Year: 1865

[ once heard an old Jour remark that a
printing Office was no place for love making,
and have since experienced the truth of his
observation now fully convinced that
the flower of love can never bloom amidst
type stands and printing ink. 1t was my
fortune to sojourn in the village Of --.
Directly opposite the Office was pretty
white cottage, with rosebush all around the
easement, and [ was not long in making the
discovery that the cottage contained a fair
| nmate-a flower whose beauty far outshone
the rose that clustered around the window.
She was little blue-eyed creature of some
sixteen summers. She was the belle of the
village, and her name was Mary-sweet po
etic Mary.


1t was a beautiful summer morning, and I
freshing breeze from the flower decked fields,
and it was not long before [ perceived that
the cottage window was also hoisted, and
that sweet little Mary was near it, very bus
lily engaged with her needle. [ worked but
little that morning. My eyes constantly
wandered toward the cottage window, where
little Mary sat, and all sorts of fantastic no.
tions whirled through my fancy Lighted BRAIN
and began to think that slight touch of
what the poets call love sliding in at the cor
ners of my heart. A few days passed away
and. chance made me acquainted with Mary
Heavens! she was sweet creature-a form
that would have shamed the famous Venus
de Medici-a cheek that out-blushcd the rich
est peach, and a lip that would have tempted
a bee from his hive on a frosty morning. She
seemed the embodiment of all that was love-
ly and bewitching. Well, time passed on,
and one day Mary expressed a wish to come
and visit the printing Office. Oh thought
|, what chance, I'll do it there, yes there,
in the midst of the implements of the black
art. Why shouldn't !? Love in printing
office There was something original in
that and resolved to try it.


Well, Mary came TO the Office, and I ex-
planned to her the use of every implement OF
the black art-the inks and the stands, and
boxes of A B C's. [ took the opportunity
to snatch her lily white hand and she drew
it back, knocking stick full of matter into
pi. 81 must have kiss for that, my pretty
one," said |, and at it [ went. managed te
twist one arm around her waist, and in strug
Cling to free herself she upset asfgalley o.
editorial, long article on the Reconstruction
Question. Nothing daunted, [ made at hel
again. This time [ was more successful, fol
l obtained the kiss. By St. Paul it was ;
sweet one, and the little witch bore it like &
martyr. She never screamed once, but as
raised my lips from hers, she lifted her deli
cate little hand, and gave me box on the
ear that made me see more stars than were
ever viewed by Herschel through his big
Telescope Somewhat nettled, and with my
cheeks srnartiDg with pain, again seized hel
waist and said, "Well, if you don's like i
just take back the kiss She made des
perate struggle, and as she jerked hersel
from my arms her foot struck the ley pot, ane
over it went.


| Another galley of Editorial was sprinklec
over the floor, and in her efforts to reach the
door her foot slipped, and in attempting t.
sustain herself, her hand, her lily white hand
the same little hand that had came in contac
with my ears, Oh, horrible! it was stuck uI
to the elbow in the ink keg! Shades O
Franklin what change came over the beauty
of that hand She slowly drew it from thu
keg, and asked me what use [ made Of tha
tar? [ began to be seriously alarmed, ano
apologised in the best manner could, ano
to my surprise she seemed rather pleased thar
angry-but there was lurking devil in be-
eye that told me there was mischief afoat
AS stood surveying the black covering O
her hand, and scarcely able to suppress +;
laugh at its metamorphosis, she quickly
raised it on high and brought it down 'sker
slap in my face! Before [ could recover
from my surprise the same little hand hat
again descended; and again left the inky i'm
print on my check