An advantageous proposal was made
me at that time, and acceptingit it, Igave
up all idea of profession, and prepared
to go to India In my hurried visit
home Of two days 1 saw nothing of
Mary Moore. She had gone to board
ing-school at some distance, and was
not expected home until the following
May. I uttered sigh to the memory
of my little blue-eyed playmate, and
then called myself "a man" again.
In a year, l thought as the vehicle
whirled away from our door-I will re-
turn, and if Mary is as pretty as she
used to be, why then, perhaps may
marry her.
And thus 1 settled the future of n
Young lady whom had not seen for
four years. Inever thought Of the pos
sibility of her refusing me--never
dreamed that she would not condescend
to accept my offer.
But now 1 know that had Mary met
me then she would have despised me.
Perhaps in the scented and affected stu
dent she might have found plenty Of
sport but as for loving me, should
perhaps have found myself mistaken.
India was my salvation, not merely be-
cause of my success, but because my
laborious industry had counteracted the
evil in my nature, and had made me a
better man. When at the end of three
years, prepared to return, / said
nothing of the reformation of myself,
which knew had taken place. They
loved me as I was, l murmured to my
self, and they shall find out for them
selves whether | am better worth loving
than formerly.
Ipicked up many token from that,
and of romance and gold for the friends
hoped to meet. The gift for Mary
Moore l selected with a beating heart I;
it was ring of rough virgin gold, with
my name and hers engraved inside
that was all, and yet the sight of the
little toy strangely thrilled me as Ibal-
anced it on the tip of my finger.
To the eyes of others it was but a
small plain circle, suggesting thoughts,
perhaps, by its elegance, of the beauti-
iul white hand that was to wear it, But
not to mellow much was embodied
there-a'l these delights were hidden
within that little ring of gold.
Tall, bearded, and un-bronzed, |
knocked at my fathers house. The
light in the parlor window, and the
hum of conversation and cheerful laugh
ter, showed me that company was as
sembled there. l hoped that sister
Lizzie would come TO the door, and l
might greet my family when no strange
eye was looking carelessly on.
But no. a servant answered my sum-
mons. They were too merry in the par
lar to heed the long absent one who
asked for admittance. A bitter thought
like this run through my mind as
heard the sound from the parlor, and
saw tie half-suppressed smile on the
servants face.
hesitRted moment before making
myself known or asking for any of my
family. And while | stood silent q
strange apparition grew up before me
from behind the servant peered out a
golden head, tiny, delicate form and
sweet childish face with blue eyes, SC
like those OF one who had frightened
my boyhood, that started with sud
den feeling of pain.
"What is your name, my pretty|
asked, while the wondering servant
held the door.
"Mary Moore"
"And what else?' I asked quickly
She lifted mp her hands to shade htl
face | had seen that very attitude ii
another, in my bOyhOOd, many ant