Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1879-05-08
Selected Story.
NV Grandfather's Clock.


ing the hour of 9.
1t was no smart toy, no trife of bronze
or alabaster, but tall, square, solid rel
ic of the last century, looking not unlike
a cofin-case set on one end, in the cor
ner-a clock that had lasted through
four generations, and judging from APP
pearances was quite likely to last thro'
several more Deacon SherIner cherish
ed the old heirloom with sort of pride
which he himself would scarcely have
confessed to.
There was great, ruddy fire of chest
nut logs in the red bricked fireplace, and
the candles in the highly polished brass
sticks were winking merrily from the
high, wooden mantel, where they shared
the post of honor with a curious sea-
shell and couple of vases, each contain
ing fresh Usage orange, from the hedge
that skirted the clover-field behind the
barn.
At the window, curtain of gaudy
chintz shut ont the tens of thousands of
stars that were shining so brightly ON
that frosty autumnal night, and on the
coy rug of parti-colored rags tortoise
shell cat purred away the slowly lapsing
minutes. But the tortoise-shell cat was
kitchen.
Timothy" said Mary Shermer, deci-
dedly, "if you don't behave yourself,
I1l"-
What she would do, Mary did not say
the sentence was terminated by laugh
that set the dimples around her mouth
in motion, just as beam of June sun
shine plays across cluster of red ripe
cherries.
Mary Shermer was just nineteen,
plump, rosy girl, with jet hair, brushed
back from a low forehead, and perfectly
arched eyebrows, that gave bewitching
expression of surprise to a pair of melt
ing hazel eyes. She was rather dark, but
the severe critic would not have found
fault with the peach-like bloom upon her
cheeks, and the dewy red of her full,
dainty curved lips. Evidently Mr.. Tim
othy Marshall was quite well satisfied
with Mary's style of beauty.
Come, Mary" said Tim, moving his
chair where he could best watch the
flash of the freight upon her face, and
picking up the thread of the converse
tion where he had dropped it when it be-
came necessary for Mary to bid him "be-
have himsel; )" "you might promise. It's
o'clock, and your father will soon be
home"
what, Tim?" said Mary, demurely
fitting square of red in her patchwork,
and intently observing the effect.
Nonsense, Mary! You know what
very well. Promise to marry me before
Christmas. 1 tell you what, Mary, it's
all very well for you to keep putting it
off, but I can't stand it. With your
fathers forbidding me the house, and the
romantic Stanley coming here every
Sunday night
Mary gave her pretty head toss.
"As if Mr. Stanley's coming here made
any difference in my feelings, Timl"
No; but, Mary, it isn't pleasant, you
know. I'm as good a man as Tom STAN
ley, if don't own railroad shares and
keep an account at the Hamiltonville
Bank; and love you, Mary, from the
bottom of my heartl Now, this matter
lies between you and me only; no other
person in the world has a right to inter-
fere between us. Come, promise me-"
He held both her hands in his, and
looked earnestly into the liquid hazel
eyes.
"Do you love me, Mary?"
you know love you, Tim"
"Then we may just as well-hush!-
what's the noise?"
There was portentous sound of draw
ing bolts and rattling latches in the
porch room beyond-a scraping of heavy
boots along the floor. Mary rose to
her feet with sudden scarlet effusion
upon her brow and cheek.
20, Tim, it is father
Suppose it is 2
"But he mustn't find you here, Tim!
Hide yourself somewhere, dor
what nonsense, Maryp said the
young man, resolutely standing his
ground. l have not come to steal his
spoons. Why should [ creep away like
a detected burglar?"
For my sake, Tim! Oh, Tim, if ever
you loved me do as 1 sayl Not in the
closet, it is too close to his bedroom
not through that window, it's nailed
down tight; he's comingl-Here, into
my grandfather's clock, quick, quickr
In the drawing of a breath, she push
ed Timothy Marshall into the square
pendulum case of the clock, and turned
the key on him. 1t was not pleasant |
place of refuge, inasmuch as his should |
ers were squeezed on either side, and his |
head flattened against springs and
wheels above, and the air was disagree
able and close; but Tim made the best
of matters, and shook with suppressed |
laughter in the solitary prison cell.
WELL jolly scrape to be in" thought |
Tim, mot knowing when I'll be out of
it. Mary's shrewd little pusS, hOwev- |
er, and can't do better thap to leave
matters in her hands"
80 you haven't gone to bed yet, Mary ?" |
said Deacon Shermer, slowly unwinding |
the two yards of woolen scarf with |
which he generally encased his throat |
during the evening.
Not yet, father" said Mary, picking |
up her bits of patchwork, with glow
ing cheek. did you have pleasant |
meeting"
"Well, yes" quoth the deacon, refiec- |
lively, sitting down before the fire,great-
ly to Mary's consternation-she had |
hoped he would have gone to bed at |
once, accordingt to his usual custom-"it |
was torbly pleasant. Elder Hopkins
-and-well, all the church folks |
pretty much. Why, how red your cheeks |
are, Nary Tired, amt you? Well, |
you needn't set up for me, my dear; it |
must be getting late"
The deacon glanced mechanically up
to the clock. Mary felt the blood grow
ing cold in her veins.
Twenty minutes past nine-why, it
mnst be later than thatl Why, land o
Canaan, the old clock has stopped; = nor
was it at all wonderful under the cir
cumstances. 81 wound it up this morn
ing, am sartin," said the deacon, very
much disturbed. 1t never sarved me
such trick before, all the years it has
stood there. Your aunt Jane used to
say that it was the sign of death or MARI