Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1878-02-13
Fathers and Children's Wills.

TALE BREAKIsG MEsDISG.
In the days when all the world was ro
mantle, and no one was ashamed of it, two
gentlemen of England conceived the pre-
posterous but fashionable idea that, because
they were friends, their son and daughter
then infants in their cradles. must love each
other when they grew to be man and woman.
Consequently, each made will, and mat
ters were so arranged that if either of the
young people declined the hand of the other,
that young person would be penniless and
and his or her estate go to the other young
person who was willing After some years
the gentleman whose child was daughter
left his native England for America, whie
the other remained in England, so that the
ocean rolled between the romantic friends
The English resident was named Edmund
Harrington. The American, Charles Sea.
bright. Both were wealthy, and both brought
their children up carefully. As they grew
older they permitted them to correspond
with each other, but each detested the task
so, that the letters were actually written by
the elders themselves. Once, at the age OF
fourteen, when news came that Harold Har
ington had fallen from tree and broke hi
leg Elsie Seabright was desired to repl,
that she felt great regret, and send her best
love and wishes for his speedy recovery :
but the girl who could never listen to tn,
boys name with anything like patience, re-
fused to write one word of this amiablt
epistle.
al wish he had broken his neck, so that
| might never hear any more about him.
she said with stamp of her slippered foot ;
land won't write fbs."
So again mamma wrote the letter, having
first locked Elsie up in dark pantry by
way of punishment.
"And am sorry to find child of mine
so unfeeing," she said. "a broken leg
causes great pain, and may make one lame
for life"
A nice thing for me that would be if I
am TO marry him." said Elsie.
Indeed, if she had been as sympathetic as
her mother desired her to, Elsie would have
had opportunity enough to exercise these
feelings, for her young betrothed was always
in some pickle, and had nearly drowned
and shot himself dozen times, to say moth
ing of ordinary tumbles.
1t was tit for tat, at all events, for when
Elsie had the measles Master Harold re-
ceived the information with contemptuous
Indifference amounting to heartlessness, and
mad indeed said that he did not care. He
hated girls, and this one worst of them all.
So with the ocean between them, the
young people grew to maturity, and the year
approached in which they were to meet.
But meanwhile all sorts of things hap
Iened Elsie lost both her father and her
mother, and away in England Mr.. lIarring
ton died suddenly of apoplexy. So the tive
men who had looked forward for so many
wears to meeting when their children Were
married. never met again. But for thost
obstinate wills the whole matter would hav,
been dropped, for the last thing the young
people desired was to meet each other Blu
the young man was OF age, and the youn!
lady also, and the property must be settled
and could not until the match was either OF
or off. The old lawyers, in whose hands tn
lffair rested. knew the feelings of thei
wards, but they judged that meeting nigh
mend matters. At least it was necessar
that they should meet. So Harold, as il
duty bound, was to cross the ocean to NEE
his betrothed, and give her an opportunit
TO refuse him.
The news of his arrival brought into fu
activity those feelings of repugnance tina
Elsie had conceived for Harold in her chile
mood. Yet there was enough of world
wisdom in her head to teach her how niue
better it was to be rich than to be poor.
he refused her, her fortune aud his ais
would be her own by law. She would fore
him to refuse her, and then she would r
iurn him his, and all would be as it shoul
But how could she do this ?
The girl sat for a while in deep revcry, an
then arose and clapped her hands togethe
A thought had struck her. There was in Il
nouse seamstress-a vulgar girl, as pla
Is it was possible TO be, and with as muC
conceit as any young beauty was ever bless'
With. Her rough manners and ways of speeC
mad become proverbial amongst her oN
lass, the other servants speaking of her sc
/ rally as Crusty Betsy. And this girl had
late been occupied in the room of her youI
mistress over some new dresses. Straight
this department Elsie flew and, locking d
I ,loor, sat down opposite Betsy, aud said;
I al have something for you to do, aud
pay you well for it.
I !" Just name it then" said Betsy.
+ "When was a little girl, Betsy" sa
= Elsie, "poor papa promised that | shou
1 marry young gentleman who lives in En
5 land, when | was grown, and that if
h not | should lose my fortune. Now t
It time has come and he is coming, and car
n marry him, Betsy, and want him to
!. fuse. Do YOU understand 2"
A Al understand" said Betsy, "and if
n were you I'd huff him off quick enough, Al
!. make him glad to 60"
? !" And | can't think how to do it Bets,
IS said Elsie, land il YOU can YOU must do
!. for me. While he STAYS YOU must prete
=; that YOU are Miss Seabright, you must we
- NV clothes and take all the airs YOU possil
. can. and make him as unhappy as possib
d so that he will have to refuse you-that
a me. you know. Be sharp as YOU can wi
# him Betsy-never the least bit of nj
Il You'll try. won't YOU, Betsy ?"
m 81 can give any one as good as they Sc