Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1883-06-08


letters, and confronted him with its ia
miliar address. Miss Carew thought
she had secured herself for all time by
burning Prue's letter, but she had
tossed the wrong envelope into the
CRATE. Austin Miller had lived his sor-
row over again after this discovery; he
had walked with IL and wrestled with il
without getting nearer happiness, and
had long ago made up his mind to do
without 1t. But he had thought IL duo
to Prudence Hildreth to send her word
that by an accident her letter had come
to hand five years too late; he said moth
ing of Letty's share in the matter, but
Prudence understood all. These memo
ries had been revived by Pruc's hasty
note asking him to forgive the children
for breaking up the pea-hen's nest!
Her children, tool He was at the point
of carrying the note to his lips, when
his eye fell upon his sermon, and he
threw it into the waste basket. He
looked at the clock; he had been idle
two whole hours. "Of what was he
thinkingp" he asked himself; "where
was he driftingp an anointed priest, the
example and counselor of sinnersP"
At least he could go and thank Prue
with clear conscicnce; as for the chill
dren, they were already in bed, techni-
cally speaking, and having such capi-
tai pillow fight that they agreed to get
into mischief every day of their lives,
and be punished.
After that Mr.. Miller often found
himself dropping in, on one pretext or
another, at The Elms; to ask Miss Prue
to play over the air of some new
psalmody, that he might join in the
congregational singing; to lend her the
latest volume of religious thought; to
beg advice about the children. Some
times he came bringing those unruly
infants, with their brown hands full of
peacock feathers and their little hearts
full of impenitence. They and the
peacock were now the best of friends;
he ate from their hands and endured
their petting, which was much like
punishment, with heroism; if he stayed
away they hunted him out and brought
him home in triumph.
"Those children might rs well live
here" said Jane.
And their father, too" added
John.
"Not bite of sweet-brcad can /
keep in the larder; and when they tears
their frocks they goes straight to Miss
Pruc, and she mends them before
Bridget scolds 'em, just as if they'd be
her very own"
A fine stepmother she'd be max
ing" observed John. " They do be
saying in the village that it's her cap
she is setting for the parson."
THAT'S just the way OF the gossips!
If a man takes to a woman it's always
she that is a-setting of her cap for him.
The parson ought to ask 'em to pick
out wife for him and suit their
selves"
"And then there's others who says
it's her money!" persisted John, who,
like fair historian, was bound to state
both sides; "an' that he come here
a-purpose to marry her."
"A great deal they knows about it."
cried Jane. II heerd him tell her, with
my own blessed ears, that when he was
called to this ere parish he never
dreamed that she lived here. They must
hev knowed each other, you see, when
they was young, afore Miss Prue came
into her great-uncle's property, and
came to live at The Elms; for 1 hear
'em talking now and again of folks that
don't belong hereabouts. And he says:
DO you remember the day we went
hither and the day we went yonP' And
he says: "I remember, l remember. ,
and looks away from her face. l thinks,
myself, he must be an old beau of hers.
sees them together heap, you know,
bringing in the tea-things, and the
lamps, and pottering 'round-n
'At the key-hole," laughed John.
"And I've never found 'cm love-
making onct, though 1 steps quiet-like,
John, as you know, and it isn't like
opening q door to push the portiere
aside.'
1t is true the Miller children were 4
great deal at The Elms, and gave theil
father frequent excuse to follow them
and it is true there were few congenial
souls in the parish or village, and what
so natural that he should see more OIL
less of his pleasant neighbor, with whom
he could journey back to the past. In.
deed, they never talked of to-day or to.
morrow; it was alway yesterday whose
praises they sang, whose skies they ex'
tolled, whose pleasures they coveted
He was nothing like lover, to be sure
except in preferring her society, and
yet it was happiness to Prue to see
him there, to know that he would come
tomorrow. 1t was toward night, one
summer day, that Miss Prue, looking
out on the lawn, where the shadows o
the leaves were dancing, saw Mr.. Miller
no unusual sight-coming toward hei
door. He had been out of town weel
on business; Bridget had confided tc
Jane that he had "gone away suddin
after telegraph in yaller wrapper
come to him. but he had been at homt
several days without darkening, or tc
express her feelings better, illuminating
Miss Prue's door. Naturally, she won
dered what his errand had been; if ht
had had call to leave the parish; ant
at that thought her heart stood still.
"You have been away" she said
after the first greetings.
"Yes. hope you did not suffer from
an invasion of young Millers during m.
ABSENCE"
"We met, but we missed you," sh,
admitted. ~ hope your vacation wa
a rest and recreation to you."
"My journey was not a pleasur,
trip, Prue," he said. "My wife diet
suddenly at the asylum on the 9th o
the MONTH"
Your wife!" gasped Miss Prue
"Your wife-died-o the 9th of tn,
month! Ithought-Austin = Mr.. Mil
lerII thought she had been dead year
and years."
81 thought you knew" he returned
II supposed, everybody had heard of it
it was too sad II story too rehearse Otter
or needlessly. 1t was in all the dailie
at the time. You must have beer
abroad then. Amy was in her. cradl
when Lefty left me-eloped with he
music-teacher. Two years ago sh,
went to the asylum, mad as Hamlet
Prue, Prue," he cried, "do you think
have hidden anything from youp /
not the loss of fifteen years of happines
enoughp Shall her ghost divide Il
stillP"
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