Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1878-07-18
NO. 1853.
Gales and Sketehes.
AUNT FANNY'S STORY.


walls of the village academy, where |
was taught the rudiments and some of
the accomplishments considered neces-
sary to practical education. To put on
a finish | attended first-class seminary
Tor year, or more.
That year, how many stories il might
tell. of lives made miserably unworthy of
| their possessors, of lives begun midst the
loftiest aspirations, and the sternest re-
solves, but ending in the deepest, darkest
despair.
While attending school in nv native
village / had paid but little attention to
the would-be-beaux, for | was determined
TO give my whole attention to the s'get-
ting of knowledge"
But had not been at L. seminary a
| week before encountered pair of the
most bewitching black eyes that my own
blue Orbs ever beheld. For an instant,
| seemed to be perfectly fascinated, riv-
eted TO the floor, so fixed was their gaze
upon my own face. Suddenly their own
er seemed to become aware of his rude
ness. and at once turned his attention to
something else.
The following day found us classmates.
| and although the sexes were not allowed
| to address each other, before night we
had been formally introduced
Harry Steele was pronounced to he the
best student in the institute also the
handsomest and most fascinating gentle
man to be found for miles around. Ami
| able and active, with good moral char
| acter, he was general favorite where
ever he went.
The girls were all anxious to win his
| regards; but he treated each young lady
with the same marked politeness, and
| none could tell which lady-fair was the
favorite one. When all pronounced him
| the bean-deal of perfection, what won
der that !, simple village maid, should
gaze upon him with admiration, and then
with Iove-beaming eyes. Particularly
| when. after six months acquaintance,
he confessed his love for me and vowed
eternal fidelity.
If rhetoric and the ologies and ome-
| tries received my attention, there was
another study that claimed more of it,
and which was not named in the principal
| catalogue. For six months | was su-
premely happy.
II Harry was not constantly at my side,
was not my desk crammed to over flow
ing with gllded and perfumed note paper.
which was covered over and over with
passionate avOwals of devotion to my
| fair self And were not-those same pro-
| tessions clothed in the most beautiful lam
guage that could be expressed In voice
less words? Yet with all this happiness
| filling my soul, | never neglected my
studies. The midnight lamp, yes, and the
early dawn, not unfrequenlly found me
hard at work at my lessons.
had an object in view worth all my eff
f.. I h..
sake of the knowledge should need, to
win me a favored seat amid cultivated
people. Now. | desire his commendation
to make myself his equal, and to be wor-
thy of his love, was the height of my am
bition. To love him was a part of my
life. He seemed part of my very self
Not thought, not an aspiration had but
what iD some way was connected with
him. II IA doubt ever entered my mind
| that he might Prove recreant to his vows,
drove the thought awaJ as unworthy of
him and myself.
Judge then, if you can. what my feel
ings must have been, when. on bright
September morning, my room-mate hand
| ed me paper, at the same time pointing
to the list OF marriages, and | beheld the
| name of Henry Steele to Miss Ida Sum-
ner" at the head of the column. l did
| not cry out nor faint. for did not believe
| my eyes.
But an hour had not passed before
well known tinted envelope was handed
| to me how hugged it TO my heart, feel
| ing. oh, SO sure. my Harry was not false
to his oit-repeated vows. AS soon as /
had entered the privacy of my own
| chamber. tore off the covering of the
little note and read:
DARLING Fanny: Forgive me for the
step am obliged TO take, for it is only
you that | love, and be assured that Your
sufferings will only equal my own. When
you receive this shall be welded to one
Ior whom | have only commonplace re-
gard. But unless | do this unholy deed
my father will be bankrupt, and he de-
clares that he will commit suicide unless
| consent to save him by marriage that
has long been contemplated by our pa
rents. Forget one who is unworthy OF
Jour ture devotion.
| Your unhappy
| HARRY.
remember putting the note with the
rest OF those | had almost worshipped.
Then there was blank in my life.
When next realized my whereabouts
| was at home, andustern old winter was
holding carnival. | recovered from my
illness very slowly. For many months /
fingered seemingly on the brink OF the
grave. Though the very best physicians
were sought they could not effect cure.
l had no ambition TO recover. No de-
| sire to go forth into the gay world, to min
gle with society. Not single object in
life could see that was worth effort. Nv
parents were in good circumstances, so 1
had no need to exercise my faculties TOR
self support; physicians needed the sup
port their visits demanded. and as long as
| | was considered an invalid, nothing
would be required of me in the way OF
doing for others. l grew thoroughly sell
fish. | seldom saw anyone but the men,
bers of our own family Books and pa
pers thoroughly hated. even kept the
sunlight from my room; could not en-
dure its cheerful brightness. What right
had it to shine and make all the world
bright, when there was only the blackness
Of darkness in my heart