The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1875-03-10
JOHN AND I.

}
aRy longer | shall be afraid to come
down and lock the door after YOU"
My visitor arose-a proceeding that
always reminded me of the genius
emerging from the copper vessel, as
he measured six feet three-anJ stood
looking reproachfully down upon me.
"You are in great hurry TO get
rid of me-" he replied.
Now, l didn't agree with him, tor
he had made his usual call of two
hours and u half; having, in country
phrase, taken to sitting up with me
so literally that I was frequently at
my wits ends to suppress the yawn
that l knew would bring troop rush
after it.
He was fine, manly looking fellow,
this John Crawford, old for his age
which was the rather bcyish period of
twenty-two-and every way worthy Of
being loved. But l didn't love him.
was seven years his senior; and
when instead of letting the worm of
concealment prey on his damssk cheek
he ventured to tell his love fof my
mature self, remorsslessly seized an
English prayer book, and pointed
sternly to the clause, "a man may
not marry his grandmother" That
was three years ago; and added, en-.
couragingly, Beside, John, you are a
child, and don't know your own
mind"
"If man Of nineteen doesn't know
his own mind" demonstrated my
lover, II would like to know who
should. But L will wait for you seven
years, if you say so-fourteen, as
Jacob did for Rachel"
"You forget" l replied, laughing at
his way of mending matters, "that
woman does not, like wine, improve
with age. But seriously, John, this is
absurd; you are nice boy, and l like
you--but my feelings towards you are
more like those of mother than a
wife"
The boys eyes flashed Indignantly /;
and, before l could divine his inten-
ton, he had lifted me from. the spot
where | stood, and carried me infant
fashion to the sofa at the other end of
the room.
| II could almost find it in my heart
to shake your he muttered, as he sat
me down with emphasis.
This was rather like the courtship OF
William of Normandy, and matters
promised to be quite exciting.
"Don't do that again." said |, with
dignity, when l recovered my breath
"Will you marry me?" asked John,
somewhat threateningly.
"The great, hondsome fellow" ]
thought, as he paced the floor restless
| ly; "why couldn't he fall in love with
some girl of fifteen, instead of setting
his affections on an old maid like me
l don't want the boy on my hands
and | won't have him w
"As to your being twenty six" pur.
sued John, in answer to my thought
,f"you say its down in the family bible
and I suppose it must be so; but ]
don't care if you're forty. You look
like girl of sixteen, and you are the
only woman shall ever love-"
Oh, John, John at least five mil
lions of men have said the same thing
before in every language. Neverthe
less, when you fairly break down and
cry, am disgracefully soft-hearted-
and weakly promise then and there
that l will either keep my own name
or take yours. For love is a very dog
in the manger, and John looked radi
ant at this concession. 1t was a com
fort to know that if he could moi
gather the flower himself, no one else
would. A sort of family shipwreck
had waited John to my threshold. Oul
own household was sadly broken up
and l found myself comparatively
! young in years with half invalid
father, large house, and very little
money. What more natural than tC
take boardersl And among the first
were Mr.. Crawford, and his son, and
sister, who had just been wrecked
themselves by the death of the wife
and mother in a foreign land one O
those sudden, unexpected deaths tha
leave the survivors in dazed condi
ton, because it is so difficult to imag
inc the gay wording who has beer
called hence in another state of being
Mr.. Crawford was one of my admir-
ations from the first. Tall, pale, Will
dark hair and eyes, he reminded me
of Dante, only that he was handsomer
and he had such general air of know
ing (without the least pedantry, how
ever,) that was quite afraid of him
He was evidently wrapped up in John
and patient with his sister-which wa
asking quito enough of Christian char
ity under the sun for Mrs. Shellgrov,