Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1878-10-26

| questioned the reality Of all earthly
things Three white shocked faces
confronted the lawyer.
at cannot be true" cried out at
last, Uncle Maurice surely was not
so wicked" ="
But it was true, and we were as
poor as when we lived in Mrs. Jenk-
ms back attic.
Abby and Juliet accepted this re-
verse Of fortune very calmly, but |
wept and refused to be comforted,
and took pleasure in hating uncle
Maurice.
With magnanimity worthy of
praise, Mr., Chaloner again came for
ward and proposed but pride made
me reject him this time.
NO." l said proudly, 81 wouldn' t
marry you when l was rich, dom ask
me to now"
Then went up stairs and cried
until my nose was the size of a toacup.
My sisters naturally thought l
would make my home with them, but
had not the rcmotest idea of such
thing. We had / warm discussion on
the subject one night, and | came off
victor.
"But what are you going to do,
Cliff? asked Abby.
II am going down to Pickensvillo
to teach school and wear out all the
Gnery."
So after the wedding I departed for
Pickensville. This highly interesting
village was composed of two dozen
houses, five stores, and set of the
most respectfully stupid people that I
ever saw.
Tie mild dissipation the Pickens-
Williams INDUCED in, when compared
to that | had just given up, was like
blue skinned milk to rich, red wine
My life was dreary samencss from
week to week. If | had kept a diary
it would have been as barren Of
events as Mark Twain en- ship board.
Here would have been an entry:
Eat my breakfast, went to school,
and whipped all the children because
they wouldnt obey me. Dismissed
at five o'clock, went home and put on
one of my prettiest dresses, and spent
the remainder Of the day in the de-
Iightful occupation of tormenting
Josephus James, the village lawyer. y
Abby and Juliet wrote regularly
each week, and as regularly begged
me to give up my foolish pride and
come back to them but I stubbornly
refused.
One morning when started to my
daily torture-tcaching the youth of
Pic'<ensyille was a torture to mel
felt SO blue and spiritless, | longed to
lie down by the wayside, and never
rise any more.
All through the day I inwardly
moaned over my lot, looking back re-
gretfully to that year of pleasure, That
lay like g rift Of warm light across
the grayness Of my life.
At recess, when with several dis
tinctive Yells my unruly scholars de-
parted for their playground | put my
head down on the desk to have a good
comfortable cry.
The first tears had just splashod
down when the door opened and Hugh
Chaloner entered My heart throb'
bed fast with joy, but dried my eyes
and tried to appear as cool and calm
as a May morning; but | didn't sue
ceed, for
"You hive been crying, Cliff" were
among the first words he said to ice.
"I haven't" cried Indignantly.
"Well, there are tears on your face
anyhow"
"O-I that-is-'
"You are not good at telling stories,
he interrupted with a laugh. Their
he locked keenly at me and said;
"You are pale and thin, Clifford" :"
at is only the cool wind that makes
me lcok pale. have splendid health
and nice time.
Indeed! !"
eyes, Mr.. James is SO kind anc
agreeable" ="
Mr.. Chaloner laughed.
81 am glad you are so happy, Mis-
Royal, but you must congratulate Int
now"
"What on?" l asked, feeling my
heart sinking.