The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1883-03-24
AUTUMN BLOSSOMS.

rudely or discour;eously in my life
As nearly as ! know, it was in this
wise:
My father died, leaving a family of
children, wife, and an old father and
mother, of whom only myself was able
to earn 4 shilling. He had never saved
anything.
So, after the first grief, when we had
calmed down, and were able to look
matters quietly in the face, there was a
wretched sort of prospect for us. Twas
only an accountant and had young fel-
lows way OF wasting my small salary in
a thousand different ways. had been
''paying attention" TO Elsie Hall, who,
young and childish as she was, had a
way of leading her admirers into extrav-
agance. or all the trials of that never
- be-for-gotten time, think the great.
est was appearing to be niggardly in
those baby blue eyes. | did not mind
wearing plain suits, discarding kid
gloves, and rcnouncing the opera but
not to lay those bouquets, and books,
and music, and dainty bits of jewelry,
and multiiudinous trifles at Elsie'S feet,
was terrible ordeal passed through /;
and il ever a man had reason to be
thankful had, for the acquisitive little
beauty Tilted me in 4 month Tor Tom
Tandem, who was rich and lavish Of
gifts, and who ran away from her, after
a marriage Of ten months.
worked night and day, and managed
to keep the wolf from the door.
Sometimes | used to think how well it
was for Elsie that she had not really
loved me, for she could have had moth
ing but dismal prospect Of wearing
out her youth in dreary, hopeless
engagement to one too poor to marry.
That was until Tom ran of. Then ]
thought it would have been even far
better for her TO have shared our humble
l-.zsr--snd poor fare, and the love !
could havegiven her, than to be deserted
so. And pi,ied her, as il she had
not proven herself heartless. But
never went near her, Of course, and
never even spoke Of her to my mother.
grew no younger all this while,
and every year seemed to add five years
to my looks. had never been hand
some or very merry, and soon became
conscious Of 4 peculiar, middle-aged
look, which settles down upon some
people very early.
Strangers, too, began to take me for
the head Of the family; and once, in a
new neighborhood, the butcher alluded
to "my wife," found that he mean,
my mother, and only wondered that il
was not dear old grannic.
She was eighty, grandfather ninety,
and they died one bright autumn day
before prosperity came to us, died
within an hour OF each other-for
grannie just said, al think I'll lie down
bit now Lemuel don't need me. I'm
very tired"
T-Then she kissed me and said, you've
been good boy to your grandma, Ed
ward. You'll have that to think of"
And when We next looked at her she
was dead, with her hand upon her cheek
like sleeping child.
So two were gone, and we were sad
der than before. And then Jean, m,
eldest sister, married at sixteen aphysi
clan, who carried her off TO Hindoostar
in her honeymoon.
And We could none Of feel the wed
ding happy thing.
But prosperity did come at last.
had worked hard for it, and anything :
man makes his sole object in this life
he is very sure to attain.
We were omfortablc-casy. All
what word that is after years Of strug
glel At last, we were rich. But b,
that time was five and forty-a large
dark, middle aged man, with a fac,
that looked to myself in the glass as
though it were perpetually intent or
figures. The girls were married. Dicl
had taken tn the sea. and we saw him
once year or so; and Ashton was Al
home with mother and myself-th,
only really handsome member Of oul
family, and just two and-twenty. And
il was on his birthday, / remember
that the letter came to me from pool
Hunter.-that letter which began: "Wher
these lines reach you, Ned Sandford,
shall have my six feet Of earth-all
ever owned, or would il had lived &c
be hundred"
We had been young together, though
he was really older than |, and we hac
been close friends once; but a rowing
fit had seized him, and we had not me-
for years. knew he had married 8
young Kcntish girl, and knew no more
but now he told me that she was dead
and that his death would leave hi.
daughter an orphan.
"She is not quite penniless," he
wrote, "for her mother had a little
income, which. poor as / was, I wa.
never brute enough to meddle with
and IL has descended to her. But
ihave been a rolling stone, gathering
no moss all my life, and we never stayed
long enough in one place to make
friends. Will you be her GUARDIAN i
Is dying mans last request"
And then he wrote some words
coming from his heart, knew, which
being Of myself, l could not think tina
deserved them.
| And the result of that letter, ans
another from the lawyer who had Anni'
Hunters little fortune in charge, wa
that one spring day found me on boai'
great steamer, which lay at rest afte
her voyage in the protecting arms o
Liverpool, with two little hands in mine