Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1874-03-11


liked me but | wasn't sure. courted
her a good while, hut she was as shy as
any bird, and l couldn't satisfy myself
as to her feelings. So I made up my
mind to ask and know for certain. Some
old poet SAYS:
"He either fears his f-te too much,
Or his desc ts are small.
VII fears 20 put II { tn touch,
And win or lose II all
II agreed with him and one evening
as / walked home from a little party
where We had met, with her on my arm,
| stopped under a great willow tree,
and took her hand in mine, and said:
'Jessie, / love you better than nv
life-will you marry me?"
81 waited for an answer
''She gave none.
Jessie" l said, won't you speak to
me?"
Then she did speak:
"No-oh, dear, mol"
81 offered her my arm again, and took
her home without word. She did not
speak either. She had told me before
that she should start with the dawn to
visit an aunt in New York but L did
not even say goodbye at the door. i
bowed; that was all. Then when she
was out of sight, and / stood alone in
the village street, / felt desperate
enough to kill myself"
"What had / done to nave so cold a
refusal? Why should she scorn nae so
Oh, dear, no / grew furious as | re
peated these words.
'Yet, it stung me all the same. /
tossed from side to side of my bed all
night, and thought / could endure it no
longer. But would not pain and dis
grace my respectable relatives by COM
mitting suicide in the place wherein
they dwelt and were well known and
thought of. L would go TO New York
even then very large city-and,
seeking some hotel, register an assumed
name, and, retiring at night with a
bottle of laudanum and brace of pis-
tolls, awake no more, and so be nd of
my misery. / arranged my affairs to
the best of my ability, and received an
imaginary letter from friend in New
York, requesting my presence on n mat
ter of business. burdened myself with
no unnecessary luggage. What did an
unknown suicide want OF another coat
and change of linen?
81 kissed my mother and sister, and
startled my grandmother by an embrace,
and started upon what / mentally called
my last journey, with determined
spirit.
"There was a certain hotel to which
many of the people of our village were
in the habit of going. This avoided.
Another, chosen at hazard, seemed to
be better. Thither l walked, deter
mined to leave no trace of my destina-
ton to those who knew memo clew TO
my identity to those who shall find me
dead"
81 had no mark upon my clothing, no
card, paper or letter with me. l had
torn the hatter's mark from my beaver.
As L ascended the hotel steps felt, so
to speak, like one going to his own
funeral.
"a grinning waiter bowed before me.
A pert clerk lifted up his head and
stared. / was an ordinary traveller to
them-that was evident.
at was late in the evening. The
place wore an air of repose. Laughter
and faint chink Of glasses in an inner
apartment, told of some conviviality.
One old man read his newspaper before
the fire. Nothing else was astir.
81 asked for a room. The clerk
nodded.
"Do Won care what hoor?" he asked.
81 shook my head.
Number twenty mine is empty" he
said, and tossed a key to the waiter,
whom followed at once.
ave reached the room by two flights
of stairs. At the door the waiter
paused.
Though he said twenty-nine." he
muttered, "tbe key is twenty-one.
"Then open twenty-one with 1t, l
said. 81 don't care for the number of
the room"
"No sir-to be sure, SIR" said the
waiter, and passed along a few steps
further.
"Twenty-one," he said, and, unlock
ing a door, pushed it open
":Shall l bring you anything, sir
he said.
II answered No. and he left me,
having put the candle on my bureau.
seTbe hour had come. As shut the
door, a heavy sigh escaped me. Alas
that life had become so wOeful a thing
to me that / should desire TO be rid OF
it. :, :,
"In the dim light of my one candle,
paced the floor, and thought bitterly oil
the girl l loved so dearly.
"It was in the days of curtained beds
The bed in this room was hung with
dark chintz: SO were the windows.
Over the bureau was looking glass,
with a portrait of lady in pulled
sleeves and high comb, at the top, by
yay of ornament. There were four
stnfred chairs, and brass shovel and
tonps stood guard beside the crate. l
fancied myself lying dead on the pea
amidst all these belongings. and felt
sorry for myself. Then 1 took my pls-
tolls from my portmanteau, and leaving
the door unlocked, for why should L
mt the landlord to the trouble OF break
ing it open, 1 lay down on the bed,
drew the curtains, took pistol in each
hand. and, as true as / now speak 10
Won had the muzzle of each to temple,
when some one opened the door, and
There, now, Jessie, said a voice. L
told Won you didn't lock it. =,
II did," said another voice, land
sent the key to the office by the cham
ber-maid."
81 laid the pistols down and peeped
through the curtains. There were two