Year: 1866

have called fright. 1898 idee II certainly
,oaS not stylish to hang on my arm with
both bands as she did, and to carry her
handkerchief folded fat on tho hymn book
in the bend Of her elbow. But for all that
| loved her, aud thought of the time when
she shoud be my wifo. knew now it
could not be until could hire honse fit
for a gentleman to live In, and buy Dimple


!resscs such as ladies wore, and have sofas
and lounges and tete a tetes TO sit on. in
stead of four pine chairs which would have
con,ented us once think / gave sigh
or two, even then for the lost simplicity
and the ease wi which / could have set,
tied down in the poor little cottage three
months before, and remember buryng
my face in my hnnds half the way back to
! Boston, with a sort Of miserable desire TO
shut out thought along with the daylight


1t was sir months before l went down
again, end then must have cut a very
fine igure, for there was regular stir In
the church when went in, and heard o
whisper Of Boston store clothes.


had q cigar-case Of prime Havannas
in my pocket; o watch and seals at my fub; ;
q Diamond ring and pin to match; but
was by no means rich enough to be married.
My salary would be doubled next qnarter; |;
but then l had my nunt's estimate of the
least young couple could live on.


Perhaps my manner was colder to Dim
Pile than it had been. She looked sad
whcn we parted; and it was whole month
before she wrote l did kiss her letter
then, for hnd been anxious about it.


Oh dear, dear! what little things our
tragedies and comedies on the stage Of ac-
tual life were made of Write them down,
! and half the time, no one would read them.
Little things happened TO me, and drove
me step by step into new road. and SO
it cam, to thinking that never should be
| able to marry; that is, poor girl, and
that there was no reason in the world for
writing SO mauy letters, and that, all things
considered would not. So those queer
little otes went unanswered, until in her
fright. Dimple came down to Boston to
s e me. BY the next p ost, after she went
back, came this no;e to me:


| Mr.. JonS JAsrER--I am not angry-only
have seen that things are not as they iods--
| You and me have both maid q mistake, and it
is better to speak plane about it than to let it
go on longer. 10 this you will find your ring,
aud, by some safe hand, | will send your le:-
tiers. Please send me mine, for it is not fit
you should keep them now; and believe | shall
always wish you we'll.


HKrTY SHAW


Wien that note came raved sndstamped
and tore my hair at first; then cooled
down. II ,odS better-much better; aud
then II was her doing, not mine. How 1
lied TO myself!) So pretty soon | sent
back ber letters by country woman Who
brought mine, and it was all over between
US, aud Dimple was not my Dimple any
longer. Sitting in the close city Office, in
he hot summer days. used TO think some
times of thu breezy green meadows and the
waving grain fields, and wonder whether
she came there OF sunset, as of yore, to
milk the COWS. That sort OF thing made
me wretched though; SO did as little OF
it as l could, and at last resolved to do
what my aunt had been trying to wheedle
me into oil along; namely marry Miss Gray
marsh for her money. She was very rich
and wonderfully sly lish. but net as young
as she bad been, and never in all her life
pretty. / danced with her few evening";
called on her few mornings; sent her
pouunet and tickets for The opera; acted
as her escort there; proposed, and was &C
| cepted under cover of the music, and was
married in two months.


After that had the finest house knew
of-a wife who shimmered i the sun. with
her fine silks and Jewels, like the bride of
the caIled-owned the fastest trotter on
the road, and was as idle as l pleased
Was happy? Do you suppose bird is
happy 10 gilded cage? Over and over
again. waking or sleeping. | heard the tin.
kle of the COW. bells, and saw D.mple look
ing over The bars at me-Dimple, with her
golden hair and jet-black eyes. l hardly
knew what the color Of my wife's eyes real
ly was.
. led a life fast aud wild as life coald be.
l was only home once in while. Then,
after the Grst, it was sneer, tsuut and qua r
rel-quarrel, tauut and sneer. My house,
and ntq money from her from morning until
night. We never had a child ; SO there
was nothing to bind US together. Sill We
went through the form, of society, aud no.
body guessed We were not fond of each
other, supposs. At last We went to New.
port, as usual, one summer and one glow
ing morning she would have me go down
on the beach. l wanted quiet and my ci
gar. She turned on me fercely:


My money bought you. she said. and
do not choose to appear, what am, a neg
lec,ed wife. Come. have paid for your
attention, at east.


did not go with her. l sad words to
her which, even with such proVoca'ion.
should never ha We said, and she went alone.
An hour after l left my room and saun'
tered down stairs. Taers was a crowd at
the door, another crowd down on the
beach, dreadful something in every face,
turned seward, whisper of Keep him
back Stop him 1t was of me they
spoke but forced my way forward and
saw men bearing something white and drip
plug up the path. My wife by what
chance no Que ever quite knew she had
been drowned. My fist thought was that
she bad drowned herself and, conscience
smitten, swooned upon the floor


When all was over aud was free, with
wealth TO squsnder at will. began to think
how might have made some little happi
ness for myself by being more tender TO her.
How even her love would have been better
than her contempt. The spleudid empty