The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1879-05-08
OUR STORY TELLER
A Hair-Breadth Escape.


All the neignbors agreed with his house
keeper in that particular. He had
waited upon his fussy invalid wife for
thi,ty years, making her as happy as
she would let him; and when her sum
mons came. he had closed her dying
eyes tenderly, saying, even with tears:
Poor sufferer, she is better Off
That he was better off he never hinted,
by word or look. He wore his widower's
weeds with sad decorum; he reared in
memory Of the departed Lucinda a
monument which the most fastidious
deceased might have envied he grieved
faithfully for the full allotted year of
mourning.
But it was not of the conference he
was thinking that fragrant June morn
ing as he whirled away, tucking the lap
robe well about his glossy new broad
cloth. For oncs in his life he did not
mean to go straight to meeting; it was
his willy intention TO make wide circuit,
and call on Miss Olive Wayne in the
town Of Chester.
Pretty, cheerful Olive! How fond he
had been OF her, years ago, when she al
tended his school II he had not then
been in love with Lucinda, he was sure
he should have fallen in love with her,
mere child though she was. He had
never lost sight of her, and he thanked
Providence that he had been enabled by
money and influence to help her family
over some hard places. Please God, the
dear girl should henceforth have an
easier life. Grill Why, little Olive
must be about fiftyl The good deacon
laughed at the amusing recollection.
Well, she would always seem young to
him. And as for himself, at sixty odd
he was hale man yet.
In these cogitations the morning
passed, and noon found Deacon Phoenix
at the little hotel in Chester. Impatient
Of delay, after hasty dinner he set out
almost Immediately for the Wayne home
stead. Arrived at the gate, he spied
Miss Olive at the window, and alighted
with youthful agility not altogether
prudent in a man who had twinges of
sciatica. And dyet-strange Inconsistency
Of human nature e!-he dallied at the
hitching-post, and afterward, with his
hand on the very knocker, he paused to
acan the distant horizon, as though he
had come mainly for a view Of the
mountains. Miss Olive opened the door,
her cheeks flushing like late October
peaches. She was an attractive woman,
not uuversed Ia lovers ways.
Happy TO see you, Mr.. Phenix.
Walk in,' said she flurriedly, ushering
him into the sittipg-room, where her
aged father dozed in his armchair.
Who is Il, Oliver said the old
gentleman, waking with bewildered
stare.
"Mr. Phoenix, father. You remem-
ber Mr.. Phnnix, I'm sure"
81 don't know as I do" said he,
querulously, fumbling with the guests
ou.stretched hand. whats he come
for, Oliver
The deacon looked as il he was sud-
denly feeling the hot weather; Miss
Olive was positively feverish, but she
deftly evaded the troublesome question
by diverting her fathers attention. His
peppermint tea was ready-would he
not drink il? As she lowered about the
invalid, Strengthening his fontstool, ar
ranging his pillows, steadying the cup
while he drank, Mr.. Phoenix regarded
her admiringly. How young she seemed
still Not gray thread in her golden
hair; scarcely a wrinkle in her face.
That was because of her excellent dis.
position. He waited till she had soothed
the old man into slumber, then in a
direct manly way introduced the subject
that lay next his heart.
Miss Olive interrupted him by an
eloquent glance toward her father.
He is very childish and dependent
lie cannot do without me-
Let me help you care for him, Olive
my house is large, my means are ample.
couldn't, Mr.. Phenix-it is like
your generosity TO propose such thing
but couldn't have him a burden upon
you"
"Why, bless your soul, Olive, do you
suppose / should consider a friend oi
yours a burden"
"You don't know how trying pool
father would he to anybody but his OWE
daughter, and / think he is likely te
live 70 great age, as grandfather did,
For that very reason, then"
Besides, it would make him wretcheJ
TO take him from the old homestead"
But, Olive"
80 you see Pm engaged, Mr.. Phoenix, >
said Miss Olive, playfully, while she
whisked away n tear. "Pm engaged
You must marry some lady who isn't
And hope you'll be as happy as yor
deserve TO be-" she added with a littl,
tremor. springing up to adjust thu
curtain.
In vain he tried to bend her to hi
wishes; she remained outwardly as firm
as the hearthstone at her feet, till q
length he arrived at the unwelcome con
viction that she had no liking for him
or she would have listened to his plead
ings. She had interposed the old gentle
man merely as sort of cushion to softel
the blow Of ber rejection.
Hardly conscious of the reins, he ha,
driven some miles at an unsanctiie,
pace, when he almost ran over MI
Torrey, brother of the deceased Lucinds
who was walking behind his carriage u
long ascent.
"Going 10 conferenceT asked tha
gentleman. after an exchange of gree
ings. "Didn't you come roundabout
wayT ,
candor "a roundabout way and har
wav. Is your wife with your
eyes; and the widow Vance. hay
10 foot it up hill, you see. Horse stel
ped on rolling stone back a piece an
iamed himself.'
"Your load is too heavy; let sistt
Torrey ride with me-"
But sister Torrey being nervous, lii
Lucinda before her, and mortally afrai
OF the deacon's spirited steed, IL was
the end Mrs. Vance who nestled in
the vacant seat. She was q gushir
young widow whose .mitigated gri
manifested itself in certain coquettii
bsws Of pale lavender. She protests