The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1888-01-20
THE PARSONS MARLoRY.

bquirTel turning III u Cuge, ana announcer
squirrel sitting philosophically over his nutsi
Of q fool"
THE PARSONS MARJoRY.
After some years the old people died, both
in one winter, very carefully tended by their
adopted son, and very quietly mourned when
they were gone. People who had heard Of
his rowing fancies supposed he would hasten
to sell the property, and go down the river to
push his fortunes But there was never any
sign OF such an intention on the part of viii.
On the contrary, he had the inn set on bet
ter footing and hired a couple of servants to
assist him in carrying it ON; and there he set
tied down, kind, talkative, inscrutable
young man, six feet three in his stockings,
with an iron constitution and a friendly
voice He soon began to take rank in the
district as bit of an oddity. 1t was not
much to be wondered at from the first, for he
was always full Of notions, and kept calling
the plainest common sense in question:: but
what most raised the report upon him was
the odd circumstance of his courtship with
the parsons Marjory.
The parsons Marjory was a lass of about
10 when viii would be'about 80, well enough
looking and much better educated than any
other girl in that part Of the country, as be-
came her parentage She held her head very
high and had already refused several offers
Of marriage with grand air, which had got
her hard names among the neighbors. For
all that she was good girl and one that
would have made any man well contented.
viii had never seen much Of her, for al
though the church and parsonage were only
two miles from his own door he was never
known to go there but ON Sundays. 1t
CHANGED, however, that the parsonage fell
into disrepar and had to be dismantlcd and
the parson and his daughter took lodgings
for month or SO, on very much reduced
terms, at Wills inn. Now, what with the
inn and the mill and the old miller's savings,
our friend was a man of substance, and be-
sides that, he had name for good temper
and shrewdness, which make a capital por-
tion in marriage, and so it was currently gos-
siped among their III wishers that the parson
and his daughter had not chosen their tenn
porary lodgings with their eyes shut. Will
was about the last man in the world to be
cajoled or frightened into marriage You
had only to look into his eyes, limpid and
still like pools Of water, and yet with sort
of clear light that seemed to come from with
in, and you would understand at once that
here was one who knew his own mind and
WOuiu otkAuu W ~ iIuluOFdDlJ 2tldi Joiy hci
self was no weakling by her looks, with
strong, steady eyes and a resolute and quiet
bearing. 1t might be question whether she
was not Wills match in steadfastness, after
all, or which Of them would rule the roast in
marriage. But Marjory had never given it
thought, and accompanied her father with
the most unshaken innocence and unconcern.
The season was still so early that Wills
customers were few and far between; but the
lilacs were already towering and the weather
was SO mild that the party took dinner under
the trellis, with the noise of the river in
their ears and the woods ringing about them
with the songs Of birds. Will soon began to
take a particular pleasure in these dinners.
The parson was rather dull companion,
with habit of doing at table; but nothing
rude or cruel ever fell from his lips And as
for the parsons daughter, she suited her sur
roundings with the best grace imaginable
and whatever she said seemed SO pat and
pretty that win conceived great idea of her
talents. He could see her face as she leaned
forward, against a background Of rising pine
woods; her eyes shone peaceably; the light
lay around her hair like kerchief; some
thing that was hardly smile rippled her
pale cheeks, and Will could not contain him
self from gazing on her in an agreeable dis
may. She looked, even in her quietest mo-
ments, SO complete in herself, and so quick
with life down to her finger tips and the very
skirts of her dress, that the remainder of
created things became no more than blot
by comparisons; and if Will glanced away
from her to her surroundings, the trees
looked inanimate and senseless, the clouds
hung in heaven like dead things, and even
the mountain tops were disenchanted. The
whole valley could not compare in looks with
this one girl.
Will was always observant in the society of
his fellow creatures, but his observation be-
came almost painfully eager in the case of
Marjory. He listened to all she uttered and
read her eyes at the same time for the un-
spoken commentary. Many kind, simple and
sincere speeches found an echo in his heart
He became conscious Of a soul beautifully
poised upon itself, nothing doubling, nothing
desiring, clothed in peace. 1t was not posi-
BILE to separate her thoughts from her appear
ance. The turn Of her wrist, the still SOUND
of her voice, the light in her eyes, the line.
of her body fell in tune with her grave ant
gentle words like the accompaniment thai
sustains and harmonizes the voice of tn,
singer Her influence was one thing, not t.
be divided or discussed, only to be felt witt
gratitude and joy. To Win her presence re
called something Of his childhood and tn
thought of her took its place in his mind be
side that of dawn, Of running water and o
the earliest violets and lilacs. 1t is tn
property Of things seen for the first time, o
for the first time after long, like the flower
in spring, to reawaken in US the sharp edg
Of sense and that impression of mysti
urangeness which otherwise passes out of lif
With the coming Of years; but the sight of
loved face is what renews a mans characto
rom the fountain upwards
One day after dinner VIII took stro
among the frs; grave beatitude possesse
him from top to toe, and he kept smiling t
himself and the lanscape as he went. I'll
river ran between the stepping stones with
pretty wimple; bird sang loudly in til
wood; the hilltops looked immeasurabl
high, and as he glanced at them from time
time, seemed to contemplate his movement
| with beneficent but awful curiosity, IL
way took him to the eminence which owe
| looked the plain and there he sat down upo
| O stone, and fell into deep and pleasal
| thought. The plain lay abroad with i
cities and silver river; everything WI
asleep, except a great eddy of birds whiC
kept rising and falling and going round al
round in the blue air. He repeated Marjory
name aloud, and the sound of it gratifed L
ear. He shut his eyes, and her image spraI
up before him, quietly luminous and atten
ed with good thoughts The river might II
forever; the birds fly higher and higher t
they touched the stars. He saw it was emp
hustle after all; for here, without stirring
foot, waiting patiently in his own narrc
valley, he also had Stained the better su
light,
The next day Will made sort of declaI
ton across the dinner table, while the pars
was filling his pipe.
"Miss Marjory," he said, ~ never kne
any one liked so well as you. i am most
q cold, unkindly sort of man, not from wa
Of heart, but out of strangeness in my W
of thinking; and people seem far away fro
me. 'Tis as If there were a circle round II
which kept every ono out but you. / C
hear the others talking and laughing,
you come quite close. Maybe this is di
greeable TO youi" he asked.
Marjory made no answer.
"Speak up, girl" said the parson.
"Nay, now,n returned WIN, II would
press her, parson. feel tongue tied myse
who am not used to it, and she's wont
and little more than child, when all is sa
But for my part, as far as l can understa
what people mean by it, fancy must
what they call in love. l do not wish to
held as committing myself, for l may
wrong, but that is how believe things
with me. And ii Miss Marjory should [
any Otherwise on hpr part, mayhap she wo
be so kind as shake her head"
Mallory was silent, and gave no sign Il