The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1882-12-06


smart gal, though, Ketury. Don'tpeed
no legacy to boost her along"
l should think not, !" remarked Mr..
Moreau.
SCOT history, Ketury has, !" went on
the landlord, whose name was Lemuel
Stiles. g litB = 42l' q
"Indeedr'
"Disapp'intedl said Mr.. Stiles.
Engaged to be married. Young man
give leg-baif and enlisted, and went to
Florida to fight the Injuns. And Ketury
she made vow."
"Never to marry?" asked Moreau,
quickly.
"No, to marry the first identickle
chap as axed her." retorted Mr.. Stiles,
with grin. sour gals up here in the
Adirondacks is plucky, they is. But
somehow Ketury never got the chance.
Fellers Is scarce in these parts, ye see.
You amt marrying man, be ye, stran-
gerp" with sudden speculative gleam
in his dull eyes.
Moreau smiled.
al might be, said he. ssIf you would
kindly give me letter of introduction
to Miss Spikes / believe will try my
luck with her. For, to speak the truth,
/ was exceedingly pleased with what
little l saw of her this morning."
"Sartin I will" said Mr.. Lemuel
Stiles. 'tAnd tell you what, stranger,
there amt many gals like my niece,
Ketury."
As Mark Moreau sat before the big
fire of logs, which the chilliness of the
September evening rendered not un-
comfortable, he smiled to himself with a
Mephistophelian satisfaction.
"At all events" he thought, "this
viii open the way to a pleasant little
Irritation. And, If worst comes to worst,
/ can but follow the example of the
Florida volunteer"
All that evening Mr.. Lemuel Stiles,
who, according to his own frank ad-
mission, was "not seholard," 'wrestled
with sheet of paper, a musty ink
bottle, and stump of a pen, and at
ten o, o,clock produced the following docu.
ment, not without a certain grave tri-
umph: raf4-t =a,FT
mark marc, who Wants q Wife, and you want
q Husband, and there's pare of you. From
your afectionate Uncle, to comand,
at guess that there'n do the busi-
ness" said Mr.. Stiles, with pardonable
pride, as he smeared out blot from the
loop of the l. with his coat-euff.
Mark Moreau glanced over it rather
obviously. ftEE tffsL
"If she wasn't such little beauty"
he thought, s'this would seem rather a
Quixotic enterprise. But those sap
phire-blue eyes wonld light man over
the very Tarpeian cliff"
And the next morning he proceeded
straight to the school-house.
ssBub!" he said, to a red-haired boy
who was shuf1iing his feet outside the
door, sis Miss Spikes withinPr
eJust Gomez said the boy. ssSchool
| amt in yet. Wants six minutes o. nine
yet. .-e-~- .tF.r.
s"G Give her this slip of paper. please,n
said our hero, sand tell her L am wait
ing outside"
Half minute later there was rush
like that of a buffalo, and tall, lean
female, with q scanty knot of fox-colored
hair screwed on the top of her head.
watery blue eyes. high cheek-bones, and
badly-itting false teeth, flung herself
on his shoulder, q Ia provincial thea
| tiers.
"When seen you go by the tavern
yesterday, / felt you was my counter
parti" sighed this gentle gazelle, with a
strong scent of fried onionsin her breath !;
ssbut little did dream as you were so
near me in soul. was a-setting on the
back-door step when you went a-past.
had the face-ache, and Fanny Dorel
she took charge of the school for me yes
terday."
"Fanny Dorelin This, then, was the
name of the gold-tressed divinity who
had taken his heart by storm. There
was misapprehension all around, and
Mark Moreau made haste to disengage
himself from Miss Keturah Spikes cling
ing arms. :,
hurriedly.
aNo, there ain't," said Miss Spikes.
"I supposed this letter was addressed
to Fanny Dorel, (" he pleaded.
ssIt says Keturah Spikes plain enough,
don't it?" said the lady, with Gathering
clouds upon her brow.
ssMy dear Miss Spikes" he began.
'sCan me Keturah," she smiled.
s'I see that I am intruding on. the
busiest part of your day." he urged.
"School teachin' aim nothin', when
the tenderest feelin's of the heart is
concerned" :" murmured the tall woman.
ssBut business is business," reasoned
our hero, artfully; Sand / shall see you
| this evening at your uncle's house. Un-
| til then, du reCoiri''
The school-bel clanged-Mr. Moreau
hurried away Miss Spikes returned
| with a softly -palpitating heart to her
books and Minerva succeeded
/ Cupid-and our hero plunged into the
woods, wiping his reeking brow.
aGood Jupiterl'' he muttered to him.
self; ssdoes that Gorgon believe that
there is man in the United States mad
enough to marry herp"
Miss Spikes sslet out school" early
that day, and hurried to the tavern with
out loss of time.
| ssWhere's Mr.. Moreau P" she breath
lessly demanded of her uncle.
"Gone,', said Mr.. Lemuel Stiles
s'bag and baggage, horse and foot. Sent
for his traps at eleven O'Clock, and took
the southwark bound train"
Miss Keturah wrung her hands.
"Oh, deari oh, deari ~ she gasped !;
sswhy did 1 ever lose sight of himp"
ssKeturah," said her uncle severely,
ssthat's the third husband you've let
Islipl begin TO think it's all your bad
management. And this was a dreadful
likely man, too"
i As for Mr.. Mark Moreau, he scarcely
dared to breathe freely until he was in
the Lake Champlain steamer.
He had merely intended to amuse
himself by little Irritation with a wood
land beauty but the matter had become
decidedly serious
And perhaps he needed the lesson.
Flirting young men sometimes do need
lessons. Saturday Night.