The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1885-01-03
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THE BACHELORS W0OING

THE BACHELORS W0OINC
"Humph r said Mr. Thomas Spencer t,
himself as he pulled gray hair from hi
left whisker; Nhumph / believe I'm get
ting to be an old bachelor. Forty-one las
birthday, and there's my nephew Tom beer
in college for two years, and got engages
to Emma Marsden, whose mother, be
Heve, was in love with me once, and
should not wonder if I was just little bi
taken with her. Positively, I am getting
along in life some. Now it seems but two
or three years since went to brother Har
ry's wedding; but it must be at least TWEEN
ty, for Tom is in college and Jenny has I
beau. (Whew three gray hairs over the
left templel) Now, it was silly in Harry
to marry so young, before he got anything
ahead, though he has done pretty well
considering he has had the drawback of (
wife and family all along; yet he has no
half as much money as | now (that stuff
got of Barton does not help my hair a bit
and there is bald place coming). Well
il Is rather lonesome being bachelor wher
all ones friends are married, or dead, ol
something of the sort. | believe | mus
go and get married, too. Pity that the
girls nowadays are so homely-not half SC
pretty Is they were fifteen or twenty years
ago.
sI.et me see, whom shall take? There
Is Mary BarstoW- her father is rich and
she is an only child She is not handsome
enough, thought am pretty good look
ing myself, and I must have beauty in a
wife-her foot is decidedly too large, and
her hands have rather bony look about
the knuckles Mary won't do.
sThere is Susan Ray, young and pretty,
but not rich; / suppose she would grow
crazy, almost, with joy at the thought Of
marrying me; but | ought to make money
when | marry.
I'Old Gray is rich and has daughters
let me see-Fanny she is too old
near forty, guess, thirty-fve at the least,
and she has got some temper, too; and
Bella, and Ada, the second Wife's children,
are both engaged.
II think (plague take that gray hair, the
fifteenth l have pulled out l)-I guess ]
shall ge and call ON Susan Bay; 'twont dc
to be too pointed, though, in my attentions
at first; | may want to back out-pity they
are SO abominably poor [ shall have to
support the whole family, / suppose.
Mr. Thomas Spencer, having pulled out
all the gray hairs he could find in his head
and whiskers, carefully shaved his upper
lip. parted his hair with mathematical ex-
actnesz, put on an embroidered shirt, a
faultless vest, elegant coat and white kid
gloves, drenched his handkerchief in pat
chouli, and started for Mr. Rays domicile.
Susan Ray and Jenny Spencer sat at the
window, deep in confidential converse, as
Mr.. Thomas Spencer came down the street
and approached the house, for Susan and
Jenny were inseparable friends and school
mates.
''Theres your uncle, Jenny !" exclaimed
Susan. How nice and elegant he looks
Which is the oldest, he or your father p
Father, | believe, was Jenny's an
swer.
"Don't you pity poor old bachelors I
do; nothing to care for, and nobody to care
for them, said Susan.
AOh, Uncle Thomas doesn't need any
pity, Sue, replied Jenny; "he is perfectly
satisfied with himself, and thinks father
was very foolish to get married; he cares
about furniture and dress, and then he has
got tame parrot and pair of rabbits to
care for him. But, as | was saying, Henry
Jones told me It was fact about Charley
Harcourt and Ada Gray that they were
engaged, and would be married in spite of
her fathers opposition. and
HJenny, | declare your uncle has just
rung Do you suppose he has come for
your
II hope not; won't go down unless he
asks for me. "
Susan went down in great amazement
when told that Mr.. Thomas Spencer had
asked for her, and when he invited her to
accompany him upon grand sleighing ex-
cursion the next day she asked if Jenny
was going.
II suppose so, was his reply.
eThen [ shall be very happy to 60 r
said Susan.
Mr.. Spencer took his leave, rather puz-
zled to know what Jennys going had to do
with bis escorting Susan.
@Susan, too, was still more puzzled when
she found, on returning to Jenny, that she
was going with Henry Jones and not with
her uncle, and the idea of riding with Mr..
Spencer alone seemed too formidable to be
entertained for moment: Still worse did
she feel about it when about an hour later
William Clark, young man whom she
liked very much, called to invite her to
accompany him with the same party
@Too bad, Jenny too bad, isn't it?
Here I've been and promised to 60 with
your old bachelor uncle, and can't go with
William p and forthwith poor Susan began
to cry.
nSne, you will make yourself sick, said
Jenny, "crying So"
@Good So ! will, Jenny; and you tell
Henry just how it was, and Henry will tell
William, and so | will stay at home, and it
will all turn out right.
So Miss Susan, whom Mr.. Thomas
Spencer supposed to be wild with joy at the
thought of receiving little attention from
SO wealthy and distinguished an individual
as himself was actually crying herself sick
at the thought of being obliged, on his ac-
count, to decline the pleasure of drive
with homely, red-headed youth, with a
genial heart and busy brain, it is true, but
not more than ten dollars in his pocket.
When Jenny went home that evening
she carefully placed upon her uncles table
note, the purport of which was that in
disposition would prevent Susan having the