The Bourbon news. [volume] (Paris, Ky.) 1895-19??, 1898-08-26
ONE FILTRATION.

farmhouse, two or three miles from that
OF Cousin Andrew Read, at whose house l
was visiting from the,e city.
Mr.. Oakenside stood near the door of
his large parlor, graveEy 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
TO make the acquaintance of large num-
Der Of young ladies', " said one of my rus
tic beaux, after L entered the parlor
He 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
a matrimonial campaign would never have
occurred to me-
May L tell Oakenside that you wish tc
marry?" said my companion. 1T will be
such fun to see how he will take it,
On, no! Not for the world!'
Yes; must-I will! Why should you
care? 1t will be an excellent Joke Say
yes.
L compromised with nay 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.
began to feel that l had got myself
into ''scrape." / was frightened, and
am sure he SOW me tremble for a kindly
light glimmered for a moment in his eye,
and for one instant ! detected a softer
mOdulatiOn ia his tones
His words were few, but they gave me a
rapid glance at his life. / saw that it was
a 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 I hirted 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 1 attached
~ Importance to his remark.
] went sleighing early next morning in
total fOrgetfulness of my lovers visit
When l returned, found he had been
there and had expressed a good deal of
grave surprise al my absence. He and
Cousin Andrew had driven away together
to the next town.
We'll, SOphy,' said Cousin Andrew
that evening, Il had a 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 mean? Did
Mr.. Oakenside mention that silly joke to
you? What did you say?''
Told him 1 had nothing to do with
you or your d0ings, 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 IL deadly earnest. He says
you accepted him"
1t was all in jest. 1t was nothing but
a little Irritation, and 1 would not have
him write to father for the world. Don't
let him, Andrew"
''Well, if that all, won't if I can help
it. Sophy. III tell him not to write, but
he seemed very much in earnest, and I
think he believes you so.''
l met Mr.. Oakenside two or three times
during the week that followed, though he
did not come again to the house. 1 made
a 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 to address
me, and was severely upbraided 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
me 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 &C
company him homeward the following
morning.
1t was not 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 sat a neighbor came in with a
face full of news and beckoned Cousin An
drew to a 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.
yes, something ureaOIuI mas happened.
Oakenside 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 a woodland
here's one that was directed to S:a by"
l took the letter in cold hands, but dared
not look at it. Everybody seemed to stand
great way off. began to have percep-
ton that folly may sometimes be crime.
shuddered, and the letter fell from my
grasp. My father raised and gave it to
me.
Read it" he said in his stcrnest &C
cents:
You seemed a 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 t. ike. 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 I remember even now how young
and inexperienced you are. and do not desire
that my late should too deeply sadden the life
with which it has had momentary entangle-
ment. OAKENSIDE.
I suppose 1 must have tainted after
reading this letter, for l was scarcely con-