Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1892-09-03

We talked him over at tea time, Jack
and |, and made up our minds that he
had once been a suitor of Miss Nancy's.
It. as not very difficult matter to
ruess that, and from that day he called
r., r,qu-ntly. He made me his contidante
at last.
He had adored Miss Marcy, he told me,
and she had returned his affection, and
they had become engaged to each other .
with the consent of the mother, and all
wei,t merry as marriage bell, until, in
some manner, he offended the object of
his alteration.
| judge he made her jea,ous, having
been in his day beau of the first water
and much admired by the ladies, but he
was too modest to say 80 outright. But
al all events she would not forgive him.
She refused him the miniature which
had been painted for him, she took back
her lock of hair and sent him back his
letters, and in all sorts of ways wrecked
vengeance upon him for his evil doing.
Yet believe she intended to relent and
forgive, and he also thought so, am
sure. He made every possible apology
and overture, but she yielded not one
inch.
At last her mother died That great
sorrow, it seemed to him, must bow her
pride, and she must more than ever need
comforter, consoler, protector.
Allowing time. for the first burst of
grief, he wrote to her, asking her to reply,
whatever her fiat might be, begging her
to forgive him and once more promise to
be his wife.
"She never answered me-" he said.
"She never gave me one word in reply.
1t was on my tongue to say she had
been very vindictive, but saw that that
would not do. Miss Nancy was sainted
in his memory and could be suspected OF
no wrong whatever.
II erred beyond forgiveness. sweet
angel" he said-"I erred beyond for
gveness; and Bachelor Barton could not
have been moved from this opinion by
the " hisper of an angel
"Auntie," cried my little nephew,
"there's somethingin the crows nest.
was sitting in the garden and the
voice sounded above my head. l looked
up with start. In the road outside
arose a tall pole, and from time imme-
mortal a great Gro ~ s nest had crowned it.
How little Billy had managed to reach
its apex l cannot say, but there he was,
and speechess with horror l could only
implore him, in dumb show, to descend.
He answered me with laugh, flung
something to the ground and came slid
ing down after it.
You naughty boy!" l cried, as ]
caught him in my arms.
Its not bit like a nest, auntie, he
said. ITS all ugly and muddy. There
were some feathers in it, black, and
there was a dead bird, and there was that
cap-a queer cap. l never saw such
funny thing"
He picked from the grass the object he
had cast down. 1t looked like crushed
leather box, and had been melted by the
sun and soaked by the rain until it was
shapeless; but it certainly proved to be
a queer, old fashioned cap with a peak
and lined with oiled silk, and as Billy
tossed it about and turned it inside out,
il square white package dropped from
some secret spot beneath this lining,
which had kept it from destruction
adown the years.
Long years they must have been, for
the letter had been written before the
lays when envelopes were used, was
curiously folded and sealed with large
seal on which was the letter "F. " 1t
was addressed in a delicate, running
70
Oaks" etc. In fact, it had evidently
been intended for ths old gentleman we
called Bachelor Barton, and to him l at
once despatched it with a note of eX-
PLANTATION.
His answer was a request that l and
my husband would do him the honor of
calling, as Mr.. Barton was sick and
there was much to explain. And OF
course we went.
Bachelor Barton, bolstered up with
pillows, lay upon lounge, pale as yellow
wax, his eyes shining under his gray
brows.
Dear friends, you have told me that
the letter you sent me was in the lining
of an old leather cap in the crows nest,
thrown away. Miss Frees little negro
servant Cato wore it. A carpenter, who
was mending the barn, had snatched il
and flung it in the air. Apparently il
never came down again. 1twas searched
for, and l watched the search from the
window, but never dreamed that it was
in the nest The cap was old. Cato had
a new one, and that was the end of it.
But now l remember that in that OILED
silk lining the boy put any letters with
which he was sent to the postoffice, IL
order to keep them clean. l think it wa,
made with a sort of pocket on purpose,
and in this lining this letter had started
on its way to me when rude jest endec
my hopes of happiness for life, Cate
forgot or never told the fact of its being
undelivered.
"The letter. dear friends, was an an.
swer to my prayer for Miss Nancy Frees
pardon-a beautiful forgiving, angelic
reply. Had l received it | should have
flown to her She should have been my
bride. These lonely years would have
been gladstone. | might not have been
the last leaf on a withered branch.
at was fated not 10 be. l trust she
did not suffer also IL fear that is pos
sbIe. How discourteous she must have
deemed me. never dreamed she had
written. u
He paused. Tears filled his eyes.
Il am sorry" began.
Don't say you are sorry you found
III" Bachalor Barton cried "If ! WAS