Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1878-09-27
nd bowing graciously to his right hand

turned; and as, like an honorable body
guard, we formed round the new.
conner, TO escort him TO his hotel, the
crowd that had gathered to receive him
fell into procession behind us.
IL was the cold season, and we called
on him the next morning TO take him
for n ride. He was full of his pleasant
reception, and anxious to become per-
sonally acquainted with those who had
so interested themselves in him
go! you'll know them soon enough, -"
my friend said. Shouldn't wonder If
you find, when you go back, that half
the community has been calling on
you" And sure enough, when we re-
turned, there was his table heaped high
with visiting-cards. His eyes glistened.
GIVE heard that people abroad were
hospitable," he said, "but, upon my
word, this kind of thing l didn't ex-
pect."
My friend glanced over the heap of
cards.
"Ahr' he said, "the most infuen-
tial names. They don't often call on
newcomers. suppose you impressed
them favorably yesterday. Sharp set
of fellows, too! You had better lose no
time in returning their civility."
IL will make my return calls this
aftornoon.p he said wcrmly. "Can
you give me an idea of the addressesP"
"No need. Everybody knows every
body here. You have only to ask. |
wish | could accompany you, but l
shall be busy this afternoon"
$50 shall l." said /, but we will
look in upon you later"
go! and stay to dinner, dorr re-
piled our young friend, and we readily
agreed.
TO one of us. as it happened, the Of
fer of dinner was not a thing to be
lightly treated.
We were not surprised when, at the
| proper hour, we made our appearance,
to see the young newcomer look weary
and depressed. He frightened when he
saw us.
$50 kind of you to comer' he said.
And presently: EITHER | must be stu
pid at understanding directions, or
everybody does not know everybody in
your settlement. Such a wild-gcose
chase as have had this afternoonp'
"Whatr' cried my friend with we'll
assumed surprise. "You didn't find
themP" And his voice so clearly COM
mented "You must be a foolish fell
lowr' that the young mans color rose.
=" ! must have another try he said.
" But was not this strange? 1 showed
one of the names to member of your
police force. He directed me to the
road leading out of the settlement, and
| walked on for about an hour, expect
| ing of course to reach some house.
All at once found myself at the ceme-
terry"
My friend laughed. THAT man
was wag; not doubt of it. However,
wait few days till you know the place
| better.n
As You may have guessed, more than
half the cards, dropped by our orders
at the young mans door, bore the
names of men either dead or departed.
But long time passed before he found
this out; he might never have found it
out at all, but for-however, must not
anticipate.
To give in detail the practical jokes
we played on our newcomer would be
impossible. One l must tell you, for
it very nearly had tragic ending.
Two or three of us had started with
him on shooting trip up the river.
1t had pleased one of us, his first friend,
to feign deep melancholy. from which
| our newcomer sought in vain to rouse
him. The young fellow spoke to me in
private on the subject. "Our friend" :"
he said, "ought to be watched. Men
in his state of mind have been known
to do strange things" l, of course,
encouraged his fear. We were neither
of us then much surprised when, one
evening, the melancholy man, after
hastily wringing our hands and muir
| muring that sit would be borne no
longer" leaped into the river What
| followed helped me afterward to under
stand the sequel of this story. Without
a moments hesitation that brave Young
fellow threw off his coat and boots, and
dived after his friend. He was not a
strong swimmer, however, and that lit
tie trick was near being our last. When
we tished him up he was half drowned
He rose i'll our estimation from that
moment, though it was not in the nat
ure of things that we could give up our
| diversion, and we were still plotting
against his peace, when hazard called
me away from our settlement to little
place at some distance. went will
ingly, for the house at which | was to
be entertained was presided over by a
young lady whom it always gave me
great pleasure to meet. She was the
daughter of the merchant went to see /;
bright, clever and intelligent girl,
and to my taste peculiarly handsome
| 1t had struck me, moreover-no harm
in confessing it now; there is an age,
you know. when we read volumes in a
Smile-it had struck me then that the
beautiful Eleanor Hartley had special
kindness for me.
But on this occasion it seemed to me
that something was wrong with Miss
Eleanor. She sustained her part in the
conversation only with effort. She
was languid and depressed.
This detestable climate is telling
on her, was my conclusion, and out
did myself in my efforts to be amusing.
At such times, as we know-if, that
is to say, we are not born takers, like
our friends of the Emerald Isle-there
comes the moment when everything is
used up. Neither joke, nor pun, nor
lively anecdote will visit the distressed
BRAIN. Nothing remains but to choose
between naked commonplace and
doleful silence. To me, one evening
at dinner, such moment came. Up
to that time (for our host was a silent
man) had done all the talking, and
Miss Eleanor's eyes had often mutely
thanked me. | could help her now no
longer. In the silence that followed
on this dreary conception she raised
her gentle voice. What plaintiff look
there was in her face! How hard she
was trying to be animated; and how |
felt for her! Happy thought! Had l
been alone | should have cut a caper
1t struck me all at once that l had not
yet told them about our newcomer, and
the tricks which we had played upon
him. This, if only properly managed,
would afford food for laughter and
amusement for days.