Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1906-09-20
CHAPTER XXXII.
EUREKA.

What is time: The past has gone
lere, but imperfectiy under our con-
troll: the future no man knows. Is
there another subject which mankind
regards In ways so numerous and diA
verse as time, the most generic and
indefinite Of terms? Only for the mis-
cradle wretch condemned TO die on an
appointed day do the heeting hours eX-
pire with maddening rapidity; TO the
sufferer from any other form Of torture
they drag their course with most eX-
asperating slowness. 1t is the privilege
of the perfectly happy (if indeed there
be any such) and the perfectly foolish
(of whom everyone must surely know
abundant examples TO disregard time.
The week which elapsed between our
return to New York and my marriage
to Constance seemed to ME of super
naturally long duration. Love is i'm
patient, and dressmakers and milliners
monopolizing. Though living in the
same house as my attianced wife, |
now saw very little Of her; she was
nearly always engaged in being meas
ured, or fitted, or experimental upon in
some way by contingent of French
mOdlstes, who came every day to the
house and disOrganized all its Gus
tomary arrangements. OF the numer-
Gus dresses being prepared for my wife,
Il + ha a nnpI IpD1 ohnnf
them, I was not for the present per.
mitted to see one; but | would have
endured that privation without muir.
murng if the companionship OF my
dear Constance had been spared to me-
However. all things come to those
who wait-unless death comes first and
captures the walters in which case the
latter escape from their wants. Mans
comfort is not more dependent upon
events than upon their convenient Sc
uucnce, a course often difficult to Sc.
cure.
At last the wedding morning came
and l was almost happy. All. that
word almost! Has the man yet lived
of whom it can be truthfully said that
he was quite happy? Long and varied
experience makes me doubt it. with
health, youth and strength; 100000 to
my credit at DreXels; and a beautiful
girl, magnificently lowered, for my
wife; for what more could l wish, you
ask. Why, for my fathers presence
this day. and his approval of the life
long contract I was about to make.
Somehow l could not keep from think
ing of my father Oh this my wedding
morning; and as l waited with uncle
Sam and small party of his friends
in the Presbyterian Church on Fifth
avenue, where the ceremony was to
take place, the old church at Holden
hurst, it's unlikeness TO the sacred
building wherein l was. my fathers
lonely life now that l had left him.
and the probable effect of the recent
tragedy upon him and my grandfather,
Wolsey, largely engaged my mind.
despite all efforts | could make to,
disregard them; until the organ, peal.
ing forth the soul-stilring strains Of
Mendelssohn's Wedding March, an
n0unced the arrival of the bridal party,
and my dear Constance, almost COM.
pietely hidden in white gossamer-likc
habiliments and attended by six maids,
passed slowly up the church.
OF the events between that moment
and the conclusion of the ceremony,
when we all left the church, for a
long time retained only confused
and general recollection; but finally
the particulars of the ceremony took
shape in my mind, and now I can
clearly recall the tall. commanding
form and the clear. impressive voice