The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1894-04-05
upon them approvingly and took her

upon them approvingly and took her
seat.
The boys looked at her with restless,
conscious eyes. as she lifted the envel-
opes one by one. Through each she
saw the blotches of crayon and gaudy
color which revealed its contents. The
postman had left them on the desk, for
each bore its proper stamp properly
Cancelled, but the crooked handwriting
| of the addresses was familiar enough
to her.
Those impertinent boys" she said
to herself, as she gathered the letters
and called to meek little girl in the
first row.
Bessie Guy, put this rubbish. in the
stove"
The child obeyed. The disappointed
boys grew solemn. Miss Parker look ed
happier.
There's another, Miss Parker" said
the mild little girl, pointing to a mis-
sive which had fallen behind the big
dictionary. Margaret put out her hand
and took it up. 1t was letter in a
neat, cream-tinted envelope, directed
in beautiful hand.
No, this is something else" she said,
and opened it. The first words that
:aet her eye were these: April 1st,"
and crushing it in her hand, she said a
little sharply: Take it with the rest.
Bessie" 1t stung her to see a hand
older thar :. schoolboy's in this letter,
thnt1nh hn I'll
person.
1t was Rev. Martin Tillinghast's let
ter that went, unread, into the stove;
and he waited in vain for an answer
for many weeks; but it was curious
that just about that time Margaret Par
ker found herself thinking a good deal
about time, fifteen years ago, when she
was seventeen and young Martin Til
linghast seemed to be so fond of her.
She did what she had not done for long
while; she took down from high shelf
little box, with two letters, lock of
hair, and pretty pink and blue valen-
tine in lace paper envelope in it, and
she thought over all he had said, a1d
remembered what people told her of
the influences brought to bear on him
when he married Jerusha Crocker.
II think he was fond of me-" she
sighed, land I'm afraid l was too fond
been weaker than knew. l am sure
he never was happy, and how lonely he
must be now that he has not even her.
wonder" Here she dropped talking
to herself, and tied up the letters and
put the box away, never guessing what
She had consigned to the flames of the
school stove.
Meanwhile Rev. Martin Tillinghast
decided that Margaret scorned to
answer him. and gave a verdict against
himself of: at served me right"
When his advisers spoke again of mat
rimony he agreed with them in a gen
eral way that it would be Well to make
choice. He was still hoping for an
answer-hoping against hope; but he
was weak, for when they alluded to
the Widow Mapleson as fine woman
and a perfect wife for minister. he
agreed with them, and by degrees, ad-
viseds pushed, beckoned by all his we'll
wishers, placed himself in the position
of a probable sutton for the hand of
that worthy dame, whose waist was
full thirty inches about, and who was
five years his senior, and the last woman
he would have chosen.
The year passed slowly. Its May
day, its Battle of Bunker-Hill day, its
summer vacation, its harvest home
all enlivened the congregation, and
should have cheered the pastor, but he
was low-spirited. 1t was expected of
him to take a wife, and he dreaded
good Mrs. Mapleson, whose wheezy
laugh annoyed him, and who was not
always grammatical. However, he
felt that he had gone too far to draw
back, and he had resolved to propose.
The widow might refuse him, after all.
He could only hope for that, and then,
feeling that he could not stay at home
and think, he took his pocket Bible
and went down into the village to visit
the lame cobbler, Jack Simms, and his
old wife, ard read d chapter to them.
He found the cottage draughty, as it
was warm as need be, and the old folks
sitting before fire which roared in
rather large stove.
You see us comfortable, Mr.. Till
inghast," said Simms. gleefully.
We've had present. Miss Parker,
the schoolma' am, has been a-working
for u.s. bless her. She went and got
the school-board to give us the old
stove that was took down, because it
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