Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1882-03-18

our superstitions. Certain it is, that
as he alighted from his buggy that
evening with WEAKNESS of limb and
hmpness of linen, his countenance led
Mrs. Dubbs to fear that the meetings
had not been profitable.
Next morning, thanks to the I'M
gracious weather, he was aroused by
sciatic tortures. To an elderly gentle
man, newly betrothed to blooming
lady greatly his Junior, such an awaken
ing was peculiarly trying. He thought
ruefully of the early visit he had prom.
ised Mrs. Vance.
Should these pains increase, he must
defer it indefinitely, or limp into her
presence on crutches-an alternative too
suggestive of advancing age. Flattered
as he was by the widows acceptance.
he could not deny that it placed him in
a position in some respects irksome. Ii
admonished him that he had no further
right to infirmities that henceforth il
was his bounden duty to be as young as
he could.
The reflection wearied him, the clutch.
afterward said she had never seen him
so out of sorts as on that evening when
she took in his mail Among the letters
was one that caught his eye at once. 1t
was as follows:
DEAR FRIEND: My poor, dear
father is at rest. He was seized with
paralysis the morning after you left us,
and passed away painlessly in few
hours. How little expected this event
when we talked together Nv hands
were full then now they are very
empty. My work here is done. If you
still think 1 can make happy the kind
friend who has always been our
benefactor, l should be glad to see
you. Yours sincerely,
"OLIvE WAYNE"
Mr.. Phoenix read this missive, reread
1t, shut it in the book of Job safe from
prying Mrs. Dubbs, and drummed un-
easily on the closed Bible. What
predioament Must he thrust back
upon Olive this gilt for which he had
so lately sued Must he thus humble
himself? Bitterer than all, must he re-
huquish his tried friend of n lifetime
Having reached life's autumn must he
reject its mature and appropriate fruits
for the rhubarb and green's of spring
time? Alas yes; he must fulfill his en-
gagement, for was he not an honor
able man 2" He would write at once to
Olive candid statement of the case.
But while he idled at his desk on the
morrow, Mr.. Torrey came to ask the
loan of horse till his own should be in
running order, and the deacon laid his
pen down with sigh of relief
Feeling that he ought to tell his
brother-in-law of his contemplated mar
liage, ut dinner he led the conversation
back to the Conference and Mrs.
Vance
"By-the-way, / met the widow this
morning riding with John Vance" re-
marked Mr.. Torrey, casually. "You
remember him, the brother next to
Charles? He's just come home from
California with his pockets FULL"
"Ah."
eyes. Shouldn't wonder if he took
the widow. Some say they are engaged
already"
OF course the deacon knew better
than that nevertheless, he delayed his
tender confession. And he did not
write the letter. Time enough for that
ised visit The latter lady certainly had
the first claim upon his attentions.
Unfortunately several days of tor
menting pain ensued, during which the
deacon's patience was put to severe
test but he was able at last to seek the
object of his hasty choice.
He found her in the door yard playing
croquet with tall, well dressed gentle
man.
$50 happy to see you, Deacon
Phoenix - cried she, with voluble en-
barrassment, "and so glad to introduce
MIR. Vance, dear Charless brother. Do
come in"
81 hope my tardy coming does not
seem discourteous, Mrs. Vance," said
he, with affable formality, while the
stranger FASTENED to suddenly re-
called engagement. 81 have not .
No-oh, no." broke in the widow,
nervously.
81 have not been well. Otherwise,
our present interesting relation"
"Oh, Mr.. Phoenix y interrupted she,
throwing herself upon a cricket at his
feet. ''Do you know, 1 am afraid I am
not the one to make you happy? And
my friends say that the discrepancy in
our ages is too great. Ought to marry
against their wishes ?"
"You must answer that question, my
dear madam responded the deacon,
with suppressed eagerness. The finger
of Providence was in this. He held his
breath to make sure which way it
pointed.
"Then, if you don't mind very much,
Deacon Phoenix, perhaps it would be
better for us to part as friends. Oh,
dear l hope you'll forgive me if I
have done anything wrong"
The deacon was greatly pleased with
the turn affairs were taking, but did
not rake any expression that showed
his satisfaction.
He simply replied:
Madam, perhaps we had better not
refuse the guidance of Providence. and
it seems as though the way was made
clear to us just in time to prevent our
stepping into the wrong path. l there
fore accept your decision, and we will
part as you say, friends"
1t is needless to say how promptly
the deacon acted upon the suggestion
in Olive Wayne's letter, because every
masculine reader knows how quickly he
would have presented himself, too, had
ha bann in n eip,iIar cituo4;nn. I,,.t ~