The Van Buren press., 1876-02-08
MISCELLANY.
Autumn Blossoms. .

How was it that came to be bache
lor2 Not because of hating women. ar
sure. for liked them very much, and
never could have spoken to one rudely ol
discourteouly for my life. AS nearly as
| know, it was in this wise:
My father died, leaving family ofchil
dren wife, and an old father and moth.
cr. Of whom only myself was able to carr
shillidg. He had never saved anything
So, after the first great grief, when we
had Gained down and were able to look
matters quietly in the face, there was a
wretehed sort of prospect for MS. l was
only an accountant, and had young fel.
lows habit Of wasting my small salary in
thousand different ways. l had been
"paying attention., too, to Elsie Hall,
who, young and childish as she was, had
way that some girls do have of leading
their admirers into extravaganza OF all
the trials ..of that never to-bc-forgotton
time, think the greatest was appearing
niggardly in those baby blue eyes. ! did
not mind wearing plain suits, discarline
kid gloves and renouncing the opera
but not to lay those bouquets and books.
and music, and dainty bits Of jewelry,
and mnititudinous triiies at Elsie feet,
was very terrible ordeal. l passed it.
though; and if ever man had reason to
be thankful had, for the acqnsitive lit.
tie beauty Tilted me In month for Tom
Tandem, who WAS rich and lavish Of gifts
and who ran away from her after mar.
riage of ten months.
worked day and night. and managed
to keep the wolf from the door
Sometimes used to think how we'll il
cd me, for she coula- have had nothing
but dismal prospect of wearing out hcl
youth in dreary, hopeless engagement
to one too poor to'marry. That was un
Ill Tom ran off. Then thought it would
have been better for her TO have shared
! our humble home and poor fare and the
love could have given her than to be
deserted so. Aud pitied her, as if she
had not proved herself heartlcss. But
never went near her, OF course; and
never even spoke of her to her mother.
grew no younger all this while, and
every year seemed TO add five to my looks
| | had never been very han some or yer,
merry. and soon | became conscious Of.
peculiar middle aged look, which settles
down upon some people very early
Strangers, too, began to take me fol
the head of the family; and once, in {
new neie ehborhood, the butcher alluded tt
"my wife found out that he ment my
mother, and only wondered that it was
not dear old grannie
She was eighty, grandfather ninety
and they died one bright autumn day
before prosperity came to us. died within
an hour of each other-for grannic jus
said, g think I'll lie down a bit, nov
Lemnal don't need me. I'm very tired
Then she kissed me. and said, " You' W
been good boy to your grandpa, Ed
ward Yon'll have that to think of"
And when next we looked at her sh
was dead with her cheek upon her hant
like a sleeping child
SO two were gone, and we were saddle
than before. Aad then Jean, my eldes
sister. married at sixteen n physician
who carried her off to Hindostan in he
honeymoon.
Aud we could none Of us feel the wed
ding happy thing.
But prosperity did come at last, ha,
worked hard for it aud any thing n maj
makes his sole object in this life he is VIC
ry sure to attain.
We were comfortab ble---casy. All, wha
word that is after years OF struggle A
last we were rich. But by that time
was fve-and forty--a large, dark, middle
aged man, with face that looked to my
self in the glass as though it were pcrpei
ually intent on figures. The girls wer
married Dick had taken to the sea, an
we saw him once year or so. and Ash
ton was at home with mother and myscl
the only really handsome member 0
our family, and just two and twenty. An
it was on his birthday, l remember, tina
that letter came from poor Hunter-tha
letter which began: "When these line
reach YOU, Ned Sanford, shall have m
six feet Of earth--all ever owned o
would if | had lived to be hundred"
We had been young together, thoug,
he was really older than and we ha
been close friends once, but rowing fl
seized him. and we had not met,for years
| knew he had married young Kentis
girl, and knew no more. but now he tol
me that she was dead and that his deaf
would leave daughter an orphan.
She is not quite penniless." he wrote
60 for her mother had little income
which, poor as was, | was never hrnt
enough to mcddle with, and it has descer
ded to her But have been rolling
stone, gathering no moss, all my life
and we have never staid long enough il
one place to make friends. Will you b
her guardian 1t is dying man s last re
quest
| And then he wrote some words, com
! ing from his heart, | knew, which, heinz
Of myself. | cannot quote even here
could not think that deserved them.
| And the result of that letter, and of an
other from the lawyer who had Ami