Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1884-01-09

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"You have courage to present your
self as my future husband in this skin
flint suitp No, John,.I won't marry
you. As long as you don't show the
sense and stability of man in your
outward appearance | expect less from
the man Within replied Mary, keep
ing her lover at bay with severe look.
John bit his lips. 1t was his time to
get mad at such womanish ignorance
of mems style. That's all you know
about style, Mary. Wait till you sec
the fellows ape me when"
80! one of the species Is quite
enough for me to lose my respect for
all. So don't pride yourself on your
noble array of followers
That arrow struck home. For q
moment John WINGED perceptibly under
her witticism. Then anger got the
better of him.
His look was annihilating as he said:
II guess you've got some other fellow
in your eye, MaryP"
ayes, John, | have" replied Mary,
thinking of the man she would like
him to be, and watching the effect of
her words with little pleasure.
John WINGED. But he hoped the gold
ring in his pocket might yet reverse her
decision. won't you take this ring,
Mary, and let that other goe' he beg
gcd, humbly.
mo, John, I'd rather have the
other fellow"
1t was said so very quietly and with
such n determined ''the other fellow
that John knew there was no hope for
him. He would have liked nothing
better than fighting his fortunate rival.
Swallowing his daggers which made
his voice sound harsh and fierce he
said:
IF you've got some one else, should
just like to have the presents | gave
you when | was a boy. 1t means mad
for good this time"
Mary started. She was not quite
prepared TO make such a sacrifice. But,
of course, Mary was too proud now to
recall anything, and she really had
made up her mind not to have John, if
he stuck to his vanites.
After few minutes absence, in
which John felt himself the most mis-
cradle of men. Mary re-appeared,
with her hand full of trinkets.
His hope that she would cry and then
make up, rs they did years ago, re-
ceived its death blow in the soft but
determined voice in which she said:
''Here, John, is your iron thimble,
your tin needle-box and your brass
ring"
'All right, Mary Hepworth. Maybe
you'll be sorry for this. I'm going
straight to your cousin Sarah, where 1
know my suit will be more welcome. q"
With this he dashed out of the gate
and up the road toward Sarah's home,
leaving Mary leaning against the win
dow in anything but n cheerful mood.
She had intended to break him of his
vanity, and then marry him; for there
was everything that was good and gen
erous in John, and it never occurred TO
her that they could do without each
other. And now he was gone, thimble,
needle-box, ring and all.
Mary didn't cry. The hope that
Sarah had gone as usual to prayer
meeting, and in the meantime Johns
anger would abate and his love return
to her, held its own against the bitter
ness of self-approach and regret.
But when the next day wore on, and
the evening was far advanced, and the
possibility that Sarah hadn't gone to
prayer-meeting, and that at this very
moment she was entertaining her future
husband on cider and ginger-snaps,
grew to n certainty, there was nothing
for her to do but to go out of sight and
sound of tickle humanity, and bury her
grief in the neighborhood of the spring
where John and she had so often list
ened to the music of the falling water,
and the song of love within.
John must have had similar i'm
pulse, for when she drew near the
spring and pulled her handkerchief
from her pocket in preparation for n
good cry, she saw John with his head
buried on his knees--and oh, Joy? dress
ed in the ordinary working-clothes in
which she always liked to see him.
Her first impulse to make up was re-
strained by the fear that he might be
Sarah's bethrothed. She swallowed n
big lump in her throat and tried to look
very Indifferent, as she said
"Good evening, Mr.. Redpath. Per-
haps / may congratulate you?'
mo you mayn't either, I've got
nothing to be congratulated for, except
that / made scare-crow out of my
thirty dollar suit. But it don't seem to
be a success even there. The crows are
as hard on the corn rs ever"
This time the tears came very quickly
to Mary's eyes. She knelt down on the
grass beside him, and said softly:
John, please give me my thimble
againp" =
The iron thimble was fished fy .,roirf mi
t1dept6s Of johns pockets and handed
to Mary in silence.
The momentary stiffness was agar
broken by the same pleading voice
John, please give me my tin needle
case"
The needle-case changed owners in
the same mechanical fashion"
"You look very nice now, John. You
look like man, you know, that one
could love and look up to-" said Mary
at the same time pushing back the
SLOUGH hat and peering closely in his
eyes.
MARY, will you take the gold ring
nowP"
Mary held out her finger and Johr
slipped the gold ring on just rs he had
slipped on the brass ring ten years ago
"Mary, may kiss you nowP"
She only nodded her head, and Johr
was timid, after certain adventure tn,
day before.
/ "You won't treat me like you did tn,
other day, Mary, II kiss you"
Mary laughed, little confused, a.
she answered.: 81 darcn't now, YOU
know; we're engaged
II was long while before she mad,
any effort TO free herself from his arms
after that.
I When they walked home past tn,
cornfeld in which the crows were still
busy getting their late supper, in spit'
, of the fashionable scare In the center
of the field, John, remembering tina
other fellow. who had caused him |
slecpless night, wanted TO know wh'
his formal rival was.
"He is John Redpath, the farmer
and want you to be good TO him,
, said Mary, archly. The fellow.