Year: 1873

HOW L LOST MY INTENDED.
am not a rich mani never was,
and very much fear I never shall be /;
for, Notwithstanding my having courted
and wooed Fortune, that tickle goddess
has persistently turned her back upon


me. I have often asked myself the
question:" What have 1 done to de-


serve this treatment ?" and have always
come to the conclusion that 1 am the in
nocent victim of circumstances-still [
am victim, and find but little consola-
tion in being an innocent one. In proof
of this assertion, I will relate how I
lost my intended.


Some few years back, it was my
chance to be invited to large croquet
party. Of course [ went, and being
tirst-rate player, soon became an object
of interest to the fair players, and one
of envy to those of the sterner sex.
Amongst the former was Miss Sophia
Wrenton-a fine handsome girl of
about eighteen. She played croquet
admirably-almost as well as I did
and was dressed exquisitely. 1t was a
perfect sight to see her walk across the
lawn: her golden hair, glittering in the
sunshine, escaped in heavy masses from
beneath her pretty little hat her blue
satin dress, looped up just high enough
to show an exquisite ankle and tiny
foot, incased in the daintiest of shoes,
that drove one nearly wild, and made
me envy the ball she placed it on-(we
did not play loose croquet then, but
did the old-fashioned way of holding
one ball tight with the foot.) I played
so that she might croquet me each time;
therefore, need not say that I lost the
game-but was rewarded with glance
that was worth all the games ever
known. [ led her to a seat procured
refreshments-I strolled with her round
the garden-I made love to her. She
listened, and at last informed me that
she always took walk in Hyde Park at
IL A. NJ. Soon after this the party broke
up, and we bade farewell to each other
with gentle pressure of the hand, and
a glance that said us plainly as could be
-" We part to meet again"


Every morning at eleven o'clock, a
tall handsome man, with an extremely
Il,


might be seen vending his way beneath
the branches of the noble trees that,
verdant with foliage, shed their shadows
over that most celebrated equestrian
way, ycleped Rotten Row. Gentle
reader, I was that man.


At the same hour, approaching from
the opposite direction, tall handsome
girl of about eighteen summers could
be observed. Her step had that pecu-
liar elasticity which shows anxiety to
reach the beloved object of her search.
A gentle flush spread over her peach
like cheeks as she drew near the gentle
man before mentioned That sweet
girl was Sophia. We meet, and
But no; cannot describe the rapture
of our meeting


Things went on in this way for q


couple of months. I found Sophia all
that could wish, and I was all that
she desired. She scorned wealth ]


was poor, and therefore escaped hel
scorn. She dotted on mysteries I was


complete one-therefore she dotted on
me. She loved romance had par.
ticular reason for romancing. What
two people in the world could be more
suited TO eacn Other!


During our walks I discovered that
Sophia hated anything commonplace OF
low. Thus she would have had no OBJ
lection to my poverty forcing me to alb
stain from dinners for week or q fort
night but she would have hated me
had [ dared to mention that was un
romantically hungry, or expressed Mr.
Pickwick's desire for " chops and toma
to sauce" I also found that I had {


rival, but, luckily, a rich one-there
fore Sophia scorned him, but at the
same time used him to make me Jealous
and our situation more romantic.
muttered his name (Which by the way
was Jenkins) in deep sepulchral tonel
that made Sophia tremble. I allowed
my hair to grow, loosened my necktie
pulled down the ends of my nous
tache, and sighed liks an American
goat-sucker.


Sophia had, on her part. learned m,
address-indeed, made no secret O
that, for it was good thing being
Bernard street, Russell square. Sh,
thought I had the drawing-rooms
kae,O / had the back attic, but felt i
would not be kind to undeceive her.
1t SO happened that L had to go t.
Reading on q small matter of bushes
during the week the races were held a
that town. Let not the gentle reade
of this sad story imagine that I am
betting man. Danish the thought
And yet if I do indulge little in mat
ters connected with the turf, nobl
lords and dukes have done the same
therefore I need not be ashamed, anC
We'll, no matter, let it pass.


Ny journey to Reading had proved
unfortunate, and I returned home t.
my apartments q always put the IS" il
it; it sounds better) a sad, if not
wiser, man, my heart full of care-m,
pockets void of money. Lighting
candle, which I found placed ready fo
me on the umbrella-stand, / crep
slowly upstairs to bed, hoping to for