Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1885-11-14
CHAPTER VII.



CHAPTER VII.
MATT CROWS MATRIMONIAL.
That night tho younc man Of the caravan
had curious dreams, and throughout them all
moved, like a presiding fairy, Matt Of Abcr-
glyn. sometimes he was wandering on
stormy shores, watching the wrecks of mighty
argosics; again, he was in mysterious cav
erns underneath the ground searching for and
finding buried treasure; still again, he was
standing ON the decks Of storm-tossed vessels.
while the breakers thundered close at hand
and the balefires burned on lonely headlands
But at all times and in all places Matt was
his companion.
And, curiously enough Matt in his dream
was very different to the Matt of waking real
ity: taller and brighter-in fact, as beautiful
as a vision can be; 80 that his spirit was full
Of a strange sensation of love and pity, and
the touch of the warm little hand disturbed
his spirit with mysterious joy. So vivid did
this foolish dream become at last that he
found himself seated on a sunny rock by the
sea, by Mats side; and he was talking to her
like lover, with his arm around her waist;
and she turned to him, with her great eyes
fixed on his, and kissed him over and over
again, so ACKNOWLEDGMENT he awoke!
1t was blowing hard, and the rain was pelt-
ing furiously on the roof Of the caravan. He
tried to go to sleep again, but the face of
Matt las he had seen it in his dream) kept
him for a long time awake.
Now, young man." he said to himself,
"this is idiotic. In the first place, Matt is a
child, not a young woman; in the second
place, she is vulgar little thing, not young
lady; in the third place, you ought to be
ashamed of yourself for thinking Of senti-
ment at all in such a connection. Is your
brain softening, youngster, or are you labor
ing under the malign influence of William
Jonesf The kiss you gave to this unsophisti-
Gated daughter Of the desert was paternal, or
say, amicable; it was very nice kiss, but it
has no ri ut to make you dream Of stuff and
nonsense"
But the influence of the dream was over
him, and in that housekeeping, half waking
state, he felt like Q boy in love. He found
himself calculating the age of his own friend.
Let him see! it was fifteen years since, in her
own Ggurative expression, she come ashore"
and the question remained, How old was she
on that interesting occasions AS far as he
could make out from her appearance. she
conld not he more than sixteen. For a damsel
of that age, her kiss was decidedly precocious.
At last he tumbled off again, and dreamed
attire and captivating manners, to whom he
was "engaged;' and her speech, strange to
say, was quite poetical and refined; and they
walked together, hand in hand, to country
church on a green hillside, and were just
going to enter, when who should appear upon
the threshold but Mr.. Monk of Monkshurst.
But they passed him by, and stood before the
altar, whore tho parson stood in his white
robes, and when the parson asked aloud
whether any one saw any just reason or inn
pediment that the pair should be joined in
holy matrimony, the same Monk stepped
forward, with Mephistophelian smile, and
cried, Eyes, l dor On which the young
man ewoke again in agitation to find that it
was broad daylight and a fine fresh summer
morning
Whom should he find waiting for him when
he had dressed himself and stepped from the
house on wheels but Matt herself Yes, there
she was, as wild and quantity attired as ever,
quite unlike the ethereal individual of his
dreams; but for all that her smile was like
sunshine, and her eyes as roguish and friendly
as ever.
Conscious of his dream he blushed while
greeting her with a friendly nod.
'Wen, Matt, here again, ehf" he said;
adding to himself. This won't do at all, my
gentleman; if the young person continues to
appear daily the caravan will have to move
on'n
Matt had evidently something Oh her mind
After looking at BrinLley thou., fully for
some minutes. she exclaimed cbrr-l1ly:
William Jones don't like you neither No
more does William Jones father
Dear mo- said the young man. I'm very
sorry for thst-"
HE says-WiliamJo Jones says-you'rc come
here pry:ng and spying. Do youi'
My dear Matt, replied the young man
lightly, II come here as a humble artist,
seeking subjects for my surprising genius to
work upon Ii it is prylng and spying TO
attempt to penetrate into the beauties OF ma
ture-both scenic, animal aud Luman-I fear
Unjust plead guilt; but otherwise-"
She interrupted him with TN impatient ex-
claIuation, accompanied by a hitch Of her
pretty shoulders.
Don't talk Ike that; for then know
you're chatting. Talk serious. and Ill tell
YOU something
All right I'll be serious as parson. Go
ahead"
'Mr. Monk, OF Nonkshurst, vents tomarry
me. He said SO to V iliaia Jones"
The information was delivered with as
umed carelessnes; but after it was givea
Matt watched tho effect III IL upon the hea-er
with precocious interest. Brinkley opened
his eyes in very natural emaxen,ent.
''Comc, come, Lat; you're joking"
sNo, Iain't It's true"
"But you're only q child-avery nice child,
I1dmit- TO talk Of holy mat-imony in
such a connection is-excuse my franlzness-
preposterous. People con sinarry ittlegirls.
But Matt did not consent to this proposition
at oil
~ mint little girl" she affirmed, with .
decisive nod of her head. TIN sixteen, and
I'm grcwcd up"
The young man was amused, and could not
refrain from laughing heartily. But the
girls brow darkened as she watched him, and
her under lip fell as il she would like to cry.
III you 60 ON laughing, " she aid, "I1l run
sraigtt back home, and nsver come hero no
morNn