American citizen., 1879-02-22


man. 1t was the lame horse that kick
ed the beam and decided his fate. On
Friday morning, that meddling
quadruped having been found lamer
than ever, the Deacon could do no less
than offer to escort Mrs. Vance home.
She could do no less than to accept the
offer gladly. By some mysterious law
of sequences, this led to a second offer
and second acceptance, and almost
before he knew it Deacon Phonix had
pledged himself to escort the widow for
life. When, after gallantly depositing
his promised bride at her own door, he
was alone with his thoughts, he felt a
little surprised at his own precipitancy,
but he told himself over and over again
what a fortunate man he was, how hap
py he ought to be. Contrary to his
usual custom, he had acted from inn
pulse, and the result was highly salts
factory. "Highly satisfactory" he re-
peated to himself as he passed the en-
trance of the cross road which led to
Miss Olives. Somehow his reflections
were less cheerful after that. Perhaps
the chilly rain-storm just setting in de-
pressed him, or perhaps it was the emp
ty hearse that he met face to foce-for
the best of us have our superstitions.
Certain it is, that as he alighted from
his buggy that evening with WEAKNESS
of limb and limpness of linen, his coun-
tenance led Mrs. Dubbs to fear the
meetings had not been profitable.
Next morning, thanks to the un-
gracious weather, he was aroused by
sciatic tortures. To an elderly gentle
man, newly betrothed to blooming
lady greatly his junior, such an awak-
ening was peculiarly trying. He
thought ruefully of the early visit he
had promised Mrs. Vance. Should
these pains increase, he must defer it in
definitely, or limp into her presence on
crutches-an alternative too suggestive
of advancing age. Flattered as he was
by the widows acceptance, he could
not deny that it placed him in position
in some respects irksome. 1t admon-
ished him that he had no further right
to infirmities; that henceforth it was
his bounden duty to be as young as he
could. The reflection wearied him; the
clutching pain wearied him. Mrs. Dubbs
afterward said she had never seen him
so nearly out of sorts as on that even
the letters was one that caught his eye
at once.
| DEAR FRIEED-My poor tired father is at
rest. He was seized with paralysis the
morning after you left us, and passed away
painlessy in q few hours. How little 1 an
ticipated this when we talked together! My
hands were full then; now they are very
empty. My work here is done. II you
still believe 1 could make happy the kind
friend who mas always been our benefactor,
shall be glad to see you.
Yours, sincerely, OLIVE WAYNE.
Mr.. Ph0nix read this missive, re-read
it, shut it in the Book of Job safe from
prying Mrs. Dubbs, and drummed un-
easily on the closed Bible. What pre-
| dicament! Must he thrust back upon
Olive this gift for which he had so lately
suedp Must he thus humble her? He
writhed at the thought. Must he thus
humble himself? Bitterer than all,
must he relinquish this tried friend of a
| lifetimeP Having reached life's autumn,
must he reject its mature and appropri
ate fruits for the rhubarb and greens of
spring-time? Alas! yes; he must fulfill
his engagement, for was he not an
honorable manP' He would write
at once to Olive q candid statement of
| the case.
But while he idled at his desk on the
of horse till his own should be in run
ming order, and the Deacon laid down
his pen with sigh of relief.
Feeling that he ought to tell his broth
er-in-law of his contemplated marriage,
at dinner he led the conversation back
to the Conference and Mrs. Vance.
"By-the-way, 1 met the widow this
morning riding with John Vance," re-
marked Mr.. Torrey, casually. You
remember him-the brother next to
CharlesP He's just home from Califor-
mia, with his pockets full"
"Ah?''
"Yes. Shouldn't wonder if he took
the widow. Some say they're engaged
already"
OF course the Deacon knew better
than that; nevertheless, he delayed his
tender confession. And he did not write
the letter. Time enough for that after
he had paid Mrs. Vance the promised
visit. The latter lady had certainly the
first claim upon his attentions.
Unfortunately several days of tor
menting pain ensued, during which the
Deacon's patience was put to a pretty
severe test; but he was at last able to
seek the object of his hasty choice. He
found her in her door yard, playing cro-
quet with tall, well dressed gentle
man.
$50 happy to see you, Deacon Phe-
nix!" cried she, with voluble embar-
rassment, sand so glad to introduce
Mr.. Vance, dear Charles's brother. DO
come in"
"I hope my tardy coming does not
seem discourteous, Mrs. Vance," said
he, with affable formality, while the
stranger hastened to a suddenly recalled
engagement. "Ihave not
"No-oh no." broke in the widow,
nervously.
"I have not been well. Otherwise,
under our present interesting rela-