The Lebanon express. (Lebanon, Linn County, Or.) 1887-1898, 1888-12-14

| gypsy kind al life on R2O0 year, stead
fastiy refusing To cucumber himself with
amy employment or To incur responsible
ties more ito quote Chaunceyl than his
hat would cover He was a 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 Poynter 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 availcd 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 alwaya returned 10 st. CHATS, and
was a 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 n favorite lounge IN
| London, tobacconist's 8 in an out of the
way street in the neighborhood of St
Mary Axe.
The proprietor was a beadle, or some
| official of that character, TO one of the
/ companies. and the tobacco business was
| conducted during the early pert of the
| day by the beadle's vile and daughter.
/ 1t was Cheuncey's pleasure to sit on
snuff tub in front of the counter and
/ smoke, in turn, all the varieties of to-
I 4 al.
/ time, also. with animated conversations
| with the daughter, whose powers of
/ repartee were more ready than refined.
/ Il is not our intention TO chronicle more
than Chauncey's parting interview and
what came of it, as slang from We
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,
1 Mr.. Chauncey; I'm going TO be married.
"You marriedN
eyes, me; why not, I should like TO
know" asked the lady, little piqued.
I'm sure l envy the happy man, re-
/ piled Chauncey. Its not the Scotch
man at the shop door, Is ity'
| "Well. I'm surel" said the young lady,
and without another word she bounced
into the little parlor at the back OF the
'.Now you've regularly offended
| 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 hes
I'll buy bundle of water crosses and
| strew her way into church as AN apology
for my rudeness."
"0hl 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-Inor-
row, at St. Mary Axes, but we don't
want it spoke of, as the brideg1rooms
/ nervous, said Mrs. Beadle, in whisper.
| ''I'll be there in time" replied Chaun-
cey. Il suppose her father will give her
| away-in fun costume, cooked hat, staff,
and all that."
HE will do all things that is proper,
Mr.. Chauncey," said Mrs. Beadle, with
much dignity, and Becky at that moment
calling 'tMotherr' 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 a
quarter of an hour before the time ap-
| pointed for the ceremony which was TO
unite Miss Beadle and somebody TO their
lives end.
| hale old gentleman between 60 and
30, 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 immured until the
| arrival of the tobacconist and family
| but without the emblamatical 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 mufti, but his COS
| tune still partook of the splendor of his
| office, and a canary colored waistcoat
with glittering buttons of ruby glass rem
dered him somewhat conspicuous even
in the gloom of St. Mary Axe. His gem
eral expression and bearing was that of
tempered Indignation, as though he
were about to consent to the infliction of
some injury which he could avoid il he
| pleased. A word, a 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 ALTA, and must have
been exhausted entirely by the end of
6llc CCAGtitN1N NAODt NGtplIl8 AOH
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, ''gencSalN useful and
to pick up the pieces"
The ceremony proceeded with all proper
solemnity, but there was Some aSsocia-
ton with the name of one of the con-
tracing parties which made Chamcey
fairly start, and then determine to wit.
ness the signing of the certificate II