Weekly Trinity journal., 1879-03-08
THE WALK FOR A DOWERY

Done in this lie, reach far into the tomb 2"
1t was on All Saints eve, in the year
1867, that a stranger extremely well
dressed but pale and thin, as if in feeble
health, and accompanied by his servant,
stopped at the door of a respectable inn
in the town ofSchweidness. The servant
inquired if a comfortable room could be
procured, and, having been answered
satisfactorily. assisted his master to dis
mount. The gentleman was received at
the door by the host, who showed him
into the best apartments, while the hostess,
elated at the arrival of distinguished
looking guest, FASTENED to give orders for
his supper.
The large table was set for the evening
meal in the room below. A number OF
burghers from the town were feasting
around it, discussing, amid heavy
draughts of beer, the affairs of the city
ard the State, and the prospects of peace
or war. We leave them at their debates
to glance at what was passing in the large
old kitchen belonging to the establish
nrent.
The large chimney of the kitchen that
yawned like cavern was fanked on
either side by stone bench. On one of
these sat u young and beautiful girl
Her dress was OF coarse serge, and ILL
fitted but her graceful form, and face
shaded by prolusion of brown ringlets,
would have adorned the highest sphere.
NJ poets lay coEld have done more than
justice to tho beauty Of those large, dark
eyes now fixed on the ground, or the soft
round arms and white hand that rested
on her lap. Her spinning wheel was be
fore her, but i: stood idle, for sho was
absorbed ir thought. Presently a tear
giistened on The fringes of her eyelids and
slid slowly Gown her pale cheek
A young man, of handsome face and
figure, had entered the room unperceived,
and stood for moment gazing on the
detected girl. At last he came nearer,
and leaned over her atfactionately.
'In tears again, Margaret" whispered
he. Nay-look up, sweet one, and
smile, for there is now no cause for grief.
l will speak to my parents tonight"
"Oh, no, no !" cried the girl earnestly,
while she wrung her hands with an ex-
preston ofhopeless anguish. Do it not,
Franz Thy father will curse thee ; thy
mother will never pardon thy secret mar
riage with the poor maiden Be silent
Franz, till am dead. 1t Will not be
long till then, | am sure
No, Margaret" said Franz, can
not, will not be silent. | have met
with good fortune. am no longer de-
pendent on my father"
Good fortune Hast thou found a
treasure ?"
Not that but the Count, to whom,
the great forest Of W belongs, is IN
want ola forester. Old Gasp er, whom
so otter visited, as thou knowest, died
this morning. | said naught to thee,
beloved, of my hopes, while feared dis
appointment but now all is happiness.
The Count is pleased with me, and has
given me the place"
ALI, my husband, / would gladly re-
joice with thee I" answered the young
girl " but have not thy parents, who
know of thy kindness toward me. often
reproached me with my mean birth, as
well as my poverty? Would they not
ere now have sent me away but that the
inn needs an active damsel to serve the
guests with wine No, Franz. / have
prayed to be strengthened and my reso-
luton is fixed. They shall never know |
am thy wife until they are willing to
receive me as such ~
Leave all to me, Margaret" began
the young man but he was interrupted
by the opening of the door, and the en-
trance Of Dame Martha, his mother. =
Franz started back, and walked away in
dried her tears, and attempted, with
trembling hands, to disentangle her
thread. The confusion of both did not
escape the dame.
Shameless girl !" she exclaimed in
anger, wilt thou persist in talking with
my son us if thou vert his equal +?
Wouldst thou entrap the noble young
huntsman, the heir Of all we have, to wed
thee? Did he commit such folly, from
that hour | would disown him !"
"Spare me spare me - e1clsimed
the poor girl, clasplng her hands.
We have resolyed-hs father and L
that he shall wed ne damsel who cannot
bring him dover of hundred gold
pieces. Where is thy wealth, foolish
maiden %
Margaret only answered with tears.
swear to me, then, that thou wilt
hold no discourse with him till thou canst
bring me such a sum as thine own.-
Swear, or begoHe this instant !"
g. swear ~
The hostess gazed for moment into
her pale, sad face, and then resumed in
softer tone
at is well. / trust thee. Thsu hast
in truth good heart, and art good girl
| have naught against thy person but
like should match with like. The poor
must not aspire to be rich, nor one born
in shame to the son of honest parents"
The last reproacb, familiar as il was
from her lips, rent Margaret's heart
She left the kitchen and hastened to her
own little cham ber, where she wept and
sobbed long while, till called upon to
come forth and serve the guests.
The stranger, meanwhile having sup
ped in his own apartment, descended to
the dining hnn. and mined she comnany.