Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1894-08-22
ONE FILTRATION.


farmhouse, two or three miles from tina,
of Cousin Andrew Read, at whose house ]
was visiting from the city.
Mr.. Oakenside stood near the door Of
his large parlor, gravely welcoming the
guests that were pouring in, in merry
groups of rudy girls and sturdy youths.
Miss Sophy, it is said that Mr.. Oaken-
side is anxious to marry and that this par.
ty was given to afford him an opportunity
10 make the acquaintance of large num-
Der of young ladies', +" said one of nv rus.
tic bcaux, after entered tho parlor.
lie has chosen most admirable mode
OF carrying out his plan," answered. Il
am anxious to marry myself, but l am
sure SO brilliant an idea for the opening OF
matrimonial campaign would never have
occurred to me- -
May tell Oakenside that you wish to
marry" said my companion. 1T will be
such fun to see how he will take it,
''Oh, no! Not for the worIdp'
Yes; l must-I will! Why should you
carer 1t will be an excellent Joke. Saw
yes"
1 compromised with my conscience by
saying nothing, and the laughing young
man moved away. In another moment
he returned, bringing Mr.. Oakenside,
whom he presented to me, with laughing
hint at mutual Wishes" and then walked
quickly away.
l began to feel that had got myself
into 'scrapo." was frightened, and /
am sure he saw me tremblc, for kindly
light glimmercd for moment in his eye,
and for one instant I detected softer
meditation in his tones
His words were few, but they gave me a
rapid glance at his life. / saw that it was
commonplace existence enough. He
wanted wife to take charge of his house
and servants and to make his home pleas
ant for him. In return he would be faith
full and provide for all her wants.
All the evening l 1irted with my SOL
emn lover, who only left my side to at
tend to his duties as host occasionally.
AT parting Mr.. Oakenside said he would
visit my cousin next morning, but in my
ignorance of English custom l attached
no Importance TO his remark
/ went sleighing early next morning In
total forgctfulness of my lovers visit
When 1 returned, found he had been
there and had expressed good deal of
grave surprise at my absence. He and
Cousin Andrew had driven away together
to the next town.
well, Sophy," said Cousin Andrew
that evening, N had proposal for your
hand this morning or rather for permits
sion to address you. Have you been steal
ing the Englishman's heart, you little
witch?'
"Oh, cousin! What can you meanp Did
Mr.. Oakenside mention that silly joke to
you? What did you sayf'
Told him I had nothing to do with
you or your doings, to be sure And then
he asked me whether your father could be
addressed. You may be sure it's no joke
to him. He is in deadly earnest. He says
you accepted him."
1T was all in jest. 1t was nothing but
little Irritation, and would not have
him write to father for the world. Don't
let him, Andrew"
"Well If that S all, won't If can help
1t, Sophy. I'll tell him not to write, but
he seemed very much in earnest, and 1
think he believes you So"
l met Mr. Oakensido two or three times
during the week that followed, though no
did not come again to the house. made
u TESTING apology for my absence on the
morning of his visit, but no allusion was
made to anything that had passed.
At the end of the week came an angry
letter from my father. Oakenside had
written to ask his permission 70 address
me- and was severely upbhidcd for hav-
ing encouraged such man to such an act
He wrote:
Your mother is seriously displeased with you
and desires me to set out at once, as she cannot
be easy again until you are once more under
her care. / have written to Mr.. Oakenside,
and he will probably annoy you no more. Ex-
pect me on Wednesday.
For some cause this letter did not reach
mo until the Wednesday morning. At
evening my father arrived, and after re-
proving my folly in the terms it well de-
served he desired me to be ready to ac-
company him homeward the following
morning.
1t was not a very merry breakfast to
which we sat down next morning.
was In disgrace, and was sorry to go away
from the pleasant people who had treated
me so kindly.
As we snt neighbor came in with n
face full of news and beckoned Cousin An
drew to n conference upon the doorstep.
In few moments he returned, looking
very sad and pale. He sat down and passed
his hand over his face, then, looking up,
answered our inquiring looks.
Eyes, something dreadful has happened.
Oakensidc hanged himself in his barn this
morning early. He wrote some letters and
left them on his desk before he did it,
my cousin hesitated for woodland
here's one that was directed to Sophy."
took the letter In cold hands, but dared
not look at 1t. Everybody seemed to stand
great way off. l began to have a percep-
ton that folly may sometimes be crime. I
shuddered, and the letter fell from my
grasp My father raised and gave 1t to
me.
"Rcad It," he said In his sternest &C.
cents:
You seemed sweet and merry child, and
loved well and wooed &you earnestly. l have
been made the subject Of a cruel jest, your IA
Their scorns my suit, and my neighbors jeer at
me. do not wish to live. Take my advice as
from the grave. Never again sport with
mans feelings. BE true as you desire to meet
truth. But do not blame yourself too much for
this can remember even now how young
and inexperienced you are, and do not desire
that my fate should too deeply sadden the life
with which IL has had a momentary entangle-
ment. OAkENsIDE.
I suppose / must have tainted after
reading this letter, for was scarcely con-
Ecious of anything more until I was far
;~urnnv -RnctpY, Glaho