The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1881-02-03
He isyery childish and dependent.

Let me help you care for him,
Olive; my house is large, my means
are ample =
81 couldn't, Mr.. Phenix-it is like
| your generosity to propose such a
thing; but couldn't have him bur.
| den upon YOU
"Why, bless your soul, Olive, do you
suppose should consider a friend of
yours a burden?''
"You dom know how trying poor
father would be to anybody but his
daughter, and I think he is likely to
live toa great age, as grand father did. 2
For that very reason, then
Besides, it would make him
wretched to take him from the old
homestead
| s'But, Olive .
$50 you see I'm engaged, Mr.. Phe-
| nix, said Miss Olive, playfully, while
shewhisked away tear. ssI'm engaged.
You must marry some lady who ism t.
And I hope you'll be as happy az you
deserve to be- she added with little
tremor, springing up to adjust the
curtain.
In vain he tried to bend her to his
wishes; she remained outWardly as
firm as the hearthstone at her feet, till
at length he arrived at the unwelcome
conviction that she had no liking for
him, or she would have listened to his
pleadings. She had interposed the old
gentleman merely as sort of cushion
to soften the blow Of her rejection.
If he took a smiling leave it was be-
cause pride tugged at his facial mus
cles, for to tell the truth, he had never
been so disappointed and chagrined in
his life. Of what avail the stylish
equipage upon which he had once
| plumed himself? Was it not bearing
him to the tomb? And why should he
wish to prolong this earthly pilgrim
age? What further attractions had
life for him, a lonely old man nearly
seventy.
Hardly conscious of the reins he had
driven some miles at an unsanctifed
pace, when he almost ran over Mr..
Torrey, brother of the deceased Lucin-
da, who was walking behind his car
| riage up a long ascent.
'''Going to conference?'' asked that
gentleman, after an exchange of greet
ings. Didn't you come a roundabout
| ways -
ssI'm inclined to think did, as
sented the deacon, with a prodigious
show of candor. "a roundabout way
and a hard way. Is your wife with
you?''
:sYes, and the widow Vance. have
to foot it up hill, you see. The horse
stepped on a rolling stone back piece
and famed himself"
"Your load is too heavy; let Sister
Torrey ride with me-
But Sister Torrey being nervous,
like Lucinda before her, and mortally
afraid of the deaconss spirited steed,
it was in the end Mrs. Vance who
nestled into the vacant seat. She was
gushing young widow whose mitigat-
ed grief manifested itself in certain
coquettish bows of pale lavender. She
protested that she felt already ac-
quainted with Mr., Phoenix through
her late husband, to whom he had
been so kind. She was SO glad of this
opportunity to thank him. She would
never cease to be grateful for the
many favors he had conferred upon
dear Charles, etc.
In the morning the worthy deacon
would have smiled inwardly at this
ELUSIVE panegyric. This afternoon
he Rugged it like poultice to his ach-
ing heart. 1t soothed his wounded
self-love, and inclined him toward
his fair eulogist, to whom he recount
ed pleasant anecdotes of her husband g
boyhood. Indeed, he made himself SO
agreeable that she was rather sorry to
reach Churchville; where the whole
party were cordially welcomed at the
house Of Mr., Zenas Torrey.
"A prOud man man was Mr.. Phoenix.
He would not for the world have had
his recent disappointing suspected by
his wife's relatives, and during those
three days of Conference he carried
himself with a resolute cheerfulness
that sonetimes-out of meeting, of
course-verged upon freshness. Mrs.
Vance told Mrs. Zenas Torrey that he
was just "splendid,'' which compli-
ment Mrs. Torrey repeated to him with
a significant smile, limiting that if he
thought of marrying again he need not
search far for wife. He looked con.
fused, and holly disclaimed any matri.
monial intention. AS to the young wild.
ow, was he not double her age? Would
NAO JOAAA ACllOO uAOA OCCCUlUCI:
Alas! what an Insignificant trife
can turu the scale of human destiny!
But for horses right fore-foot Dea.
con Phoenix might have returned tc
| his home on the morrow as he had left
ia free man. It was the lame horse
that kicked the beam and decided his
fate. On Friday morning that med
ding quadruped having been found
lamer than ever, the deacon could do nc
less than offer to escort Mrs. Vance
home. She could do no less than te
accept the offer gladly. By some
mysterious law of sequences, this lee
to a second offer and second &C
ceptance, and almost before he knew
it Deacon Phoenix had pledged him
self to escort the widow for life. When
after CALAMITY depositing his promised
bride at her own door, he was alone
with his thoughts, he felt a little sur
prised at his own precipitancy; but hi
told himself over and over again wha
a fortunate man he was, how happy hi
ought to be. Contrary to his usual Gus