The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1886-04-30

ucr 1dtlEf y eyes. LID ever tell You
the story Of Philip d'Agincourt and the
French marinePn
But | was in no mood for listening
to my uncle's yarns, and hastily babe
him goodnight.
During the week Miss d'Agincourt
and walked and talked and rode and
read together, and my life was raised
to q very high pressure. One look
from those deep eyes could raise me
to state of ecstatic happiness or
plunge me into the depths of misery.
How delightful were such possibilities
in comparison with the monotony of
my previous existencei Is not love
like Captain Whites Oriental pickle,
"a most delicious combination of
sweets and sours?n / could not help
fancving that Rose was mot altogether
Indifferent to me, as modest young
men say in novels; but the uncertainty,
and the alterations of hope and fear
plagued me terribly, and made me I'M
commonly glad when the Saturday ar
rived on which my uncle had prom
ised to pronounce his verdict What
that verdict would be | had no doubt;
for my uncle was evidently fascinated
by the girl he had undertaken to ana
lyze, and could hardly think that after
the first evening he had the heart to
dissect her.
"Well, Reginald" said my uncle,
smoking his after-breakfast pipe upon
that Saturday morning, s'my observa-
tons of Rose d'Agincourt were soon
completed. She is a good, honest, SEN
sible and practicable little woman
My ears tingled with delight.
Eyes, uncle: and you wish me to-
Il don't wish you to do any thing
except make yourself civil to the girl so
long as she remains here. OF course l
am rather disappointed that she has
turned out SO different from what ex-
pected, but we must look elsewhere. I
don't mean to say that | regret her
visit here, for she is very pleasant
soul to have about the house-a de-
lightful little body. Think we haze all
enjoyed her company"
''Butuncle, " | gasped, syou said she
is so sensible and good, and | am sure
she is both. What objection can there
be to her? I think one might go far
Their and fare worse" added, with a
foolish laugh.
"My dear boy" replied my uncle,
taking his pipe from his lips and pro-
cecding to mount his hobby, ''shc IS an
excellent woman, an admirable wom-
an. She would make a capital wife
for poet or novelist. think of
asking Tom Woodbird down to meet
her. If | could marry those two, it
would be beautiful match. OF course
must give up all thoughts of mating
her with q practical fellow like you,
such marriage could produce moth
ing but the commonplace. You have
neither of You one iota of Imagination.
1t is q disappointment to me, confess;
for, personally, [ like the girl very
much, and every thing else is in her
favor.
! could restrain myself no longer.
"Uncle, | cried, II hope you're
not serious, because IL m III love with
hertz
Il thought you seemed rather smit-
ten said my uncle, with the most
aggrayating GOODNESS, .''but the feeling
will soon pass away. AS for your being
in love with her, even You must see
that such q thing is psychologically
absurd. You know very well how often
| have told you that it is only the at
traction of opposites which produce
any real and lasting attachment. Now,
there can not possibly be any such at
traction between two equally sensible
persons, like Rose and you.
Sim not sensible, uncle; | write poe
try"
WHAT exclaimed my uncle, bound
ing out of his chair as if he had been
shot. 'tls that true, Reginald That
would alter the case indeed, But it's
impossible. Some moralizing doggercl
-ch? Good, solid matter of-fact, cut into
longs ymd shorts. All, my dear Regi-
nald, that ism poctry!n
Now, was not q little vain of the
results of my surrcptitious courtship
of the MUSES., and these remarks chafcd
me.
II don't mean to say that 7 have
written any thing first rate, but | hope
it's better than you suppose
''Ncll, we'll, = said my uncle, with
that kindly incredulous smile of his,
bring your verses to me tonight, and
III look at them. And now 90 into the
garden and play croquet with Rose.