Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1878-06-21

veranda, upon Which the French win
dows of the sitting-room opened. The
stables and kitchen were outof sight
and smell somewhere; the lawn was
cool with trees, and the bright, swiftly
flowing river shone at the bottom of it.
A lady sat in a cane camp chair in the
veranda, reading the paper; she heard
our voices and rose, and was intro
duced to Mrs. Sinclair. My friend had
made a good selection; she was hand
some, well-dressed, courteous, hospita-
BILE, without knowing it. BY which, as
/ cannot read peoples hearts, l of
course mean that she gave one the inn
preston of not knowing il. She rather
patrOnized me as being q benighted
bachelor, after the manner of matrons
of twenty.
1t was about five o'clock in the after
noon, and she wanted to have dinner
for me in couple of hours, but, of
course, l would not let them alter their
domestic arrangements, so had light
snack then and there, after which de-
clared my readiness to take to the
water.
Passing out on to the lawn, Accord
ingly, found another lady with Mrs.
Sinclair, and was made acquainted with
Miss Filmer, a quiet, retiring little girl,
rather nice-looking when you came to
notice her particularly, which one
might very well neglect doing when
there were several other girls present.
Mrs. Sinclair called her Daisy, and n
most appropriate name it was for her.
The boat-house, which was also ar
.n,,rra1 n,nra,ninnf hafh hnttun frfxy
ing promise of an early plunge next
morning, contained an out-rigger, a
canoe and a skifi The latter, which
was afloat and only fastened by a pad
lock, was loosened; the ladies seated
themselves in the stern, Mrs. Sinclair
taking the tiller, and as her husband
remembered that l had rowed on the
stroke-side at the University L was
placed on the after-thwart, in easy con-
versational contact with them. When
Sinclair wanted to join in the talk he
had to raise his voice and to demand
repetition of any laughter-causing OBJ
servation with What's thatP'
had not rowed for some time and
my hands were rather tender, but took
it easy and saved them.
1t was a calm and glowing evening,
the scenery was that which | like best,
the conversation of the ladies was by
no means of furbelows, as Sinclair had
put it, but clever, natural and interest
ing, so that was enjoying myself thor
oughly and no longer calculated on an
early departure.
care you talking about booksP''
cried Sinclair from the bows. "Mind
what you say, Kate; Jones there is an
authority"
"No, no,n said I; az am only hang.
er-on to journalism" -Er.| U.I.N
"Oh, am so glad that you are 6
literary man. | do so want a really
good opinion about certain book
Miss Filmer, you must know, is an au
thoress."
"Oh, no, Kater' ....
You are, Daisy, and you are grea
deal too diffident. Diffidence is grea
bar to success, is it not, Mr.. JonesP''
"ln my proper profession, the law
it certainly would be fatal" | replied
laughing. "And l think that in au
thorship little confidence is just as
well. But what is your work, Miss Fill
mer-a novelP"
"No, though am accused of diff
dence, was so ambitious as to write
verses. But was rightly punished fol
my temerity, and their worthlessness
was fully exposed"
"The NEST disgraceful, the most un-
manly, cowardly attack that was ever
pennedr' cried Mrs. Sinclair indignant
ly. "Some of those poems are beauti-
full; all show originality and talent; you
shall see for yourself, Mr.. Jones, and
judge"
"Oh, no, pleaser' said Miss Filmer,
who looked really distressed.
81 hope you will not refuse me the
pleasure of reading them," said 1.
"She cannot; you shall have nv
copy" cried Sinclair from behind me.
II am no Judge of poetry myself, but
thought them capital, and so did the
publisher really, you know because, he
printed them without making any
charge"
am afraid he has lost money, poor
man." sighed the poetess.
"Oh, Miss Filmer! What was the
name of the review that attacked youP''
"The Blank ReUieU," replied Mrs.
Sinclair for her friend. "Did you ever
hear of itp'
Yes" said /, as carelessly as ]
could, but bit of lump began to rise
in my throat; "' l have seen the peri
odical. Did Miss Filmer publish under
her own nameP' .
"No, she took the nom de plume of
Dora, fortunately; think she would
hardly ever have got over the attack,
if it had not been for the shelter of a
pseudonym."
"Mr. Jones will think me very thin.
skinned" said Miss Filmer with a
smile; butt do not think that l should
have taken any fair criticism of my
book, however severe, to heart. In
deed, some were kind and some were
harsh, and | set them against one an
other. But this particular notice
seemed to be dictated by personal NAL
ice, for it sought to turn me into ridi-
Guile, as well as my work. 1t made me
feel as if l had done a bold and un-
womanly thing, and certainly cured
me forever of authorship. No success
would compensate one for being made
the subject of such attacks"
If give you my real name, which of
course is not Jones, you would recog-
nize the fact that l am not generally
considered deficient in that useful
forensic quality-er--supp we call
it brass. Even in those early days
was not easily put out of countenance.
But on that occasion ! did wish that the
bottom of the boat would open, and a
friendly barbel of whale-like proper
tion absorb me quietly.
For once nG n mX life did FEEL Il tTHSt
self. The pretty, little, delicate, gentle
girl, so refined, so sensitive-oh! it was
Just as if had struck blind man, or
an infant!
THAT is the old FORM" gasped Sin
clair. "But I--say-you know-we
have-to come-back-again."
"You will knock my poor husband
quite up if you row so fast" said his
wife with smile that had touch of
anxiety in il. And. in truth. irving to