Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-08-07
HILLERY'S COURTSHIP.
The Happy Victim of an Unin
 tentional Proposal.

Every body said the squire would never marry. Not because they had any special assurance that the squire would never assume the hymeneal yoke, but just because it would seem so very funny if he should.
 | There are a great many things that could happen, though in some way or other we get to think they never will, and when they do happen we are al- most as much surprised as we would be at a miracle. So it was with the squire and matrimony. In the eyes of his friends and relatives the very idea was Imaginable.
 NOW, the squire was no squire at all. The word implies a judge, and the squire was not a judge, at least not in the legal sense. Squire" was simply nickname given in sportivo mo- ment to J. EIillery Crabtrec, by a jok- ing school-fellow, and it had tenacious ly clung to him as he had advanced in years and stature.
 J. Hillery, or the squire, was, as to complexion, a brunette; very dark eyes, blue-blaclz hair and mustache, about five feet eight inches in his stockings, and. decidedly blunt in his manners, with a generous opinion of himself. In his early youth he was the especial charge oil his three aunts, and at the same time their torment He was the source of never-ending con- tention between the three estimable ladies who could never agree as to how he should be trained, and in conse- quence the squire himself was responsi- ble for most of his early training as the multitude of cooks spoiled the broth-of a boy. And We find him at twenty-four with kind of contempt for women, young women in particular He was suspicious of them. He was very particular as to his personal ap- pearance, taciturn and single, vet withal, had he been biting fish, the girls thought that he would have been a good catch. Fate was laying a trap for the wary and self-satisfed squire One day he called to see one of his aunts in New York, and to the sauire's disgust there chanced to be a young lady calling at the same time. Of course an introduction followed. The squire would gladly have fled, but he had important messages to give his aunt. Miss Kurtz was in no apparent hurry. Then, to make matters worse. 1t began to rain, and of course Miss kurtz could not go in the rain, and the squire's discomfort was greatly aug mented when his aunt took him to one side and laid dawn the law to him that he must see Miss Kurtz safely home. Why the squire should object to see- ing pretty girl home no one knew, but he did, and it must be said that he was rather grutf as he offered his escort to the young lady.
 Now, how such thing could hap pen can not be told; it was very shock ing, indeed, to the squire, but a fact. The next morning, in the dining-room, the squire chanced to pull out his handkerchief; and what should come out with it but lady's glove, q nice, sWeet-scented, delicate affair. The squire was quite overcome, he was considerably agitated, and when his Cousin Widdy, a very lively young miss, bounced upon the ten-tale glove and demanded an explanation, the squire growled out something and tunsed very red, deliberately took the glove from her, and walked out of1the house.
 As the squire walked along. the street he felt considerably vexed. Now, of course, he must go to l,eturn the glove to Miss Kurtz, but how could he explain its being in his pocket. He would not explain. He would send it to her by mail.
 But again, he did not know the uum- Der of her house, and he did not dare to ask for fear the folks would laugh at him, so that very evening he called and returned the glove to it's fair owner. He was forced to acxnowledge to himself on the way home that he had spent very pleasant evening, and he was not sure that girls were as frivolous as he had thought them. at least not all girls. Miss Ku,rtz had given him an invitation to c;1ll apain