The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, 1879-02-18
THE WIDOWS FRENCHMAN (;
Or
ALL is FAIR IN LOVE.
IS oh, WHAT a handsome man !"
oried Mrs. Hunter. &C and such

charming foreign accent too"
Mrs. Hunter was widow - rich.
childless, fair and thirty-fve : and she
made the remark above recorded to Mr..
Bunting, bachelor, who had come to pay
an afternoon call, apropos of the depart
ure of Prof La Fontaine, who had,
according to the etiquette, taken his
departure on the arrival of Mr.. Bunt-
ing.
Don't like to contradict a lady,"
said Mr.. Bunting, "but l can't say
agree with you; and these foreigners are
generally impostOrs, too"
Mrs. Hunter shook her head coquet-
tlshly.
She was rather coquettish and rather
gushing for her age.
"Oh, you gentlemen you gentle
men |" she said "I can't see that you
ever do justice to each other"
And then she rang the bell and order
ed the servants to bring tea, and pressed
Bachelor Bunting to stay to partake
of it.
There was a maiden aunt of eighty in
the house, to play propriety, and allow
her the privilege of having as many
bachelors to tea as she chose, and Mr..
Bunting forgot his jealousy, and was
once more happy.
He was, truth to tell, very much in
love with the widow, who was his jun
ior by fifteen years.
He liked the idea of living on the
interest of her money, too.
She was splendid housekeeper and
a fine pianist.
She was popular and good looking.
He intended to offer himself for her
acceptance as soon as he felt sure that
she would not refuse him.
But this dreadful Professor La Foun-
taine, with black eyes as big as saucers,
and long side -whiskers-black also as
any ravens wing-had the advantage of
being the widows junior.
This opportunity to make fool of
herself, is SO irresistible to every widow.
1t troubled his dreams good deal
not that he thought him handsome.
Oh, no
But still at fifty a man does not desire
a rival, however he may despise him.
''Sbe did not ask him to stay, and she
did ask me-" said Mr.. Bunting, and de-
parted, after most delightful evening,
during which the maiden aunt (who was
at best, as deaf as post) snored sweetly
in her chair.
But, alas ON the very next evening
his sky was overcast.
Professor La Fontaine took the widow
to the opera.
He saw them enter the doors of the
opera house, and, having followed and
secured seat in retired portion of the
house, also, noticed that the Professor
kept his eyes fixed upon the lady's face
in the most impressive manner, during
the whole of the performance, and that
glances.
" 1t can't go on" said Mr.. Bunting to
himself. IL can't allow it. She'd re-
gret it all her life. l must demonstrate
with her. No woman likes coward.
Faint heart never won fair lady. She'll
admire me for speaking out"
And that very evening Mr.. Bunting
trotted up to the widows, full ofa deadly
purpose, and with set speech learned
off by heart.
The speech he forgot as he crossed the
threshold.
The purpose abided with him.
There were the usual remarks about
the weather.
The usual chitchat followed, but the
widow saw that Mr.. Bunting was not
at his ease,
AT last, with the sort of plunge that
a timid bather makes into chilly water,
he dashed into the subject nearest his
heart.
" He's rascal, ma'am, give you
my word"
"oh, dearl Who is ?" cried the
widow.
mat Irog-eater, replied the bachel-
or. Upon my soul, | speak for your
own good. 1 am interested in your wei.
fare. Don't allow his visits. You don't
know thing about him."
do you allude TO Monsieur La Fon-
taine :" asked Mrs. Hunter, solemnly.
81 allude to that fellow" said bach
elor Bunting. "Why, his very counte-
nance proves him to be rascal, I'D