The Toledo chronicle. [volume] (Toledo, Tama County, Iowa) 1873-1924, 1875-11-04
NOT A KNICKERBOCKER.

NOT A KNICKERBOCkER.
THE dinner had reached that point at
which it is considered incumbent on the
ladies to retire.
Little Mrs. George Vanderburgh, sole
representative of her sex at the table,
looks doubtfully across to her husband
and obedient to the glance of approval
she sees in his eyes rises to depart. Jack
Raymond, their guest, who completes the
small party of three, also starts to his feet,
anticipating the ponderous movement OF
the venerable family retainer and filings
wide open the heavy mahogany doors
through which the little lady must make
her way to the hall Mrs. George smiles
at him. then bushes as her small feet en-
tangle themselves in her train and finally
passes through the lofty arch, dragging
foamy pillows of NalenCiennes lace and
azure silk in her wake. Mr. Raymond
gazes after her with stare of admiration
for which he would never have forgiven
himself if it had fallen upon his hostess
fair face instead of her back hair.
Jack resumes his place at the others
right hand.
81 say, George, where did you find
her? Who is she ?"
my wife"
Obviously; but I don't understand
When | went to Europe two years ago |
left you lying in an attitude of PROSTATE
alteration at the feet of the imperial Judith
Delmar, belle of the avenue and queen at
Saratoga, with every prospect of an imme
diate wedding"
my dear fellow, got up"
"And now | come back and find you
married to an-an angel. How on earth
did it happen? Who was she?"
Jacks enthusiasm is checked by a
warning glance from his host. He looks
up, and his eyes meet the sable counte-
nance of the ancient servitor of the Van
derburgh family, and discover there an
eager curiosity that even exceeds his own.
Poor Jacob! He has lived with the
family, man and boy, for nearly eighty
years; his reverence for the Knicker-
booker blood is as strong as his faith in
the New Testament, and now in his old
age he is compelled to serve mistress
whose name he does not know. Now per-
haps there is chance that the secret may
be disclosed.
Alas! no. George Vanderburgh quenches
his African with glance. Jacob, at
tend to your business. Put the cigars on
the table, and go"
Il beg your pardon, George" begins
Mr. Raymond, as soon as they are alone.
"You need not, Jack Mrs. George
Vanderburgh is-Mrs. George Wander
burgh; and for the quiduuncs of society
that is enough. But you, old friend, CON-
panion of my boyhood and truest-hearted
of men, shall hear the story if you like"
Not unless you like"
"But l do" Then the cigars are
lighted, and the two young men settle
themselves comfortably in their chairs,
the one to hear and the other to tell a
story.
"Now, Jack, if you have an imagina
ton, fancy how the bones of all my
Dutch ancestors must shake when l an
nounce that the last of their line has
married woman whose name was Smith"
"Smithr
EITHER that or none Do you know
anything of New England, Jack"
"Have heard of the place-a land of
wooden nutmegs. There is small set
tlement on the coast called Boston, where
the people eat Greek roots instead of
bread and butter"
Exactly. But New Hampshire is the
scene of my small love-story. 1t was at
the foot of one of those glorious granite
mountains l picked up my daisy, my
Margaret, my pearl You remember the
summer when you sailed for Europe. The
same week l received commands from the
imperial Judith to follow her to Saratoga,
or rather she insinuated that my presence
there would give her pleasure. took the
hint and followed, and after the manner
of other devotees before the altar of fash
ion we exchanged the monotonous weari-
ness of fashionable life in New York for a
second edition of the same thing at wa
tering-place. We danced and we rode and
we walked. was the imperial Judith's
devoted cavalier. l had quite made up
my mind to lay my hand and fortune at
the lady's feet; and although 1 felt it
would not do to cucumber her with my
heart, as she had never displayed the
smallest interest in that part of my per-
sonality, it nevertheless pleased my fancy
to think of the queen-like grace with
which she would preside over the hos
pitalities of the Vanderburgh mansion,
and concluded to be satisfied.
But one morning as we were walking
toward the springs, the fair hand of royal
Judith lying on my arm, sense of the
importance of the step I was about to
take began to oppress me. felt long
ing for a few weeks of perfect peace and