The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1882-09-30

X " ~ ~ al y Hare ana tlutter Of
prep Ntions q was c5i,sci0us of 81
syagiie feeling Of regret Wheneyer ]
tecallesl the aaies inonthspf Il, s. early
wifellood spent al Cherry Hill. Jatk
had seem e such : dl fferent person in
4 those days Strong ana steady and
eiffeliant and nov he seemed to
take as much pleasure In iife's frivol-
..ities as I did Withstiae foolish in
Inconsistency Of my sex. | sat down
| and cried over the consommation Of
1.-THE very hopes which / liad cherished
y Nt despite my tears our recep-
/ tssE'ssefit Csf, and ittnfned out stofse
a grand success. The best people in
town honored us with their presence,
and everything, thanks to Mrs. Van
borough's foresight, was carried out
in the most lavish and elegant man.
ner.
"By George" said Jack, "this sort
OF thing Is joller than the old farm.
see now, little wife, that you are
right, always right"
L would ten times rather he should
have upbraided me and blamed me
for what had done.
The winter that followed was eX-
ceedingly gay. We We're INVITED
everywhere, and our house was con-
stantly filled with guests. Balls,
sores, kettle drums and the opera
seemed to engross every hour. Jack
and l seldom had quiet moment to-
gether, yet he seemed to enjoy it all
with his own heart.
When spring came our last surplus
dollar had been expended, and we
were solely dependent on Jack s
monthly salary.
The warm weather came on and the
baby soon fell ill. 1 hoped day by
day that Jack would say something
about going back to his fathers for
the summer, but he did not even
hint of such thing.
The days grew longer and warmer.
The sun shown down with pitiIess
splendor and the paved streets seem
ed like heated brass.
Our fashionable friends futtered of
like summer swallows, and we were
left almost alone.
Couldn't you manage to make a
little trip to the seashore, my dear ?''
Mrs. Marlborough had suggested, and
Jack had caught at the idea with
eagernesS.
1--WE might, Nell, think we can.
I'll try to borrow few hundred
somewhere.
"Oh, Jack, no, no." sobbed out,
in my remorse and despair. 81
won't go to the seashore. You see
how i'll baby is. Oh, Jack, ask your
father to let us return home."
"Oh, you wouldn't be satisfied,
Nell, if we went back. 1t is deadfully
stupid down there these summer
days, with the hay making, and the
reaping, and all that sort of thing.
We should never be able to endure
it now"
I said no more. The long, bright,
burning days wore on, and our bills
ran up higher and higher, and hGby's
little breath seemed to grow weaker
and weaker, and poor Jack himself
began to look dreadfully i'll and
worn. And one afternoon he was
sent home in carriage, quite uncon-
scious, stricken down by a sudden
fever.
L put my pride aside then, and
wrote a letter to Jacks father.
Jack and baby are both ill.," ]
said, "and we are sick and tired o.
this life. Pray forgive us and let US
come home"
The very next day the dear old
gentleman arrived, but the bailiffs
and officers of the law were before
him. The rumor that we intended
to leave town had got out, and oul
creditors rushed in, anxious to secure
the lions Share of our effects. The
Brussels carpets, the handsome fur
nitnre, and costly bric-a-brac, all went
under the hammer at a disastrously
low figure.
"Never mind" said my father-in'
law, not shadow of reproach on his
kind old face "let them squabble
oyer it if they will. We must gel
, our sick home"
) So we got Jack into the carriage
and with his poor hot head on my
r knee, and baby in my arms, turn
) ed my back upon the scene of my
short-lived triumph.
, 1--WE are going back to Cherry
t Hill," said the old gentleman, as il
the dusk of the golden day we drove
} through the dewy stiffness of the