Buchanan County bulletin. [volume] (Independence, Iowa) 1869-1891, 1874-07-17

scribably Iudicr0M One moment
he simpers shamefaccdly at his fel.
low-suferers who pass him in thejr
march, and another g1arcs savngely
at the carpet, the walls, and the cell.
ing, as if spelling for fight. But
all the time he is looking anxiously
at his watch, until a halfhour has
slowly passed away; when he steals
hastily back to his door, knocks and
enters, where necessity compcls us to
leave him. The explanation is sim
ple-he has been sent out while the
young and inexperienced madam dis
robes herself. He is ashamed to 90
down stairs, so he watches out the
vigil in the hall.
On one joyful and nc'cr-to-bc-for-
gotten occasion-the first of many
times that / have sought to console
myself for the woes of bachelorhood
by this pitiable sight was called in
to assist at the reunion after the half.
hour had elapsed. A groom, bigger
and maddcr than the average, had
hardly rc-cntered his nuptial chamber
when hereappeared with direst alarm
and CONSERVATION depicted in his con-
tenance. His room was the end one
in the hall, and my face the first one
to meet his agonized glance.
care you one of the hotel mcn?"
he gasped.
81 am sir" l replied, with that in
nate truthfulness that characterized
the descendants Of George Wash
ington.
"Well sir, my wife has gone, and
I'll have her, sir, if 1 search every
room in your cursed old shanty.
In vain l sought to console the ag-
itated youth and check the current Of
profanity that coursed with Niagara's
own rush and roar from his trembling
lips. In vain 1 assured him that it
was not customary for wives to run
away SO early in their marital life,
and that there was not case on rec
ord Of ones quitting her bed and
board before the expiration of the
honeymoon. 1t was useless-he
would not be comforted-till finally,
purely out of the philanthropy of an
unselfish heart, l suggested that he
let me assist him in examining his
room for traces of the missing bride.
He at once assentcd, and threw open
the door.
I entered with voiceless reverence.
No hnman beings but ourselves were
visable. In the corner piled upon
chair, were the ordinary articles of
woman's apparel. In the bed was a
mock form, composed Of a pillow and
a flannel shirt, which the warmth of
the alarmed husband had ruthlessly
and immodestly exposed. I took in
the situation in glance. There
was evidently nothing under the bed
that is, nothing of any consc-
quence-for it came too near the
floor. There were no closets in the
room, no other doors, and nothing
behind which one could hide. There
was, however, what the French call
6oxfet, with shelves at the top and
folding doors at the bottom. I
gauged the thing in my minds eye,
and concluded there was just room
enough for flexible little woman
without much clothing to squeeze in
there. All this was but the work of
an instant's observation, and then l
spoke with my mouth sharply:
"Young man, you have made an
ass ofyoursclf. Go to that sidcboard
and find her."
Without waiting for me to hide Ny
bushes behind the door, he opened
the boufet with bound, and there,
nestled amid a cloud Of tleecy white,
and covered with laughter and blush
es, was the prettiest little rosebud Of
face that ever cleaned out of lace
and linen. Sadly and remorsefully l
passed out of the chamber door,
leaving the rosebud to its fate. Let
us hope that the poor little woman
held her own.