The Lake County star. [volume] (Chase, Mich.) 1873-current, 1877-02-08
DEATH OR MARRIAGE.

The ancient clock in Deacon Shermer's
old. fashioned kitchen was slowly CHM
ing the hour of nine. 1t was no smart
toy; no trifie of bronze or alabaster, but
q tall, square, solid relic of the last CEN
tury, looking not unlike coffin-case set
on end in the c0rner-a clock that had
lasted through four generations, and,
judging from appearance, was likely to
last through several more. Deacon Sher-
mer cherished the old heirloom with a
sort of pride which he would have scarcely
confessed to.
There was great ruddy fire of chest
nut logs in the red brick fireplace, and
the eandlesin in the brightly-polished brass
sticks were winkipg merrily from the
high wooden mantel, where they shared
the post of honor with curious sea-shell
and couple of vases. At the window a
curtain of gaudy chintz shut out the
tens of thousands of stars that were
shining brightly on the autumnal night,
and on the cozy rug of the parti-colored
rags fat tortoise-shell cat was not the
only inhabitant of the old farmhouse
kitchen.
"Timothy," said Mary Shermer, de-
cidedly, "if you don't behave yourself
Ill"
=. What she would do, Mary did not say
the sentence was terminated with laugh
that set the dimples around her mouth
in motion, Just as beam of June sun
shine plays across cluster of ripe cher
ries.
j. Mary Shermer was just seventeen-a
plump, rosy girl with black hair, brushed
back from low forehead, and perfectly
arched eyebrows, that gave bewitching
expression of surprise to a pair OF hazel
eyes. She was rather dark, but the
severest critic could not have found
fault with the peach-like bloom upon
her cheeks, and the red of her daintily
curved lips. Evidently Mr.. Timothy
Marshall was satisfied with Mary's style
of beauty.
"Come, Mary" said Tim, picking up
the thread of the conversation where he
bad dropped it when it became necessary
for Mary to bid him behave himself,
"you might promise it's nine o'clock,
and your father will soon be home"
"Promise what, Tim?" said Mary,
demurely, fitting square of red in her
patchwork, and intently observing the
effect.
"Nonsense. Mary! You know what
very well. Promise to marry me before
Christmas! / tell you what, it's all
very well for you to keep putting me
off, but / can't stand it. What with
your fathers forbidding me the house,
and that Tom Stanley's coming here
every Sunday night"
Mary gave her pretty head toss.
Gas if Mr.. SANKEY'S coming here
made any difference in my feelings,
Timp
"No; but Mary, it isn't pleasant, you
know. I'm as good man as Tom Stan.
lev, if / don't own railroad shares and
keep an account at the Hamiltonville
bank; and / love you. Mary, from the
bottom of my heart. Now this matter
lies between you and me alone; no Other
person in the world has right to inter
fere between us. Come, promise me J
He held both her hands in his anC
looked earnestly into her eyes. d.
you love me, MaryT
"You know love you, TIM
"Then VIC may just as well-hush
what was that?'
There was portentous sound OF draw
ing bolts and rattling latches in tn
porch beyond "a scraping OF heav.
boots along the floor.
"Oh, Tim, it's fatherv'
"Suppose it is?'
"But he mustn't find you here, Tim
Hide yourself somewhere, dop
"What nonsense, Mary" said tn
young man, resolutely standing hi
hor IN at a
his spoons. Why should / creep ava
like detected burglarr
"For my sake, Tim. If you eve
loved me, do ms l say Not in tha
closet; it is close to his bedroom nc
through that window, for it is naile
down. He is coming! Here, Tin
quickp ~
In the drawing of breath, che ba
pushed him into the square pendulum
case of the tall old clock, and turnt
the key upon him. 1t was not a pleasa1
place of refuge, inasmuch as his shot
ders were squeezed on either side, al
his head hattened against springs al
wheels above, and the air was unples
antly close; but Tim made the best
matters, and shook with suppress
laughter in his prison cell.
"Well, jolly scrape to be in
thought he, "and no KNOWN when
be out of it. Mary's shrewd lit
puss, however, and / can't do beti
than leave matters in her hands"
$50 you haven't gone TO bed y
Maryp said Deacon Shermer, slow
unwinding the two yards Of woolen Sc
with which he generally encased
throat of an evening.
"Not yet, father" said Mary, picki
up the scattered bits Of patchwork vi
n glowing cheek. "Did you nave
pleasant meetingw
"Well, yes" quoth the deacon,
hectively, sitting down before the 4
greatly to Msry's CONSERVATION
had hoped he would 30 10 bed al on
according 10 his usual custom--"it it ,
topbly pleasant. Elder Huskler ,
there. and Elder Hopkins, and--well,
the church folks, pretty much. w
how red your cheeks are, Mary; TIL
amt you2 Well, you needn't sit