Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1878-08-15
MARY'S LOVE LETTER.

COSSup CoANA S1oAAS 49,
knitting his black eyebrows together
until they formed an ominous black
bar across his forehead, and nearly
frightened his bright-eyed daughter
out Of her senses. But Mary Berga-
mot stood bravely to the guns of her
little citadel.
s'No, father, /" said she. 80, how
can you ask me, father, when you
know don't love him, and never
can ?''
Never is q long WHILE" said the
squire.
Eyes, papa, know that" said
Mary. ''But indeed, l nean it."
"You mean it, do you 2'' said the
squire, in low and measured tones.
Now. let me tell you what 1t
isn't tnat you don't like Hawkins
Jessup, but that you have been goose
enough to go and fall in love with
that young idiot, George Lake !
Mary turned very red.
"Papa!''
There's no use mincing matters,
said theirate squire. IAN artist,
indeed (! Why don't he 60 to white
washing and painting, and get q de-
cent living ?''
"But papa
Needn't attempt ty argue with
me, miss !" said Squire Bergamot,
sternly. "I'll have none of it, and
so tell you if George Lake comes
into my house, he'll be pat out sery
quick And so you may tell him."
So saying, the squire strobe out of
the room. Mary looked after him
with soft, sorrowful eyes. She was
delicate, oval-faced girl, with sun
ny brown hair and straight features,
as unlike the rotund and positive
squire'S as light to darkness. But
rs she put down the iron with which
she was "doing up'' her fathers
shirts-Squire Bergamot would have
thought it crying sin to employ a
laundress while his daughter enjoyed
her ordinary health-she leaned up
up against the window where the
arrowy sunbeams came in through
the tremulous veil of heart shaped
morning-glory leaves, and drew from
her pocket a note written in a
strong, masculine hand;
''MY DEAR MARY Il love you
Will you promise to be my wife.
spite of all opposition ? Will you
tell me so with your own lips ?
Eyer yours, faithful to death,
GEORGE.
How her eyes glittered as she read
and re-read the short and simple
lines, pressing them finally to her
red lips.
81 do love him 1 will be his
wife - she murmured. "And I
will tell him so the very first chance
/ get. Only papa 70
A momentary cloud stole over her
serene brow at this, but it was tran.
sient.
81 don't believe in elopements,"
said Mary Bergamot, still riveting
her eyes on the sheet If paper in her
hand. 81 never did. But il papa
still persists in opposing our mar
rlage, will leave my home and go
out into the world hand-in-hand
with George"
Just as this revolutionary thought
passed through her mind the door
creaked on its hinges. A heavy,
well known sootstep sounded On the
threshold.
''It's papa - cried Mary.
Ia her CONSERVATION our poor lit
tie heroine could not find the en-
trance to her pocket IN the multitu-
dinous folds of her dress. For Sc
cond she was in imminent danger OF
dete ;tion then she hurriedly thrust
the incendiary document into the
yawniHg mouth of paper bag of
choice .seed-corn, which hung by
the window, And the next instant
Squire B3rgamot was in the room.
"Mary," said he, ''go up stairs to
the left-h hand corner of middle bu-
Ieau drawer and get me a clean
pocket handkerchief"
And Mary went out with a dubi-
Gus glance at the nail on which the
bag of ''Early Sugar Corn" hung.
When she returned the room
was empty, and Squire Bergamot
was Just climbing up into his lun-
ber-box wagen in front of the picket
fence.
Bring it out here" said the
squire, "1'm going over to Miss
Polly Peppers to get my empty ci-
der cask. She might have had the
sense to return it herself 10
He slowed the pocket-handker-
clIief away in his pocket, and was
inst taking up the reins when Mary