Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1879-07-16
Mary Moore.

old playmates and first cousins. Ny first
| recollections are of boy in red frock and
morocco shoes, rocking a cradle, in which
| reposed a sunny-haired, blue-eyed baby, not
quite year old. The boy was myself
Harry Church that baby was Mary Moore.
Later still | see myself in an old school
house, drawing my little chaise up to the
door that Mary might ride home. Many
| beating have gained on such occasions, for
| other boys besides me liked her and she |
| fear was something of a hirt, even in her
pinafore. How she came tripping down
| the steps when | called her name how
| sweetly her blue eyes looked at me- how
gayly rang out her merry laugh No one
but Mary could ever bring her heart so near
her lips. | followed tina. laugh from my
days Of childhood till grew to an awkward,
blushing youth | followed it through the
heated noon of manhood and now, when
the frosts of age are silvering my hair, aud
many children climb upon my knee and call
me father" find that the memories OF
youth are very strong, and even in gray
hairs I'm following the music still.
When / was fifteen the first great sorrow
of my life came upon my breast. was sent
to school, and was obliged to part with Mary.
We were not to see each other for three long
years. This to me was like a sentence of
death, for Mary was life to me. But hearts
are taught things after all.
left college in the flush of my nineteenth
year. | was no longer awkward or en-
barrassed | had grown into a tall, slender
STRIPPING, with very good opinion of my
self, both in general and particular. l
thought of Mary Moore. 1t was to think
how could dazzle her with my good looks
and wonderful mental attainments, and
never thinking she might dazzle and be-
wilder me still more. | was coxcomb, l
know, but as youth and good looks have fled,
trust that / may be believed when l say
that self-conceit has left me also.
An advantageous offer was made me at
that time, and accepting it, gave up the
idea of a profession, and prepared to go
to India. In my hurried visit home of two
days l saw nothing of Mary Moore She
| had gone to boarding-school at some dis
| tance, and was not expected home until the
following May. | uttered sigh to the
memory of my little blue-eyed playmate,
and then called myself "a man again.
| In year, l thought, as the vehicle
whirled away from the door, will return,
and if Mary is as pretty as she used to be,
why, then perhaps may marry her.
| And thus | settled the future of young
lady whom | had not seen for four years.
I never thought of the possibility Of her
refusing me-never once dreaming that she
| would not condescend to accept my offers.
But now know that had Mary met me she
would have despised me. Perhaps in the
scented and affected student she might have
found plenty of sport; but as to loving me,
| should have perhaps found myself mis-
taken. India was my salvation, not merely
because of my success, but because my
laborious industry had counteracted the evil
of my nature, and had made me better
man. When at the end of three years
prepared to return, | said nothing of the
reformation of myself, which l knew had
taken place. They loved me as | was, l
murmured to myself, and they shall find
out for themselves whether | am better
worth loving than formerly.
picked up many token from that land
of romance and gold for the friends hoped
to meet. The gift l selected for Mary
Moore, with beating heart, was ring of
rough virgin gold, with my name and hers
engraved inside, That was all, vet the
sight of the little toy strangely thrilled me
as balanced it on the tip OF my finger.
To the eyes of others it was but small
circle, suggesting thoughts, perhaps, by its
elegance, of the beautiful white hand that
was to wear it. But to me how much was
embodied there-all these delights were
hidden within that little ring of gold.
Tall, bearded and sun-bronzed, knocked
at my fathers house. The light in the par
lor window and the hum of conversation
and cheerful laughter showed me that CON-
pany was assembled there. hoped that my
sister Lizzie would come to the door, and
that / might greet my family when no
strange eye was looking carelessly on. They
were too merry in the parlor to heed the
summons for admittance of the long-absent
one. A bitter thought like this ran through
my mind as heard the sound from the par
lor, and saw the half-suppressed smile on
the servants face.
hesitated moment before making my
self known or inquiring for any of my fam
lily. And while | stood silent strange ap
partition grew up before me; from behind
the servant peered out golden head, a tiny
delicate form and sweet childish face anc
blue eyes, so like those of one that had
frightened my boyhood that | started witt
a sudden feeling of pain.
"What is your name my pretty 2" asked
} |, as the wondering servant held the door.
"Mary Moore"
: Sand what else ?" / asked, quickly.
She lifted up her hands to shade her face
, Il had seen that very attitude in another
, in my boyhood, many and many time
and whispered in a sweet, bird-like voice
"Mary Moore Chester"
My heart sank down like lead. Here wa
. an end to all my bright dreams and hope
of my youth and boyhood. Frank Chester
my boyish rival, who had often tried in vail
to usurp my place beside the girl, had sue
D ceeded at last, and had won her away from
. me. This was their child-his child an'
t Mary's.
| sank, body and soul, beneath this blow
D and, hiding my face in my hands, leane,
D against the door, while my heart wept tear
g of blood. The little one gazed at me
9 grieved and amazed, and put up her prett
d hands as if about to cry, while the perplexe'
e servant stepped to the parlor and called m
o sister out to see who it was who conducts
s himself so strangely, heard light steI
D and pleasant voice saying:
. "Do you wish to see my father, sir ?"