Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1907-06-21

IN CAAS ~ Va hAS $1,000 $50
white cottage, lived Prof. Mason and
his authenticated daughter Emily.
Opposite, in the square, ugly brick
house, where everything in the gar
den was planted in pairs, lived old
Jacob Porter. Although Emily was
almost 25, hers was the distinction
of being the youngest person in the
block; and the block. was Bmily's
world.
All the neighbors loved her, but II
grabbed old Jacob Porter felt n af-
lection for her, he kept it we'll con-
cealed.
One other person also loved her. A
serious-minded, straightforward young
lawyer named John Farrell, whom
Emily had known in her school days,
had returned, after his admission to
the bar, to hang out his single in a
neighboring town and to court Emily,
who, however, refused to take his
mild attentions with a proper seri-
n
Contented Emily, whose time was
pretty well occupied with her house.
keeping, had just one unqualified
longing; but that, after all, consider
ing Emily's environment, was rather
an ambitious one. She wanted not a
husband, but a horse. She had no
expectation of owning memo n in
the block except Mr.. Porter had eve
owned one.
when my ship comes in" Emily
would say, as she sat socially on one
or another of the blocks doorsteps, II
shall have a beautiful horse with a
flowing black tail-I've always loved
horses
When Mr.. Porter died suddenly in
April, the n~eighborhood learned, with
considerable establishment, that the
shabby old man was possessed of con-
siderable property, and relatives to
inherit 1t. There was one clause in
his somewhat remarkable will that
was of especial interest to the block.
He had left $426 and an ancient buggy
to astounded Emily. She was, how
ever, to have no choice in the spend
ing|of this legacy; with one dollar
she was to purchase a trustworthy
cookbook; with two hundred she was
to procure hay and oats; with the
remainder she was to purchase a good
horse, and that without delay. Unless
the animal was selected within a
fortnight, she was to forfeit every
thing but the cookbook. This was
eccentric Jacob Porter's way of maxi
ing it certain that Emily's ship should
reach port.
Mr.. Brown, who had once possessed
a cow and still owned a barn, ad.
vised Emily to advertise in the week
ly paper for a likely young horse.
This seemed sensible advice, and as
soon as the will was probated and the
legacy turned over, Emily advertised.
The paper was issued Saturday
morning, and the ink was not dry be-
fore answers to the advertisement
began to arrive. Emily was called
from the breakfast table to examine
the first candidate, but one glance at
the proffered steed was enough.
NO." said Emily, to the man that
stood on her doorstep, Il can't posi-
bly, buy a white horse"
The man glanced from Emily's
glowing head to his spotlessly white
property, grinned sheepishly, and de-
parted. He Understood, for his own
head was as red as Emily's.
John understood, too.
You see," Emily had explained to
John the Sunday before, I'D as soon
think of getting married as to buy a
white horse"
do think about it," John had
urged, selling the opportunity that
Emily had inadvertently provided.
I'm doing so nicely now that there
isn't any reason why we shouldn't
be married-next October, for in
stance. I've been waiting all winter
for you to give me a little encourage
ment."
III give you a little now demure
Emily had returned, suddenly dis.
playing the rare dimple that John so
loved to see. When | buy a white
horse I'll begin to think about matri-
mony."
Apparently all the horses in Mans
field were for sale. Before the first
day was over, Emily had inspected 80
alleged likely young horses-four of
which, however, rival horse dealers
declared to be on the brink of dying
of old age. Nineteen times that day
Emily and the professor drove, or
were driven, around the block, but
night found them still ~horseless.
The fortnight, as well as the legacy,
was growing beautifully less. Horses
continued to assemble at Emily's
gate-all kinds but the kind she
wanted.
The last day of the fortnight
dawned. The owner of the white
horse had never failed to appear at
least once a day, but was as regularly
turned away.
Just at shutdown of that last day
as fine a chestnut horse as Emily had