The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1879-05-08

hat she felt already acquainted with |
,fr. Phenix through her late husband, |
70 whom he had been 30 kind. She |
would never cease to be grateful for the /
many favors he had conferred upon |
lear Charles.
In the morning the worthy deacon
would have smiled inwardly at this
ELUSIVE panegyric. This afternoon he
hugged it like a poultice to his aching
heart. 1tsoothed his wounded self-love,
and inclined him toward his fair eulogist,
to whom he recounted pleasantanecdotes
Of her husbands boyhood. Indeed, he
made himself so agreeable that she was
rather sorry tn reach Churchville, where
the whole party were cordially welcomed
at the house of Mr.. Zenas Torrey.
Alas! what an Insignificant triae can
turn the scale Of human destinyl But
for a horses right forefoot Deacon
Ph0nix might have returned to his
home on the morrow as he had left it
a free man. 1t was the lame horse that
kicked 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 an acceptance, and almost before he
knew it Deacon Phenix had pledged
himself to escort the widow for life.
Next morning, thanks to the ungra-
cious weather, he was aroused by sciatic
tortures. To an elderly gentleman,
newly-betrothed to a blooming lady
greatly his junior, such an awakening
was peculiarly trying. He thought
ruefully of the early visit he had prom
ised Mrs. Vance. Should the pains in
crease, he must defer it indefinitely, or
limp into her presence on crutches-an
alternative too suggestive of advancing
age. Mrs. Dubbs afterward said she had
never seen him so nearly out of sorts, as
en- that evening when she took in his
mali. Among the letters was once that
caught his eye at once:
"DEAR FRIESD,-My poor tired father
is at rest. He was seized with paralysis
the morning after you left us, and passed
away painlessly in a few hours. How
little I anticipated this event when we
talked together! My hands were full
then; now they are very empty. My
work here is done. If you still believe
/ could make happy the kind friend
who has always been our benefactor, |
should be glad to see you.
"Yours, sincerely,
"OLIvE WAYNE"
Mr.. Phenix read this missive. re-read
it, shut it into 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 the gift for which he had so lately
sued? Must he thus humble her? He
writhed at the thought. Must he thu.
humble himself2 Bitterer than all, must
he relinquish this tried friend of life
time, having reached life's mature and
appropriate fruits, for the rhubarb and
greens of spring time? AlasI yes; ht
must fulfill his engagement, for was he
not an honorable man." He would
write at once to Olive candid state
ment of the case
But while he idled at his desk on the
morrow, Mr.. Torrey came to ask the
loan of horse till bis own should be in
running order, and the deacon laid dowr
his pen with sigh of relief.
Feeling that he ought to tell hi
brother-inlaw of his contemplated mar
riage, at dinner he led the conversation
back to the conference and Mrs. Vance
By-the-way, met the widow thi!
morning riding with John Vance," re
marked Mr.. Torrey, casually. "Yor
remember him-the brother to Charles
He's Just come from California, with
his pockets full"
"AhP
eyes. Shouldn't wonder if be tool
the widow. Some say they are eDgaget
already"
| OF course the deacon knew better thar
that, nevertheless he delayed his tende
confession. And he did not write tn
letter. Time enough for that after h.
had paid Mrs Vance the promised visit
The latter lady had certainly the frs
claim upon his attentions.
Unfortunately several days of torment
ing pain ensued, during which tn
deacon's patience was put to a prett'
severe test; but he was at last able t
seek the object of his hasty choice. FL
found her in her dooryard, playing
croquet with tall, well-dressed gentle
man.
$50 happy to see you, Deacon Pho
nixp cried she, with voluble embarrass
ment, "and so glad to introduce Mr.
Vance, dear Charles brother. DO com
in" tf 20 ii t - l-.
az hope my tardy coming does no
seem discourteous, Mrs. Vance," said be
in affable formality, while the strange
hastened to suddeuly-recalled engage
ment. az have not" .s--..
"No-oh no." broke in the widow
nervously.
"I have not been we'll. Otherwise
under our present interesting rels
tions-" 'f
"Oh, Mr.. PhenixI' interrupted she
throwing herself upon cricket at hi
feet. do you know, / am so afraid
am not the one to make you happy
And my friends say the discrepancy il
our ages is too great. Ought to MARI
againse their wishes?"
You must decide that question, dea
madam" responded the deacon, wit
suppressed eagerness. The finger o
Providence was in this. He held hi
breath to make sure which way it pointed
"Then if you don't mind very much
Deacon Phoenix, perhaps it Dould b
better for us to part as friends. Oh
dearl / hope you'll forgive me if Nv
done anything wrong"
The deacon hardly heard the closin
sentence for the glad beating of hi
heart. My dear child, you have don
quite right; / do not reproach you,
said he, with smile of infinite benevt
lence. at is natural that youth shoul
choose to wed with youth"
"And that age should wed with age,
he added, mentally, as, with an adie
almost paternal. he drove away in tn
direction of Miss Olives.