Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1888-12-22

. rarely mentioned-Chauncey was a good
/ naturcd. good for nothing, unsettled,
amusing fellow, who contrived to live a
gypsy kind of life on e200. year, stead
tasty refusing to cucumber himself with
any employment or to incur responsible
ties more Ito quote Chauncey) than his
hat would cover. He was native OF St
Gnats and known to everybody in the
town, but he had no regular abiding
| place, as he chose to wander at will, and
George Pointer would not have been sur
| prised to have received one of Chauncey's
brief letters dated from London, Paris,
Vienna or Pekin. He mostly affected
! England, however, and London espe-
| cially in the winter. When money was
scarce Chauncey walked; when he was
| in funds he availed himself of any cheap
conveyance which offered, sometimes
never inquiring its destination, but
making himself equally at home wher-
ever he was stranded. At Christmas time
! he alwayp returned to ST. Gnats, and
was welcome guest at many hospitable
| tables in that thriving town, making his
| Headquarters, however, with his old
! friend and school chum, George POyn-
| ter. He had written to announce his
return to st. Gnats for the Christmas
approaching the end of the two years
which had interviewed since George
Pointer had assumed the stool of office
at Mr.. Bawk's, and supplies of tobacco
and bitter beer were already secured for
! the welcome pected guest.
Chauncey had a favOrite lounge IL
London, tobacconist's in an out of the
way street in the neighborhood of st.
| Mary Axe.
The proprietor was a beadie, or some
official of that character, to one OF the
companies. and the tobacco business was
| conducted during the early part of the
day by the beadle's wife and daughter.
1t was Chauncey's pleasure to sit on
snuff tub in front of the counter and
smoke, in turn, all the varieties of to-
! bacco sold at the beadle's, beguiling the
time, also, with animated conversations
with the daughter, whose powers Of
repartee were more ready than refined.
It is not our intention to chronicle more
than Chamcey's parting interview and
what came of it, as slang from wo-
mans lips is our adherence.
Chauncey was about to leave the shop
after one of his long sittings, when the
younger lady said:
"YOu won't see me again, | expect,
Mr.. Chauncey; I'm going to be married"
"You married.
eyes, me; why not, l should like to
know" asked the lady, little piqued.
I'm sure l envy the happy man." re-
piled Chauncey. cts not the Scotch
man at the shop door, is it,"
"Well, I'm SlIrer' said the young lady,
and without another word she bounced
into the little parlor as the back of the
shop;
Becky" said Mrs. Beadle, "and such
old friends as you was-and she to be
married tomorrow, and so respectable.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that" said
Chauncey. "Where's the wedding to be:
I'll buy bundle of water crosses and
strew her way into church as an apology
for my rudeness."
"Oh she won't want no apology from
you-she knows what you are Mr. Chaun-
cey; but she's to be married at 10 to-mor
row, at st. Mary Axes, but we don't
want it spoke Of, as the bridegrooms
nervous" said Mrs. Beadle, in a whisper.
"I'Il be there in time" replied Chaun-
! cey. 81 suppose her father will give her
away-in full costume, cooked hat, staff,
| and all that"
lie Will 90 ill llllllSS lildG 10 ljlODCA,
Mr.. Chauncey," said Mrs. Beadle, with
much dignity, and Becky at that moment
calling ''Mother!" in rather an hysterical
tone, Chauncey was allowed to find his
way out of the shop as he pleased.
On the following morning Chauncey
was at the church of st. Mary Axe
quarter of an hour before the time APP
pointed for the ceremony which was to
unite Miss Beadle and somebody to their
| lives end.
A hale old gentleman between 60 and
| 70, perhaps, was the next arrival. Having
made some very confidential cOmmuni-
cation to the old pew opener, he was con-
| Quoted, evidently in great trepidation, to
| the vestry, and there imInured until the
arrival of the tObaccOnist and family
| but without the emblematical Scotch
man. Chauncey concluded, therefore,
| that Miss Beadle had captivated the old
| gentleman now awaiting his doom in the
condemned cell called the vestry.
The Beadle was in multi, but his cos
| tune still partook of the splendOr of his
| office, and q canary colored waistcOat
with glittering buttons of ruby glass rem
| dered him somewhat conspicuous even
! in the gloom Of st. Mary Axe. His gen
eral expression and bearing was that Of
| a tempered indignation, as though he
were about to consent to the intiictiOn of
some injury which he could avoid if he
pleased. A word, look, might have
| provoked him to have torn the license
from the parsons hands and to have
dragged his daughter from the altar.
He was therefore allowed to walk up the
aisle unmolested.
Mrs. Beadle was very lively on her en-
trance to the church-mOre lively, per-
haps, than black tea and the occasion
warranted; but, whatever had been the
stimulating cause of her cheerfulness, it
ran in plenteous drops from her eyes as
she approached the altar, and must have
been exhausted entirely by the end of
the ceremony. Niobe weeping for her
children would have been a dry nurse
compared with Mrs Beadle.
Miss Beadle was resigned, as became
her to be at 81. With closed eyes and
dropping head she leaned upon her
mothers arm until, with pardonable
confusion, she released her hand to put
up her parasol as she drew near the altar.
Chauncey rushed to her relief, and with
some difficulty possessed himself of the
incumbrance, and as there were no at
tendant bridesmaids the impudent fellow
attached himself to the wedding party,
to be, as he said, generally useful and
| )