nature fits all bet cbilfcren witb something to So, 
 t>e wbo would write anO can t write, can surely review; 
 Can set up a email bootb as critic, anO sell us bis 
 petti? conceit anO bis pettB jealousies. 
 
 Xowdl.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 OR, 
 
 The Honest Thief, 
 
 BY 
 
 J. T. PATTERSON.
 
 p. 
 
 
 PRESS OF 
 
 TRANSYLVANIA PRINTING CO. 
 
 LEXI NGTON , KY. 
 
 1899,
 
 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 OR 
 
 
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 
 
 It is. indeed, a blessing, when th virtues 
 Of noble races are hereditary; 
 And do derive themselves from the imitation 
 Of virtuous ancestors." 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 WfN the year of 1769 the first foot-print of a white man 
 I was made within the present precincts of Kentucky. 
 Daniel Boone, a daring hunter and solicitous ex 
 plorer, was the first Anglo-Saxon whose eyes feasted 
 themselves upon the superlative sylvan grandeur, the 
 ideal landscapes, the undulating hills and the purling 
 brooks of a country which was, as yet, a part of the 
 old Commonwealth of Virginia. Charmed as he 
 necessarily was, with a land that possessed so rnanj 
 attractions, as well as so many natural advantages, it 
 is not at all strange that this daring pioneer, who had 
 been accustomed to a life in the woods, even while a 
 boy, amid the hills of Pennsylvania, should have been 
 enamored of what he beheld in Kentucky. 
 
 As a wanderer from North Carolina, the State of his 
 adoption, in that somewhat far away time, although 
 his lonely peregrinations were through the less favored
 
 4 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 region of a country that was full of charming attrac 
 tions for him, Boone seemed to have conceived the 
 idea that the newly discovered land would be a much 
 more delightful place in which to live than his home 
 on the Yadkin. 
 
 Returning to North Carolina, after a most marvelous 
 absence from his family, his surroundings considered, 
 he bore with him such a glowing account of the country 
 through which he had traveled, that it was a compar 
 atively short time until Knox, Galloway, Kenton and 
 others had taken up their line of march to what they 
 supposed would prove to be for them the North 
 American Eldorado. 
 
 Few enterprises are undertaken, in which there is the 
 necessity of a display of more courage, energy, pluck 
 and indomnitable perseverance, than these early 
 pioneers exhibited, in establishing themselves in their 
 new domain. Still, in the midst of all their privations; 
 in the midst of all their fears of death at the hands of 
 murderous, blood-thirsty savages; they were resolute. 
 They were under the necessity of practicing rigid ab 
 negation, in consequence of their complete isolation 
 from the outside world. They did not, however, have 
 to endure this isolation very long. The news of their 
 having discovered a land of superlative beaut} , a land 
 that met the demands of the poet s dream, spread 
 every where. 
 
 While the Indians were growing more and more re 
 sentful at the idea of having their grand hunting- 
 grounds invaded by the white men, still, emigration 
 on a small scale, set in from the States of Maryland, 
 Virginia and the Carolinas, and resolute and determined 
 home-seekers, wended their way to what was afterwards
 
 WHAT NEXT? 5 
 
 named, in the Indian dialect, "The Dark and Bloody 
 Ground." 
 
 These new comers, in order to the better protection 
 of themselves and their children from the untutored, 
 and yet crafty savages, constructed in different parts of 
 the country, rude fortifications, which, although they 
 were simple in style of architecture, were nevertheless, 
 a means of shelter from their skulking, insidious, wily 
 foes. Of these forts, Boonesboro, on the banks of the 
 Kentucky river, was the most noted. 
 
 The States, already named, were possibly less cosmo 
 politan in citizenship, than they are to-day. England, 
 Ireland, Scotland and Holland furnished the bulk of 
 the early emigration to these States. 
 
 A trip from any one of these countries to the Ameri 
 can continent, with the means of travel which 
 emigrants, in the early history of the States, had 
 necessarily to use, was an enterprise which none but 
 the most daring and determined spirits would under 
 take. A voyage across the Atlantic consumed weeks. 
 It was wearing and perilous withal. 
 
 The reader will pardon the foregoing little abstract 
 of authentic history. It is sometimes important for 
 the better understanding of a bit of romance, especially 
 if the romance be founded upon fact, that the origin 
 or pedigree of the parties who figure in the story, 
 should be brought forward. We, as a people, are not 
 sufficiently British in our practice to allow the fortuity 
 of birth to atone for moral obliquity, not sufficiently 
 European to hide beneath a title an accumulation of 
 vicious turpitude. This being true, we are wont to 
 inquire something in regard to the parentage and ante 
 cedents of persons in our country in whose personal 
 welfare we become especially interested.
 
 6 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 The parties whose partial history is given in this little 
 volume, are deserving of a pedigree that runs, on one 
 side of the family, back to Scotland. Amid the 
 Grampain hills of old Scotia the progenitors of that 
 party once dwelt. Hardy, brave, honest and honor 
 able, they tended their flocks, manufactured flax goods, 
 and led peaceable, quiet lives, with a history traceable 
 to the turbulence immediately following the accession 
 of William and Mary to the throne from which James 
 had been deposed. 
 
 In consequence of the frequent disturbances which 
 were occurring in the land of their nativity, as well as 
 an urgent desire to seek a home in the new world, a 
 world in which it was learned there was freedom from 
 the trammels of religious persecution, exemption from 
 direct church taxation, they became emigrants. They 
 sought a land where freedom of conscience and free 
 dom of speech were guaranteed. They sought relief 
 from the incubus of King-craft and the domination of 
 priest-craft. Among these early emigrants, a Scotch 
 man, just two generations removed from the one whose 
 history is partially given in this volume, emigrated 
 to America. Proud, as Scotchmen always are of their 
 Caledonian pedigree, he settled in Pennsylvania. 
 
 Not satisfied to remain in the section of country in 
 which he at first located, because of its being settled 
 largely by Hollanders or Dutch people, this young man 
 resolved to hunt a section of country more congenial 
 to his tastes. Leaving the land of William Penn, he 
 went to Virginia, which, while it was yet a British 
 colony, was named in honor of England s virgin queen. 
 The emigrant. Theodore Parsons, found much to please
 
 WHAT NEXT? 7 
 
 him in the kind and hospitable reception which greet 
 ed him, upon his advent, as a stranger, among its 
 people. 
 
 It was easy for this recently imported specimen of 
 young manhood to institute a comparison between 
 the spreading landscapes of Virginia and the moun 
 tain fastnesses of old Scotland. It would seem that 
 what Mr. Parsons saw, stretching out before him 
 in this new locality like a grand panorama, would 
 have satisfied his taste for the beautiful and met 
 his demands as a location for employment, as well as 
 a permanent home. But such was not the case. 
 
 Theodore Parsons had heard the story that farther 
 west there was a land of beauty unparalleled, a 
 land whose richness was unwatched, and a land 
 where blue-grass grew r that was nevertheless green, and, 
 that amid this beauty, this fertility and this newness, 
 wild turkeys, dressed in feathers of mare than glossy 
 beauty and brightness, wandered in almost countless 
 numbers ; and Parsons was restive. 
 
 About the time that the incidents recorded in the 
 foregoing paragraph were taking place, a family by the 
 name of Call and one by the name of Orr started for 
 Kentucky, although the news from that district of Vir 
 ginia was somewhat disheartening. The trouble between 
 Great Britain and her American colonies was brewing, 
 and this, of course, was a draw-back to an increase in 
 the promised settlement in the new territory. However, 
 in 1775, Boone had built the first fort which was erected 
 in this part of Virginia, and having reached the des 
 tination for which they started, the Call and Orr families 
 took refuge in the fort at Boonesboro.
 
 8 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 There were many thrilling incidents that took place 
 while these families, together with the other occupants 
 of the fort were suffering a partial imprisonment as a 
 protection from the diabolism of the incensed and im 
 placable Indians. It is not the purpose, however, of 
 the writer, to deal with these blood-curdling and soul- 
 harrowing incidents : so, turning from the contem 
 plation of gory tragedies, the reader may be somewhat 
 abrubtly introduced to a courtship that took place, at 
 least in part, while the Red Man of the forest was 
 sending his whistling bullets in search of human life. 
 
 In the Call family there was a beautiful and sprightly 
 girl, a very heroine in the midst of trouble. She was 
 just blooming into a noble womanhood, and at the 
 time of her entering the fort, had just passed into the 
 sweetest period of girl-life she was just sixteen. She 
 was the admiration of every young male member of 
 the fort s garison, and any one of them would 
 have run the risk of receiving a wound of dubious mor 
 tality from his swarthy foe, provided he could have 
 had an assurance that he would have received, while on 
 his furlough, the kind ministrations of Miss Mary Call. 
 
 Of all the young men in that fort who coveted a 
 smile from the handsome face of Miss Call, no one 
 seemed to be rewarded with a soul-searching expression, 
 that brought the glow of heartfelt gladness to his face 
 except Alonzo Orr. 
 
 There was something attractive about young Orr. 
 He could hardly have been called handsome. Still, 
 there was a suavity of manner that went a long way 
 in the direction of winning lasting friendships. In 
 addition, there was with him an acknowledged brave- 
 ry that demanded and commanded respect. He 
 shrank from no duty, and was ready for any emergency.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 9 
 
 It soon become evident to all, except such as chose 
 not to see, that the attachment existing between Miss 
 Mary Call and Alonzo Orr was in character, different from 
 that which might be engendered by a common danger. 
 When on a hunting excursion, or a scouting trail, Mary 
 gave evidence of an anxious, uneasy feeling, by her 
 very effort to appear indifferent to his absence. As 
 long as Alonzo was inside of the fort, Mary s face wore 
 a placidity of expression, such as poets love to weave 
 about with a golden glow of heavenly radiance. Alonzo, 
 in half adoration, poured out in his back-woodman s 
 dialect, the supreme desire of his soul to the attentive 
 ears of Man 7 Call. She listened to him. The declar 
 ations he made did not alarm her. She had discovered, 
 long before his avowals, that he loved her, and was 
 consequent!}" somewhat anxious for the time to come 
 when he would make known, in words, what he had so 
 long been unable to conceal in his actions. 
 
 When Alonzo asked her to become his wife, with her 
 characteristic frankness, she replied by saying, "not yet, 
 Alonzo, I am over young to marry yet, but "bide a we," 
 and in the no far off future, Providence permitting, this 
 hand shall be yours, for this heart is already all j ours." 
 
 Was this love-making sentimental ? Then would 
 that there could be a larger share of sentimentalism in 
 the wooing which is intended to lead to a life-partner 
 ship between the wooer and the wooed. The intentions 
 of two young people in this instance were perfectly 
 honest. There was nothing sinister that paved the 
 way to this bargain. Mammon was not an invited 
 listener to this coloquy, nor did he play any part in the 
 arrangement into which these young people entered. 
 There was no bidding for pelf on the part of either of
 
 10 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 the contracting parties. Neither of them looked for 
 ward to an inheritance to which neither was entitled 
 by virtue of having honestly worked for any part 
 thereof. They proposed that when their marital vows 
 had heen solemnized at Hymen s alter, they would, 
 after the Indians had ceased to perpetrate their out 
 rages upon the emigrants to this new country, build for 
 themselves a home, and gather about it as many of 
 the comforts and conveniences of life as their own 
 economy and industry would justify. 
 
 The parents of the two proposed partners were fully 
 advised as to the condition of affairs between their 
 children, but showed no kind of dissatisfaction in re 
 gard to the match proposed. In fact Miss Call, in the 
 purity of a whollj innocent nature, made of her mother 
 a confidant and counselor. Under the advice of that 
 mother, the nuptials were postponed indefinitely, or at 
 least deferred till a future time, to be specified later on. 
 
 After various successes, with now and then a reverse 
 in the contest of an increasing number of emigrants for 
 supremacy over the Red Man, the latter measurably 
 retired from the contest, and transferred their warfare 
 farther north. In the mean time Miss Mary Call be 
 came the wife of Alonzo Orr and a voluntary evacua 
 tion of Boonesboro took place about the same time, 
 and the emigrants sought homes in different sections 
 of the county of Kentucky, state of Virginia. 
 
 "There now! What a story!" says the disappointed 
 reader. "What a strange story-teller, too, he must be, 
 to bring forward an imaginary heroine, and with little 
 more than an introduction to his readers, marry her off 
 to a young backwoods emigrant, and of course close 
 up the history of one whom we had expected to follow 
 through nearly the whole of a length}* narrative."
 
 WHAT NEXT? 11 
 
 Hold on, kind reader. You are jumping at a con 
 clusion, and like all persons who jump in the dark, 
 you are apter to alight where you did not expect, than 
 where you did. 
 
 You will allow me in the course of this introductory 
 chapter to my novelette, to mention the difference in 
 the style of the titles worn by what are called the bet 
 ter class of society in the old world, and the passports 
 which are necessarily worn by people seeking admis 
 sion into good society in the American Republic. 
 
 Bear in mind also please, that I am speaking as 
 though I were living in the century when Mary Call 
 was first discovered as only a girl, an undeveloped 
 woman, in the fort at Boonesboro, possibly holding the 
 door of the fort ajar, for the speedier ingress of some 
 wounded member of the fort, who is trying to escape 
 being again wounded by a pursuing Indian, whose war- 
 cry is, "Death to the pale face." 
 
 The question is not whether Mary wore a title, with 
 which she had been dubbed by kingly edict, or queenly 
 grant, and which had been assumed to be scarcely less 
 honorable than the Star and Garter." Mary was a plain, 
 simple, kind-hearted, liberty-loving American damsel. 
 She coveted not borrowed distinction that could reach 
 no further than the portal which separated the seen 
 from the unseen. She had learned that the European 
 Countess wore her badge of distinction no further 
 than the tomb ; that when she passed into the dark 
 confines thereof, the worthlessness of her title became 
 apparent. But, notwithstanding this knowledge, Mary 
 Call was prompted by an innate desire to possess a 
 passport into the best of human society ; one which 
 would not be obliterated bv the hand of death. In
 
 12 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 order to being fitted for the wearing of such insignia, 
 she was modest, kind, industrious, hospitable, sincere 
 and punctiliously exact in the discharge of religious 
 dut3 r . Heaven smiled upon the outcropping recommen 
 dations which she presented, and the probation est of 
 the Eternal King, together with His sign-manual, gave 
 to Mary Call the glorious privilege of wearing a pass 
 port that would pilot her through life, through the 
 grave, and be ultimately exchanged for a crown of 
 glory, in the Everlasting city of her God. 
 
 But, while I am writing these somewhat fulsome 
 compliments to the credit of Mary Call, I have not 
 grown unmindful of the fact that she has become 
 the wife of Alonzo Orr, and that these two people, to 
 whose fair names no flaw attached, are living comfort 
 ably and happily in a home which was finished the 
 year that our State was admitted into the Union. 
 
 Even during the time into which this history reaches, 
 about the first boast in which a Kentuckian indulged 
 was to compliment the beauty and the fleetness of 
 his mare. He believed that "blood would tell" in 
 horses as well as in men. He talked about pedigree, 
 even when he could not trace to any remote ancestry 
 the origin of the mare about whose noble qualities 
 he was ever ready to descant. Leaving the discuss 
 ion of equine pedigrees, the pristine settlers of the 
 of the new Commonwealth would sometimes vent 
 ure upon a questioning investigation as to the qual 
 ities and general characters of some absent menr 
 ber of the settlement, and in these homely disser 
 tations, no speech was ever made that reflected in the 
 least upon the honor or integrity of Alonzo Orr. Being 
 a quiet man, rather retiring in his manner, and, by
 
 WHAT NEXT? 13 
 
 no means, given to an over amount of loquacity, he had 
 never pushed upon any listener, information in regard 
 to his origin, his ancestry, or from what region he came. 
 It was known that he came from Virginia to Kentucky, 
 but, beyond this, no disclosure had been made as to what 
 land gave him birth, and it was only by special inquiry 
 upon this point that it was learned that he was born 
 in the County Down, in the north of Ireland, and emi 
 grated to the States in 1774, while his wife s parents 
 came to Maryland from the province of Alsace 
 in France, and from there went to Virginia where Mary 
 was born. 
 
 My reason for this introductory chapter to my story 
 must now be made known. I have written about ped" 
 igrees, about blood and about titles ; but have, so far, 
 not intimated why I seemed to be on the search for 
 something in the way of a recommendation for the 
 two people, over whose marriage the caviling, captious 
 reader was disposed to complain, because both hero 
 and heroine were side-tracked too early in their history. 
 Well, we left them in possession of an inner conscious 
 ness, that they owed it as a duty to themselves to lead 
 lives of purity, honesty and uprightness. Nay, more, 
 we left them impressed with this idea, because of the 
 influence such lives would have upon the susceptive 
 minds of a flock of children, for whose training these 
 parents would be largely held responsible. 
 
 It is gratifying to record the fact that genuine good 
 ness characterized the lives of these two people as well 
 as the lives of the children as they gradually grew to 
 maturity . The names of Mary and Alonzo Orr were 
 synonims in their neighborhood for hospitality and 
 Christian kindness.
 
 14 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 I am more than glad to place so fine a record to the 
 credit of these two good people. They deserve it. But 
 my special gratification grows out of the fact, that a 
 mutual interest in the welfare of the real hero in this 
 piece of romance, puts us upon common ground. As 
 the Kentuckian would say, I think the stock is good, 
 and there is proof of this in the fact. that, counting 
 Mary and Alonzo, through three generations there has 
 not been found a single "hlack sheep." 
 
 Rejoice with me, kind reader, for Mr. and Mrs. Orr 
 were the maternal grand parents of John Parsons. 
 His careeer constituted him the chief actor in a drama 
 which eventually worked out the title to this novel. 
 
 Theodore Parsons, whom we last saw as a new 
 recruit to the settlement on the James river in Virginia, 
 left the "Old Dominion" shortly after the departure of 
 the Orr and Call families, came to Kentucky, and set 
 tled in one of the richest counties of the Blue Grass 
 region. Here he married a Miss Harris, bought a farm 
 and settled down to business life. He was prosperous 
 in his pecuniary undertakings, and with the enhance 
 ment of his worldly possessions, and the growth of his 
 influence, there was a growth also in the size of his 
 family. Mr. Parsons raised a number of children and 
 his sons were all influential, good citizens, his daugh 
 ters splendid women. The intermarrying among these 
 different families, preserved, even through three genera 
 tions, the names of the original emigrants who brought 
 their hopes and desires from foreign shores. These 
 different names were, of course, supplanted first bj r a 
 number of Virginians, and later by a large number of 
 Kentuckians, as a contingent.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 15 
 
 The children of Alonzo Orr presented some peculiar 
 physical characteristics, as a natural result of a mixing 
 of Celtic and Gallic blood. The men of the family, 
 while not noted for robustness, were possessed of a 
 considerable power of endurance. They were noted as 
 well for their abstemiousness, for their aversion to liti 
 gation, and for their disinclination to meddle in other 
 people s affairs. Temples of justice or court houses, 
 would be useless articles of state furniture, if all men 
 were like the sons of Alonzo Orr proved to be. 
 
 The daughters in the Orr family, of whom there 
 were three, were handsome women, a little under-size, 
 and rather delicate in build. The second of these 
 young ladies, reckoning by birth, was a reputed beauty, 
 and was as much noted for her sweetness of disposition, 
 suavity of manner, and gentleness among her associ 
 ates, as she was for her personal attractions. Young 
 men were not wanting who would have fain paid her 
 court, and sued for her hand, even before she had at 
 tained to an age suitable for assuming womanly duties. 
 
 Time went by, and before many moons had waxed 
 and waned, by what might seem to be a coincidence, 
 the fourth son of Theodore Parsons, left the paternal 
 home in search of business, as a mechanic. He found 
 employment in the shire town of W , situated 
 
 in one of the best counties of the richer district of the 
 State. 
 
 While engaged in w r orking at his trade in W 
 
 at the close of his work for the week, young Robert 
 Parsons was wont, now and then, to mount his horse 
 and hie himself away through the country in search of 
 pleasure, and to gratify his naturally social disposition 
 in the company of his young acquaintances.
 
 16 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 In one of these hebdomadal peregrinations, Parsons 
 chanced to fall in with two young men who stated that 
 they were going to the county of M to make a 
 call on the Misses Orr, and asked him to accompany 
 them. He consented to accept their invitation and 
 accordingly went with them to the home of Alonzo Orr. 
 
 The county of M lies upon what might be called 
 the selvage or margin of the Blue Grass region. In a 
 large part of this county blue grass grew in as rich 
 luxuriance as it did in any part of the State, and the 
 citizens who owned the land in this county, lived in 
 such ease and comfort as to excite the cupidity and 
 covetousness of the non-landholder. 
 
 When the young men reached the home of Mr. Orr, 
 they were met by the host with a display of such ur 
 banity and hospitality as was characteristic of the times. 
 Having traveled a considerable distance, it was under 
 stood that the 3 T oung men would remain for the night. 
 
 Of course these incidents occurred in antebellum 
 times, and the slaves who were happy and contented, 
 were ever ready to extend to visiting guests, that part 
 of the hospitality which belonged especially to them. 
 Sambo was the first to meet the young men upon their 
 arrival. His shining teeth and laughing eyes bespoke 
 plainly the fact that he was in a good humor with him 
 self and the rest of the world. It needed no instruc 
 tion to the satisfied negro what he was to do, and he 
 took the gentlemen s horses to the stable. 
 
 The evening was quite chilly, it being about the 
 middle of October and the young men were delighted 
 to be invited into a large room in which was burning 
 in a broad fire-place a bright wood fire.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 17 
 
 The trio had scarcely divested themselves of the chill 
 with which a stiff October breeze had mantled them, 
 when the young ladies of the household made their ap 
 pearance and were introduced to Mr. Robert Parsons 
 by one of his visiting companions, both of whom had 
 visited the family before. 
 
 Such pictures as the old-time hospitality manifested 
 by this most excellent family, leave upon the memory 
 of those who have been participants of it, a glorious 
 recollection of the joys long past, but which hang 
 about the portals of the soul, like pleasant dreams 
 which will not vanish. 
 
 After the six young people had enjoyed themselves 
 for a while, in a general lively running conversation, 
 the door into the dining room was opened and the steam 
 ing aroma from a delicious supper, such as old-time 
 Negro cooks knew so well how to prepare, greeted the 
 visitors as an inviting appetizer. 
 
 No better compliment can be paid the host at whose 
 table you eat, than to exhibit your knowledge of gas 
 tronomy, and by prudent and hearty enjoyment of the 
 well prepared viands show your appreciation of his 
 cook s skill. 
 
 In this regard the three young men behaved very 
 nicely. A long and somewhat brisk ride through a 
 cold autumn atmosphere, had whetted their appetites, 
 and, even if the fare had been plain but substantial, 
 they could have complied with the requirement which 
 the man of Nazareth gave to his disciples, when He 
 said to them, "Eat such things as are set before you." 
 
 But these visitors were really in the mood to compli 
 ment Mr. Orr s family, by eating heartily at a table that 
 was "loaded," as the nautical man would say, "down
 
 18 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 to the guards," with provision suited to ever}- taste, 
 and prepared in most excellent style. Some of the 
 oldest citizens of our country, decaying landmarks 
 upon the highway of time, are wont to pine for the 
 "days lang syne," and distressingly regret that the 
 changes in human society have made locks upon doors 
 an absolute necessity. 
 
 After supper the 3 r oung people repaired to the gen 
 eral assembly room, of the family, and it was soon 
 observable that Robert Parsons was somewhat anxious 
 to cultivate the acquaintance of Miss Lucy Orr. This 
 young lady was not disposed to throw anything in the 
 way of Parsons succeeding in his purpose. Indeed it 
 was not hard to discover that Miss Lucj r was pleased 
 with the young stranger. The admiration seemed to 
 be mutual, and it was not a surprise that before they 
 separated permission had been granted to Parsons by 
 Miss Lucy Orr that he might call upon her again, at a 
 specified time. 
 
 When the visitors retired for the night, it seemed 
 that Somnus was for a time wooed in vain, and even 
 when he condescended to spread his enveloping veil 
 over the mind of young Parsons and thereby shut out 
 the exercise of sense from contact with material things, 
 the goddess of dreams led him away to the realms in 
 which sport fantastic figures, peris, whose beckonings 
 are bewildering, sylphs wearing womanly features, such 
 as at once wove a strange enchantment about the soul. 
 Such was the contest through which Parsons waged a 
 continuous struggle during the live-long night. 
 
 The condition that the young man was in is not 
 hard to explain. The little blind son of Venus had 
 been at work the whole of the previous afternoon, and 
 a large part of the same evening.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 19 
 
 With the coming of the morning, if Parsons had had 
 a skillful soul surgeon to diagnose his case, he 
 would have found several serious wounds which the 
 little blind son of love s divinity had left in his heart 
 by arrows which had been shot the day before. 
 
 When the visitors had been summoned to breakfast, 
 it was noticed that Parsons did not exhibit the com 
 manding appetite which he exhibited on the previous 
 evening, but no one dared to make a comment on 
 that fact. There may have been one at the table who 
 was suspicious, but her suspicion did not even force a 
 blush to mantle her handsome face, and her thoughts 
 were locked within the citadel of her own soul. 
 
 After breakfast the horses were ordered, and the 
 ever faithful Sambo was soon on hand leading the 
 three horses, each of which showed its splendid groom 
 ing. As the gentlemen mounted, each tossed a piece 
 of money into the extended palm of the sable son of 
 Africa. The gift was acknowledged by a polite nod of 
 his uncovered, woolly head, a broad grin and a 
 "thankee, thankee." 
 
 As the pieces of money which were dropped into 
 Sambo s hands, by each of the young men, as a tip 
 for his trouble, touched his palm, he momentarily 
 scrutinized each piece, and as the offering of Parsons 
 was the last, he at once discovered that the gift which 
 he made was double what either of the others had 
 made, he gave vent to a loud guffaw, and with a low 
 bow said, "thankee boss, thankee boss, I s much 
 ablege to you." 
 
 Parsons rode a good horse, and inasmuch as an 
 appointment had been made for a future meeting with 
 Miss Lucy Orr, he was, by his double tipping of the
 
 20 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 Negro, opening an insurance office against danger from 
 hunger or mistreatment of his handsome steed, during 
 his next visit to the Orr homestead. Besides this, his 
 good-by to Miss Lucy had left a pleasant impression 
 with him, and he felt desirous to make some one else 
 feel happy. Sambo was a good subject to begin on, as 
 was evidenced by his bowing and waving his hat as 
 the young men rode away. 
 
 Parsons may have been a little restive over the 
 apparently tardy travel of time which was to lead up 
 to the second visit to Miss Orr. But that time came, 
 and Robert Parsons started on his jaunt, in some 
 excitement over the anticipated pleasure of another 
 visit to the home of his new acquaintance. Robert 
 proposed, if possible, to make this outing a matter of 
 business as well as one of enjoyment. The conviction 
 seemed to have fastened itself upon his mind that 
 Miss Lucy Orr would make some man a most excellent 
 wife, and he determined, by honest efforts, to be that 
 man. 
 
 Upon arriving at the home of the young lady, the 
 man of ebony having been posted in regard to 
 the time when Parsons might be expected, had put 
 himself in a position to be the first to catch a glimpse 
 of the approaching stranger, and no sooner had Robert s 
 horse turned his side to the style in front of the yard 
 to allow his rider to dismount, than Sambo had the 
 horse by the bit and was smiling and bowing as though 
 he might have had trainings at the hands of some 
 African Chesterfield. 
 
 Sambo was glad to see Mr. Parsons. Of course he 
 was glad. He expected to turn a penny or two, by 
 this manifestation of pleasure, and, in this instance he
 
 WHAT NEXT? 21 
 
 did not differ from a large part of the better educated 
 members of the human family, who like that in which 
 they can see something to be gained. 
 
 Mr. Parsons was not only greeted by Sambo with 
 cordiality. Every member of the family gave him a 
 warm hearted salutation. Miss Lucy, while showing a 
 degree of bashful coyness, as she presented her hand 
 of welcome, still showed by the peculiar expression of 
 her dark blue eyes, that she would offer him a warmer 
 welcome than could be tendered him by any other 
 member of the family. 
 
 Much has been said, as well as written about "love 
 at first sight," and if there be any truth in this 
 assumption, the case before us might be taken as proof 
 of its correctness. 
 
 When Robert Parsons made his first visit to the Orr 
 family, upon his introduction to the different members 
 thereof, there was no name repeated by him in that 
 introduction which seemed to be followed by such a 
 strange thrill as that which ran through his whole 
 frame, when he made his first bow to Miss Lucy, and 
 for the first time repeated her name. 
 
 Is it true that there is an invisible, intangible and 
 inexplicable something that domicils itself in every 
 uncorrupted human soul, and which, although without a 
 word language, can be eloquent nevertheless? If so, what 
 is it? Let the Psj r chologist answer, and then, possibly, 
 can be understood what is meant, when it is said that 
 Robert Parsons experienced something so different, 
 upon his first meeting Miss Lucy Orr, from anything 
 he had ever felt before. 
 
 Are matches or mating made by the direct interven 
 tion of Heavenly hands ? Are the laws of the Most
 
 22 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 High so utterly infrangible that none can trample 
 upon the decree which has fated the union of two 
 human beings ? Let those believe it who may ; there 
 is too much ultra predestinarianism in the idea to 
 meet the demands of the average thinker. Matches 
 made in Heaven indeed! If such an assertion 
 were true, Heaven could be justly arraigned for com 
 mitting some of the most egregious blunders, and 
 lending a hand to some of the most signal matrimonial 
 failures that even divine wisdom could imagine. 
 
 There was no such Galvanism in Robert Parsons 
 religious belief. He therefore concluded that whatever 
 might be the result of his visits to the Orr family, no 
 censure would be laid at Heaven s gate because of 
 failure in his purpose ; no peans of praise sung to 
 angelic listeners, because of his success. The truth is, 
 Robert s ideas of the way to treat the matrimonial bee 
 that was buzzing in his head, rather than in his hat, 
 would be to placate the stranger, and to solicit the aid 
 of Miss Lucy Orr, in order to insure a successful issue 
 to his undertaking. Acting in harmony with this con 
 clusion, although this was but the second visit to the 
 young lady, he deliberately laid the matter before her, 
 the first quiet opportunity that presented itself, and 
 invoked her aid in delivering him out of his troubles. 
 Miss Lucy was not at all terrified, either by the 
 proposition submitted or earnestness with which her 
 suitor laid his proposition before her. 
 
 Somehow, from the little conferences which the two 
 had held during the first visit, as well as because of the 
 short time which he had suggested should elapse 
 before his second coming, Miss Lucy had guessed that 
 he meant business, and business of much moment to the 
 young man, as well as of deep import to herself.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 23 
 
 With true womanly instincts she discussed the 
 whole of the important question that was before them. 
 It was no flimsy, flighty courtship. It was one in 
 which the important details, connected with- what was 
 to he their changed relations, were fully and frankly ex 
 amined. There was no hitch in any one of the propositions 
 submitted, either by him or by her. He had asked her 
 to become his wife. She had consented to do so. A 
 delay, Robert thought, might possibly be dangerous, 
 so the two went before Mr. and Mrs. Orr for a ratifica 
 tion of what they had done. The old people readily 
 gave their consent and the young people were made 
 happy. 
 
 Verbal invitations were sent out to people living 
 among the hills, in the vales, in the neighboring hamlet, 
 to the humble, to the well to do, to the farmer, to the 
 mechanic, indeed to almost everybody, to attend the 
 Hymeneal celebration of Miss Lucy Orr s union with 
 Robert Parsons ; the day for the wedding being three 
 weeks from the time of the last named meeting of the 
 parties to be married. 
 
 The time for the wedding having arrived, invited 
 guests came in from every point of the compass, and 
 an old fashioned, sumptuous feast was prepared for 
 the multitude. 
 
 The pair w r ere married, and hundreds of earnest, honest 
 congratulations were showered upon the newly wedded 
 couple. 
 
 Robert took his bride to the town of W , in 
 which he had located, and they at once began house 
 keeping. 
 
 "There it is again," says the disappointed reader. 
 "Not through one chapter yet, and the parties to the 
 story are being married off and consigned to obscurity,
 
 24 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 almost as if romance were made up of nothing more 
 than short courtships, and a stepping out of society, and 
 out of sight upon the part of those whose history we 
 were following as veritable heroes and heroines." 
 
 Stay your criticism, and do not grow petulant, kind 
 reader. Did you find anything wrong in the character 
 of either Robert Parsons or Lucy Orr? Do you not 
 think they were good stock? Do you not think they 
 would fairly represent the best class of people of their 
 time ? You do ? Then let me say to you these persons 
 are the parents of the individual, who, at least in part, 
 is to figure somewhat conspicuously in the future of 
 this story. 
 
 Some splendid writers of romance, after leading 
 their readers to become most profoundly interested in 
 the outcome of their stories, in the issues of the 
 dramas wherein their stars play their roles, and after - 
 leading their readers through a pathetic, and often truly 
 thrilling and long-drawn-out storj T , seem themselves to 
 grow weary of carrying their actors further, and, in 
 order to rid themselves of the necessity of writing a 
 longer novel, they toss the leader of the word-painted 
 history into a flooded mill-pond, or dump him into a 
 river as the finale to their part of the play. 
 
 Therefore, criticising reader, having noted this, atten 
 tion is called to the fact that instead of drowning any of 
 my characters, I get rid of them by marrying them off 
 and then forsaking them and leaving them to the ten 
 der mercies of the guesser and oblivion. 
 
 If this narrative contained what transpired within 
 the comparatively brief period of a few years, the fore 
 going criticism might be considered altogether just. 
 But, when it is remembered that this story is, for a
 
 WHAT NEXT? 25 
 
 definite purpose, made to cover a period running 
 through more than three generations, the cited criti 
 cism seems to be ill-advised. 
 
 It is true that already in this history we have had 
 our attention drawn to three weddings. But these 
 marriages were not made to take place with a view of 
 ridding ourselves of the participants therein, but sim 
 ply to introduce them to the presence of the reader, 
 that he, or she, might catch a glimpse of genuine, 
 untitled, true nobility. 
 
 The parties thus alluded to, when married, have 
 been put aboard of a connubial boat and set afloat, to 
 try the winds and tempt the storms of a matrimonial 
 sea. We did not follow them till their crafts found a 
 harbor in which to anchor, but somewhere, in the 
 realms of everlasting peace, somewhere, in a haven 
 where storms never come, and where there is no night 
 these vessels made their landing in the long, long ago.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Of nil the joys that brighten suffering earth, 
 What joy IB welcom d like a new-born child?" 
 
 Norton. 
 
 Something ot youth, I, in old age approve 
 But more the marks of age in youth I love." 
 
 Deiihiitn. 
 
 Robert Parsons was living in the town 
 of W - a son was born to his wife, and 
 
 in honor of a very dear friend of the wife, that 
 son received the name which the unbelieving 
 Zacharias, of biblical history, gave to the first born of 
 his faithful Elizabeth. Only a short time after the 
 advent of this little stranger, even before the weaning 
 time came, the young Parsons family moved to an adja 
 cent county, of which county, mention has already 
 been made. Here little John, for such was his name, 
 of course, grew, crowed and flourished. Mrs. Parsons 
 thought him a " marvel of beauty and a joy forever." 
 Mr. Parsons was not inclined to dispute the question ; 
 so, rather than give offense to one he so greatly loved, 
 he submitted to the madam s assertion and let the 
 matter go at that. 
 
 John s babyhood does not demand any further special 
 attention at our hands. That he grew to a sprightly 
 little boy, that he was good looking, and that he was 
 superior to the average boy, Mrs. Parsons confidently 
 believed. Other folks did not regard him as a prodigy, 
 either physically, facially, or mentally. That he was 
 an ordinarily good-looking boy no one denied; that he 
 possessed the intelligence which boys of his age ordi 
 narily exhibited, none disputed.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 27 
 
 This latest scion of the Parsons family was tenderly 
 and carefully nurtured. He really had a double set of 
 tutors. His parents and his grand-parents all leant a 
 helping hand in promoting the growth and develop 
 ment of the little John, both physically and mentally. 
 In addition to these advantages, his mother had a 
 younger sister who was the very embodiment of every 
 virtue that humankind can wear. Under such sur 
 roundings the son, grand-son and nephew, three in one, 
 would have been a crude piece of humanity indeed, if 
 the influences, coming to him from these three sources, 
 had failed to have a refining effect upon his develop 
 ing nature. 
 
 John Parsons spent a considerable part of his early 
 boyhood with his grand-parents, and from them learned 
 very much of a particular kind of history, of which no 
 subsequent reading could have imparted a knowledge. 
 
 The house in which the maternal grand-parents of 
 him whose future was so often predicted as bound to 
 eventuate in something good for himself and country, 
 was, for the time in which it was built, quite a pre 
 tentious building. It was, in kind, what was called 
 a hewed log house. The joists for the second and 
 third floors were planed and beaded. The flooring for 
 these stories was planed on the under side and also 
 beaded, so as to present a handsome finish from 
 beneath. Every nail used in the construction of the 
 building was made on a blacksmith s anvil. The shingles 
 w r ere rived out of the very best quality of black walnut 
 and smoothed with a drawing-knife. To put them on, 
 as a roof, each shingle was bored, and fastened with a 
 wooden pin.
 
 28 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 In this building, and in its environment, the grand 
 son, whose history was at no distant day to begin its 
 larger development, spent the most of his time. 
 
 There were, as we already know, Negro slaves in the 
 Orr family, and as the garments with which to clothe 
 these Negroes had to be made in the family, and on a 
 hand loom, the grand-son, though quite young, who was 
 a regular walking interrogation point, consequently 
 familiarized himself with the manufacture of jeans, 
 from the time of sheep shearing until the cloth was 
 cut, to be made into garments, to be presented to the 
 Negro men and boys on Christmas morning, and the 
 linsey, a combination of linen and wool, which was 
 made into dresses for the women and girls. Nor did 
 his education along this line stop here. His inves 
 tigations continued from the time the flax passed 
 through the flax-break till a part of it appeared as 
 flax linen, and a part as tow linen, the finer-flax 
 linen as material for making "breeches" for the 
 white men of the family and the tow linen for 
 the Negroes. In fact, such was the amount of infor - 
 mation which this boy gained from his surroundings, 
 questionings and observation, that what he learned 
 concerning those matters would make a respectable 
 little volume. 
 
 The inside history of those times is traditional, 
 verbal, and in the no very distant future, when some one 
 gleans some of the facts from the mists of obscurity, 
 and repeats them, he will be credited with telling a 
 tale as wondrous as "The Arabian Nights." 
 
 While John Parsons was growing and maturing, 
 other members were being added to his father s family, 
 until that family consisted eventually, of quite a num 
 ber of son sand daughters.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 29 
 
 To say that this family with its wealth of children, 
 was the possessor of a sufficiency of common worldly 
 shekels to make it appear that Mammon had given 
 the family especial oversight, would be contradicted 
 by the facts. Mr. Robert Parsons was not rich. 
 
 To say that the condition of his family was such as to 
 excite the sympathy, or elicit an expression of pity, 
 upon the part of his neighbors, would be to greatly 
 overdraw the picture. Mr. Parsons was far from being 
 a pauper, and the intelligence, virtue and industry of 
 his children, none of whom were grown, would have 
 made an honest living for the household even had the 
 father been unable to render them any assistance. 
 
 Human purity is sometimes the bed-fellow of human 
 poverty ; but it by no means necessarily follows that 
 human purity, human honesty, or human justice can 
 exist nowhere else, except in the immediate compan 
 ionship of penury. There is possibly a larger share of 
 these virtues found among that class of people who 
 are neither burdened by riches nor pinched by poverty. 
 Avarice and cupidity can never act the role of the 
 Good Samaritan upon money that has been dishonestly 
 acquired, or fraudulently wrenched from the hands of 
 the poor. 
 
 Mr. Robert Parsons was certainly not rich, as the 
 world counts riches ; but, in some respects he was the 
 possessor of untold wealth, a real millionaire in the 
 aggregate amount of goodness that found a place in 
 his unostentatious home. He was a prudent, temper 
 ate, pious and industrious mechanic. His name, in 
 the section of the country in which he lived, was a 
 synonym for uprightness. No spot had ever marred 
 the escutcheon of his history. Pollution s touch had
 
 30 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 left no stain upon his unsullied life. Kind to a fault, 
 if ever idolatry was a virtue in the eyes of Heaven, 
 that father s devotion to his children has long 
 stood to his credit, in the great hook of assizes. Lega 
 cies of lands, goods and chattels may be inherited 
 from paternal estates, which bring with them much 
 temporal comfort, and sometimes temporal trouble ; 
 but the legacy which Robert Parsons was laboring to 
 build for his immediate posterit} T was one of unwith- 
 ering moral worth, left to be embalmed in the memory 
 of his children. 
 
 Flattery is something which this pen would not, 
 knowingly, leave as a transcript of folly. The world, 
 in its unthoughted levity, mny deal in flattery, but in 
 writing of matters of memory, which lie near the sanc 
 tuary of the soul, the pen should leave in its tracings 
 nothing other than frank truthfulness. When, there 
 fore, I speak of the mother of the family, of which 
 young John Parsons was one, as being the living 
 embodiment of devotional piety and motherly affec 
 tion, I state what was true. This was exemplified in 
 the daily life of a most excellent woman. No sacrifice 
 was too great for her to make in the interest of her 
 children. To them and to her husband her life seemed 
 to have been consecrated, and there was little else, her 
 conscientious discharge of religious duty excepted, that 
 occupied her time and attention. Careful and prayer 
 ful watchfulness of her flock of children was the sum- 
 mum bonum of her life. Her sons, as well as her 
 daughters, were healthy, hearty, full of the spirit of 
 good humor and contentment. All of them were pro 
 foundly respectful to parental authority, as well as 
 polite and kind in their intercourse with each other.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 31 
 
 Few homes, I presume, could have been found, in which 
 there dwelt a greater share of amity and filial affec 
 tion than existed in the home of Robert Parsons. 
 These children were wont, when not employed, to 
 engage in blithesome innocent sport, and while they 
 were yet in the hey-day of their lives, and were accus 
 tomed to gather about the family hearthstone in the 
 winter evening time, to pass the flying hours in pleas 
 ure of their own making, methinks it must have been 
 such a scene as this that crowded in upon the lucid 
 imagination of Scotland s poet laureate, poor Bobby 
 Burns, and waked his lyre to sing: 
 
 " From scenes like these old Sciotia s grandeur springs 
 That makes her loveil at home rever d abroad : 
 Princes and lords are but the breath of kin^s 
 An honest man s the noblest work of God ; 
 Andcertes, in fair virtue s heavenly road, 
 The cottage leaves the palace far behind ; 
 what is a lordling s pomp? a cumbrous load, 
 Dis^iiisinj^- oft the wretch of human kind, 
 Studied marts of hell, in wickedness refined." 
 
 The mental development of the boy, John Parsons, 
 while he was yet in his teens, had had partic 
 ular attention paid thereto. The refining influence of 
 a most excellent grand-mother, the especial oversight 
 and training of his devoted mother, the attractive 
 lessons of purity which he had learned from the lips of 
 his younger maternal aunt, who whispered them into 
 his juvenile ears, or sang them with flute-like melody 
 that reached his young heart, all, all conspired to 
 awaken in the mind of the boy a longing for knowl 
 edge. 
 
 Being the oldest of the children in the Parsons 
 family, the other scions thereof were disposed to regard 
 him, as in some respects, a superior. That he was the 
 acknowledged favorite of the household was evident. 
 This favoritism, I presume, grew out of the fact of his 
 approaching manhood.
 
 32 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 John was sent to the best schools which the town 
 afforded, and made fair progress, first in his efforts as 
 a tyro in letters, and subsequently as a student in 
 academic work. But as a neophyte in his scholastic 
 work, he was not especially brilliant. What he lacked, 
 however, in aptitude, he more than compensated for, 
 in his continuity of purpose. There seemed to be no 
 such word in his practical lexicon as "can t." Some of 
 his classmates, in certain studies, were readier than 
 he, but in the outcome, John was not often behind the 
 foremost. He recognized the fact that the years were 
 crawling up on him, and that what he proposed to do, 
 in [the way of educating himself, must be done 
 speedily. 
 
 The common schools which young Parsons attended 
 were presided over almost exclusively by what were 
 Called Yankee pedagogues, and Yankee school-marms, 
 and some of these important dispensers of erudition to 
 the young folks of John s country were skillful teachers, 
 and he was ever eager to drink to the full, from the 
 fountain to which these Yankees invited their pupils, 
 and among the number thus invited, no one was more 
 eager to forge his way to the front than was John 
 Parsons. 
 
 The reason for the importation of these teachers 
 from t the East was necessity. This necessity did not 
 exist because Kentucky did not have men and women 
 of talent and education sufficient to fill, and creditably 
 fill, the place occupied by "Down Easters." 
 
 As a proof that the foregoing statement is 
 correct, I need only cite the reader to the historical 
 fact, that Kentucky played a conspicuous part in every 
 State and national affair of that time which called for 
 talent and scholarly attainment.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 33 
 
 Looking for the true reason why the young men and 
 women of that time and in our State, did not enter 
 the educational field as teachers, we find it in 
 the following facts, namely : There was the prevalence 
 of a kind of false pride, during the time alluded to, and 
 that false pride counted the calling of a teacher as one 
 that was necessarily humiliating, a calling beneath the 
 aspirations of a high-toned Southerner. In other words, 
 Kentuckians chose to hire Yankees to do that which 
 Kentuckians might have done, but which they would 
 not do because of a false pride. 
 
 With an eye wide open to passing events, during the 
 administration of these Eastern teachers, the question 
 forced itself upon the mind of young Parsons, that, 
 provided the gathering of knowledge was one of the 
 grandest and best purposes of life, why it was, that he 
 or she, who came bringing the means to secure an 
 education, should not be considered a harbinger of good 
 and a herald of mercy. 
 
 One thing seemed to be apparent to the young man, 
 in his investigation of this subject, which was that the 
 sons and daughters of people in moderate circum 
 stances, in his country, were not sufficiently versed, 
 even in common English, to fill the places of teachers 
 in the common schools ; while on the other hand, the 
 sons and daughters of planters and rich merchants, 
 who had been thoroughly educated, had never felt the 
 necessity of stooping from their affluent surroundings 
 to engage in the honorable calling of teaching those 
 who had been less fortunate than they. 
 
 Education among the masses had not become suffi 
 ciently general, as yet, to even expect or predict the 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 3.
 
 34 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 attainment of a result, which, if reached, would 
 institute a new era in matters educational in the State. 
 Barring the fact that pride might have played an 
 important part in the loss of such help as would have 
 been valuable in pushing forward the general 
 prosperity of the country, Parsons still wondered 
 that a liberal education of those who were able 
 to bear the expense did not produce a better 
 effect. That there should have been a total indisposi 
 tion upon the part of young Kentuckians to engage in 
 teaching, except as the occupant of a chair in a 
 college, or as the incumbent of a highly remunerative 
 position in an academy or seminar} 7 , was to young 
 Parsons a matter of surprise. 
 
 There were man} 7 honorable positions to be filled, 
 but there were none to fill them except they be import 
 ed, and the populace said, in the language of the man 
 of Galilee, "The harvest truly is plenteous, but the 
 laborers are few." 
 
 Liberal paternal contributions had been made to 
 many of the sons of splendid parents, whereby they 
 had been put in possession of such qualifications as 
 would have insured them success, had they turned their 
 attention to teaching in the common schools of the 
 country. But, with diplomas in hand, they stood at 
 the foot of the ladder, nor dared to step at all, because 
 there was nothing in reach save the first round in that 
 aid to climbing. 
 
 Parsons noticed the existing state of affairs, as indi 
 cated in the foregoing paragraph, and, although but a 
 boy in years, he became convinced that there was a 
 radical defect in the system of education, and that the
 
 WHAT NEXT? 35 
 
 defect lay outside of the school or college curriculum. 
 That it was a defect which prejudice had hatched, and 
 which pride was nursing. 
 
 But for his youthfulness, and an indisposition to 
 seem to be forward or presumptuous, the youthful 
 seeker after truth might have been found in the arena, 
 with severe written criticisms, and justifiable animad 
 versions against the character of supercilious pride 
 which kept the well qualified young people of the 
 country which he loved from entering the field of use 
 ful labor, and aiding in trying to lift the ignorant to a 
 position of more respected citizenship. 
 
 In physical proportions Parsons would have been a 
 model of symmetry, but for the fact that he was a little 
 under-weight for his height. He was willowy and lithe 
 of body, and being as straight as an Indian, his carri 
 age was elastic and erect. He was exceedingly active, 
 and very fleet of foot. To have matched him, in one 
 particular, would have been a very hard task, that is, 
 to have found a man whose difference of chest and 
 waist measurement was as great as his. John s eyes 
 were black, brilliantly so ; his hair, in shading, did not 
 rival the glossy blackness of the raven s wing, but 
 ebony could claim but little the advantage of it in its 
 dark shading. Nature had endowed him with a well 
 shaped head and a rather attractive countenance. 
 
 To say that this party, to whose personal history we 
 have now been introduced, was a handsome young 
 man, would be more than the writer would be willing 
 to assert. Especially would he feel disinclined to make 
 this assertion, with the expression of the Latin 
 quotation ringing in our ears, " De gustibus non disput- 
 adum."
 
 36 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 But while the criticism I have made in regard to 
 John Parsons, is, I think, in the main correct, I 
 presume I might be allowed the privilege of quoting 
 the verdict of some of the severest critics in all the 
 country. The verdict was rendered by a young lady 
 who was a candidate for matrimonial honors, and 
 which verdict was assented to by a number of girls 
 who were listeners to the decision of the chief speaker 
 upon the occasion. That such critics are severe is 
 an acknowledged fact. But, while there is no special 
 reason for wishing to reverse their verdict, being 
 rather disposed to acquiesce therein, it might be 
 well to remember the statement that these young 
 ladies were of marriagable ages, for we surely 
 know that John Parsons was a long way from the 
 attainment of his majority. But to their verdict. It 
 was this: That because of the symmetry of form, 
 the handsome appearance, and the urbanity of his 
 bearing he was destined at no very distant day to set 
 some girl s heart in a flutter, that would not be still at 
 her bidding." 
 
 This little peep at the portraiture of John Parsons, 
 as set forth in the verdict of the young marriagable 
 girls, ought probably to be viewed with some degree of 
 suspicion. 
 
 It is an accepted truth, I believe, that young ladies 
 fully grown, think they have a kind of moral or divine 
 right to compliment or even flatter a j oung man whose 
 tender years are a protection against the snare which 
 Venus suggests in husband hunting. In other words, 
 it is like the privilege which even a modest girl, yet in 
 her teens, will exercise, in daring to kiss a handsome 
 boy of four or five years of age.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 37 
 
 This explanation of the finding of the young ladies, 
 before whose court the case of their really^undeveloped 
 subject of criticism was brought for an opinion, may 
 change the status of John s leading characteristics, in 
 the opinion of the casual reader. Be that as it may, 
 Parsons was. at that time, too young to have 
 been liable to special criticism as to his person, 
 manner or mind, too young to justify any specific 
 prophecy with regard to his future. Something 
 further was needed to be known relative to the 
 characteristics and life of the young man in order 
 to see what there was of the real man in embryo life, 
 in the boy. 
 
 Cowardice is an epithet that is applicable to the 
 craven, while gentlemanly timidity may be a distin 
 guishing feature of a trul} 7 noble specimen of developing 
 manhood. The word timidity as here used, must 
 therefore not be confounded with fear of physical danger. 
 The one may be regarded as a moral quality, while 
 the other bears a more immediate relation to the body. 
 
 A conscious sense of life devoid of wrong to self or 
 neighbor, the honest conviction that a life, so far, 
 had been lived in harmony with paternal pattern and 
 maternal counsel, had not been the- outgrowth of 
 cowardice. This kind of a life was largely the develop 
 ing effect of moral fear. With such a life, developed 
 by such forces, the principle of cowardice must find 
 itself enervated, while a spirit of moral heroism grad 
 ually supplants it, and becomes the dominant principle 
 of the soul. 
 
 But Parsons had an undue degree of self-distrust-^.. 
 Indeed he had an amount of timidity that was 
 almost equal to the coyish bashfulness of a seques-
 
 38 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 tered girl, differing little from hers in quality or 
 quantity. But this was nothing to his discredit. 
 The trait of character, it is true, was misinterpreted 
 by his school-fellows, and was supposed by them, 
 until the error was stubbornly corrected, to be 
 an evidence of cowardice. While the young men 
 among his associates mistook John s timidity for a 
 want of pluck and spirit, the more mature thinkers in 
 his section of country could not withhold their expres 
 sions of admiration for this feature of the young 
 man s deportment. Nay more; they even made 
 it the basis of favorable predictions, and claimed that 
 it presaged something good in the history of the young 
 man in the years to come. 
 
 Ambition and energy can always find that "where 
 there is a will there is a way," that where there is a 
 furrow to be run in the direction of success that he 
 who holds the handles of the plough and makes the 
 coulter strike strong and deep, will turn up success. 
 
 John Parsons was full of energy. He had put his 
 hand to the plough and his ambition contemplated no 
 compromise with failure. He finished a fair course, 
 with credit to himself, in the common school of his 
 town, and then entered college and commenced a 
 course of study full heavy for his physical endurance. 
 But the young man staggered not under the load. By 
 patient and untiring industry and perseverance he 
 finished his course as the first honor student of his 
 class and of course was the valedictorian. 
 
 To an ambitious youth graduation day is a moment 
 ous occasion, for the reason that upon that day the 
 scholastic life ends, and the real active, persistent work 
 of a new life-era begins.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 39 
 
 The best education that the best institutions of our 
 country can give, convey therewith no gift of prophecy, 
 nor do they confer any talisman, through whose power 
 of divination, success, in any and everything under 
 taken, is certainly secured. It was especially a most 
 important occasion for John Parsons. Other young 
 men might graduate, who had something to sustain 
 them until openings presented themselves for their 
 entering upon some character of work that would give 
 them a living. Not so with John Parsons. A longing, 
 half hopeful, anxious wish, as the last amen of his 
 Commencement Day fell upon his ears, was that some 
 one might offer him something to do, whereby the 
 exhausted condition of his exchequer might be replen 
 ished. He had made his last draft upon his father 
 that he felt he could conscientiously make. The care 
 and support of a large family rested upon that father, and 
 John felt, though he was a little discouraged, he would 
 not allow himself to be cast down or become dispirit 
 ed. He felt that with his graduation the last link that 
 bound him to boyish life had been severed, and that 
 manly duties must claim his attention. 
 
 The valedictory address of Parsons was well worded, 
 well delivered and well received. His friends were 
 quite profuse in their congratulatory compliments. Not 
 a few were so outspoken in their laudatory praise of 
 his oratory, his diction, his inflections and his general 
 style of speaking, that their praise brought the blush 
 to his cheeks ; still he was happy in his acknowledg 
 ment of all these gratulatory remarks, and felt just a 
 bit proud over his seeming success. 
 
 There were persons who had known Parsons from 
 infancy, and had been fully advised of his orderly
 
 40 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 walk and general bearing as a 3*outh, who had failed, 
 up to the time of the delivery of his graduating address, 
 to recognize him. They did not regard him as of the 
 kind of material to be introduced into their "set." 
 But now that he had struck a light that was making 
 himself attractive, these stiff, stilted specimens of 
 purse-proud humanity stepped forward, and had the 
 condescension to give him commendatory praise, 
 backed by approving smiles. 
 
 All this was well. It taught John an important 
 lesson. It served to show, that, despite the rigid and 
 starch} display of Mammon s priesthood, there was 
 that in an honest effort to climb to the position of 
 true manhood that took the stiffness out of their 
 rigorous plutocracy, and the starch out of their better- 
 than-you vestments. 
 
 John was rather an apt learner, and on that day, he 
 had two matters of importance upon his mind for 
 consideration. He had finished his academic course, and 
 the first question which bore immediately upon the 
 present was, to what use he could put the education 
 he had acquired, and the second was, in what field 
 would he be able to find employment. 
 
 These were questions that the young collegian had 
 previous!}" conned over and over again, but now that the 
 last link in the chain which bound him, as a seeming 
 dependant, upon the help of others, had been severed, 
 and the questions mentioned forced themselves upon his 
 consideration w r ith an unwonted degree of persistency. 
 
 Even in the very midst of the excitement, the bustle, 
 the confusion, and the interchanges of criticism inci 
 dent to the occasion, and while John s classmates were 
 jubilant over their triumphs, the heart of the valedic-
 
 WHAT NEXT? 41 
 
 torian beat to the music of neither hope nor promise. 
 The outlook for him he considered unfavorable. If he 
 had the means with which to enter upon the study of 
 a profession, no pulse, in all that assembly, would 
 have beaten a livelier tattoo of gladness than that of 
 John Parsons. Poor fellow ! He was not only without 
 anything definite to which he could look as a means of 
 livelihood, but he even was handicapped by a debt 
 which he had assumed as payment upon his tuition 
 in college. 
 
 The President of the institution, in the goodness of his 
 charitable heart, having discovered that there was some 
 genuine, real worth, as well as some sprightliness in 
 young Parsons, and having discovered that the lack 
 of means to defray expenses of tuition was likely to 
 bar the entrance of the young man to the college, 
 very generously offered to allow him the privilege of 
 matriculating, with the understanding that the incurred 
 bill should be paid in the future, no definite time 
 being specified. 
 
 Grand as was John s graduation day for him, it had 
 a termination. The band ceased to play. The large 
 assembly of people who had been interested on-lookers 
 during the day s exercises, and who had regarded the 
 first honor student as the most conspicuous figure of 
 the occasion, had all dispersed. 
 
 The excitement was over, and like the calm which 
 waits in the wake of the storm, quiet seemed to assume 
 its sway everywhere. One thing was observable, even 
 in the midst of the reigning quietude of that afternoon 
 It was this ; while Parsons was unobtrusively 
 wending his way down the street on which his home 
 was located, as he passed groups of young people on
 
 42 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 the sidewalk, there were more bows made to him than 
 usual by gentlemen acquaintances, and more pleasant 
 smiles and approving nods brought into play by the 
 young ladies whom he knew, than he had ever noticed 
 before. To all these salutations Parsons returned a 
 courteous recognition. A gentleman by instinct, he 
 could have done nothing less. 
 
 When John reached home, his father gave him the 
 warm, and well understood grasp of the hand which 
 indicated paternal pride, and paternal approval; while 
 the mother only waited to clasp him in her arms, and 
 imprint a passionate kiss upon his now trembling lips. 
 This part of his home greeting was followed up by a 
 manifested pride on the part of his brothers and sisters, 
 from the eldest, down to the little curly haired sister 
 who joined in the general spirit of gladness, without 
 knowing any reason for it, except that John was her 
 big brother. 
 
 After the passing of this little episode, John retired 
 into the garden, and amid the flowers which his 
 mother s hands had nursed, sought for inspiration that 
 would be equal to the emergency of his surroundings 
 equal to the solution of some of the absorbing ques 
 tions that were lying heavily upon his heart. The 
 first inquiry that seemed to obtrude itself upon the 
 consideration of our somewhat disheartened hero, was 
 the question as to how the debt, which he owed to the 
 President of the college, could be met, and as to how 
 remote the possibility of discharging that obligation 
 was. This was a very serious question, and one in 
 which the debtor believed was involved both his honor 
 and honesty. After much deliberation upon the question 
 of his indebtedness, he could think of no way he could
 
 WHAT NEXT? 43 
 
 work himself out of his dilemma. He therefore 
 resolved upon a dire alternative, and while it was a 
 dire alternative, it was one which was born of honesty. 
 The crucial test, by which he proposed to free himself 
 from an incubus, the existing presence of which he felt 
 would hold him in perpetual disquietude, was to carry 
 his burden of trouble into the immediate presence of 
 the President, and there satisfy his own soul, by seek 
 ing an adjustment of the President s claim. This 
 determination being fully settled, Parsons sought an 
 interview with the President. This interview was 
 granted. When the young debtor came into the presence 
 of the educational sage, he most respectfully addressed 
 him, and at once made known the object of his visit, 
 saying, "President, your kindness has brought me 
 under very weighty obligations to you. They are of 
 such a character as will leave the impress of thankful 
 ness upon my heart as long as the pulsations of that 
 heart shall continue." "But," continued Parsons, 
 "expressions of gratitude, however emotional they may 
 be, will not pay honest debts, and it is with reference 
 to the amount of my indebtedness to you that has 
 brought me into your presence this afternoon. You 
 are doubtless aware of my pecuniary circumstances. 
 You therefore know my utter inability, at this time, to 
 meet this obligation. I am not even able to state any 
 time in the future, when I could reasonably expect to 
 pay you. But, you will understand that I am not 
 here with a view to being absolved from your claim, or 
 any part thereof, that I am not here seeking to be 
 relieved from the accrued or accruing interest, or any part 
 thereof, that now has, or at any future time, may have 
 been accumulated upon your claim. No, kind friend ;
 
 44 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 that was no part of the purpose I had in mind, when 
 I determined upon this visit ; neither came I into your 
 presence to more fully express my thankfulness for 
 your noble generosity; that thankfulness I have hereto 
 fore expressed, in language that this poor, stammering 
 tongue found inadequate to indicate or fully make 
 known. In order therefore, kind President, that 
 what I have to say may not seem to be too long 
 drawn out, I want to relieve your mind, as far as I 
 can, in regard to the payment of my debt, and, at the 
 same time, ease both my mind and conscience by the 
 discharge of what I conceive to be a plain duty. Hear 
 me then, please, and, for the sake of mercy, judge me 
 in kindness. I think I have an appreciative sense of 
 honest}-, and a soul consecrated to truth. I think 
 I have an admiration for honor, instilled into my 
 boyish nature beneath the humble roof-tree of my 
 earl} 7 life. To have a quit claim against your present 
 demands I am willing to mortgage to you my devotion 
 to honesty and my admiration for honor, and should 
 you be under the necessity of foreclosing the mortgage, 
 my body, in service to you shall lift that mortgage." 
 To these short but intimately connected speeches the 
 President was an interested, if not an excited listener, 
 and, after Parsons had indicated by a lengthened 
 pause that his part of the talking had been finished, 
 the President, taking him by the hand, said, " My son, 
 your loyalty to the principles of right, your indomitable 
 energy, in the pursuit of a course of study that 
 would prepare you for the activities of life, your gener 
 ous and manly bearing towards every member of the 
 faculty, your uniform politeness, your suavity of man 
 ner, and last, though not least, your triumphant victory
 
 WHAT NEXT? 45 
 
 in winning the honors of a class, each one of which 
 was a good and faithful student, has discharged all debt 
 that either I or the college held against you. Mr. 
 Parsons, I am convinced that you are a genuine speci- 
 man of true and noble manhood, and I extend again 
 to you my hand, in token of my good will, and would 
 invoke the benediction of Heaven to rest upon you." 
 
 This termination of John s visit to the President was, 
 of course, a matter of extreme surprise. He little 
 thought of having so severe a burden so soon lifted 
 from his shoulders. 
 
 In answer to the President s speech Parsons only 
 reply was, "There are times when silence dis 
 counts the eloquence of speech, when language is half 
 meaningless in its attempts to define the emotions of 
 the soul, when words are insolvents, in their efforts to 
 make known what is meant, by true, genuine, whole- 
 souled thankfulness. Accept, Mr. President, the 
 speechless gratitude of a heart that sighs because it is 
 dumb, and may the infinite arm of a divine mercy still 
 protect you in blessing the world, for your mercy 
 seems never strained." 
 
 Poor John felt richer than he did in the morning. 
 Somehow, he seemed to have realized that the goddess 
 of Fortune had made one turn in his favor, and in half 
 impatient anxiety he was disposed to ask, What next?
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 "The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, 
 Grapple them by the soul with hooks of steel." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 "True happiness 
 
 Consists not in the multitude of friends, 
 But in the worth and choice." 
 
 Jonson. 
 
 (NOTWITHSTANDING the pleasant interview which 
 John Parsons had with his college President, 
 when he found himself again alone, and he had had 
 time for his mind to retire within itself, and 
 make up a kind of inventor} of things generally, he 
 found himself a little dispirited over the outlook. 
 Having no monej" to invest in a business which 
 would pay a dividend upon the invested capital, 
 he felt he -*-ould he compelled to embark in some 
 kind of an enterprise which would not require 
 an immediate demand for funds. The kind of 
 capital which John possessed, a good education, was 
 not a thing upon which a commercial value could be 
 placed, and consequently, at least in an unused state. 
 it was valueless, as money could not be borrowed upon 
 intangible property property whose assets were myth 
 ical. 
 
 Parsons placed a big value upon his education, but 
 inasmuch as he was not in a position to realize any 
 profit from the investment of valuable time and honest 
 brain-work in acquiring his education, he became 
 somewhat discouraged, and the clouds that hung in 
 the horizon grew just one shade darker. He would 
 have applied for a position in one of the schools of the
 
 WHAT NEXT? 47 
 
 county in which he lived, hut for his comparatively 
 beardless youthfulness and his native timidity. Both 
 of these conspired to keep him from being applied to. 
 even by those who were fully advised as to his capacity, 
 and who wanted a teacher. 
 
 John felt he would be equal to the task of teaching a 
 school should one be offered him, but that he was unequal 
 to the task of making an application for one. His 
 want of self-confidence was a bar to his immediate 
 success, for, had he been bold enough to have carried 
 such recommendations . as those who knew him best 
 would have gladly given him, as advertisements of 
 his scholarship, and general character for integrity and 
 moral worth, there were places in various sections of 
 the country, where he would have been kindly received, 
 and justly appreciated. 
 
 John s want of combativeness against the force of 
 circumstances, his total ignorance of that spirit of do 
 or die" character, by which many a human craft had 
 pushed its way against wind and tide to speedy success, 
 w r ere facts that continually militated against his intro 
 duction into business. I think Cowper understood this 
 when he wrote, 
 
 I pity bashful men, who feel the pain 
 Of fancied scorn and undeserved disdain, 
 And bear the marks upon a blushing face 
 Of needless shame and self-imposed disgrace. 
 
 The days of the early summer w r ere allowed 
 to pass, and John Parsons made no application for a 
 place and no one sought John Parsons to tender him a 
 position. He was unused to idleness and chafed under 
 the ennui. 
 
 Not long after the discussions which John held with 
 himself in regard to his position in the world, and the
 
 48 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 pros and cons had all been examined, it chanced that 
 John, as he was passing on the street of his town, was 
 hailed by a wealthy young lawyer, who invited Parsons 
 to his office. John accepted the invitation, and, when 
 the two were seated, Mr. Hampton, the lawyer, began 
 the conversation by saying that he had heard of his 
 success in getting through college, and had also heard 
 him quite handsomely complimented for his somewhat 
 brilliant debut, as a young orator. "You know," 
 said he, "that oratory is an essential element of 
 success in my profession, or at least an essential 
 element to the reputation of being a brilliant man. 
 Under any circumstances, I would have been glad to 
 know that your first, public, forensic effort had been a 
 success. But, as a fellow townsman, I was especially 
 glad to learn that you had acquitted yourself so 
 handsomely." Mr. Hampton then asked Parsons if 
 he had taken under advisement any special plan, as a 
 proposed life-work. "Have you thought of studying a 
 profession?" said the lawyer. 
 
 After thanking Mr. Hampton, very kindly, for his 
 expression of interest in his success, John said to his 
 questioner, that he had never given the matter of 
 studying a profession any consideration. "You know," 
 said he, "that I was not born under a pecuniarily pro 
 pitious star, that no silver tinted offering was presented 
 upon my natal day, upon which was an inscription 
 that presaged the bestowal of future wealth. You 
 know, furthermore, I presume, that I have no inherit 
 ance, either present or prospective, with which to 
 defray the expenses, necessarily incident to the study 
 of a profession. Besides all this," said John, "even if 
 I had sufficient money to pay my way through such an
 
 WHAT NEXT? 49 
 
 undertaking, I very much doubt whether I possess that 
 peculiar mental organism which I think is necessary to 
 make a first-class physician, whether I have the grip 
 that would enable me to enter into the laborious inves 
 tigations, the careful researches, the analytical experi 
 ments, required of him who undertakes to tamper with 
 human life. As to my preparing myself for your pro 
 fession, I feel that there is one essential quality which 
 is necessan- to success therein, wherein I would be 
 conspicuously deficient." 
 
 "And what is that?" said Mr. Hampton. 
 
 "My observation," replied Parsons, "has led me to 
 believe that the speeches which attorneys make are 
 often in direct conflict with the unuttered pleadings 
 which their consciences make. To school myself to 
 practice what is so frequently but an antagonism 
 between lip service and heart service, I think, w r ould 
 be an insuperable difficulty." " Pardon my criticism," 
 Mr. Hampton, "it may be unjust." 
 
 "There is the semblance of truth in what you say, 
 Mr. Parsons, but there is more justification in what is 
 practiced at a legal bar, than appears upon the surface 
 or to the superficial observer." 
 
 " Being far better informed in regard to what law is, 
 \vhat law does, and what benefit the legal profession is 
 to our common country, I would most assuredly defer 
 to your opinion, and apologize for the criticism I have 
 made, and, by way of palliating my mistake, compli 
 ment the legal fraternity, by saying it is, I think, 
 generally conceded, that among professional men, a 
 less amount of jealousy is exhibited by lawyers than 
 by men of any other vocation, the clergy not excepted." 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 4.
 
 50 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 "I am not prepared to say, Mr. Parsons, that your 
 position is not well taken, and therefore accept your 
 compliment, as being one that is just." 
 
 Mr. Hampton seemed to enjoy John Parsons some 
 what invidious distinction between those persons who 
 follow the profession of law and those who practice 
 medicine or teach theology, and kindly called atten 
 tion to the fact, that brain power was always improved 
 by study and experience, let the vocation be what it 
 might. He further stated that self-confidence could be 
 acquired also. All that will be needed, said he, is to 
 have the rough rubs of the world beat about you for a 
 time, and you will soon learn to answer a fool according 
 to his folly to find out that wit or satire, dealt out from 
 behind a shield of "brass," may silence the braying 
 of a Jack-a-nape, while reason alone is a poor defense 
 against the wordy sporting of the pseudo philosopher. 
 
 "Very well said," quoth Parsons. "I presume 
 experience is the onh" teacher that can fully prepare a 
 man for any calling." 
 
 "Yes, experience lies just along the line of success, 
 and experience and success are, in a majority of 
 instances, commensurate. But I shall have to ask 
 that a truce be sounded, with criticism, aswell.as with 
 jesting. The object of my seeking this interview with 
 you, Mr. Parsons, was not to gratify idle curiosity. 
 My motive for desiring to see you was, that by 
 questioning you, I might ascertain something with 
 reference to your future purpose in life, and, if need be, 
 to offer you some assistance. If I have not been 
 misinformed, I think the discovery of signs of spright- 
 liness in you bespeaks a bright future for you. But, in 
 order to insure success, your sprightliness must be
 
 WHAT NEXT? 51 
 
 piloted in the right direction, and your education, so 
 recently finished, must be utilized to the best 
 advantage." 
 
 "In regard to your financial capability, Mr. Parsons, 
 I have only this to say ; your condition, in this 
 particular, was known to me, even before your recent 
 candid confession, and, but for my possession of that 
 knowledge, previous to this interview, the present 
 meeting would not have been sought/ 
 
 Having thought the matter of your environments 
 over, said Hampton, I have concluded to suggest to 
 you that you undertake the study of law. With my 
 help, and the help of my library, I think a young man 
 of your talents, who is possessed of your energj 7 , could 
 scarcely be expected to make a failure. I submit the 
 suggestions to you, Mr. Parsons, for your consideration." 
 
 John knew that the reputation which Mr. Hampton 
 had for honor and integrity, as well as the generally 
 accepted belief that he was quite wealthy, made the 
 presentation of any proposition he might submit, an 
 absolute verity. He had inherited a large estate, had 
 the largest library in that section of the country, and 
 practiced his profession rather as a matter of form than 
 for profit. He had become interested in the welfare 
 of young Parsons, and was disposed to exhibit a good 
 degree of liberality in his behalf. 
 
 After reflecting, but for a moment, upon Mr. 
 Hampton s suggestion, John said, "Well, my friend, I 
 can but conclude that there lies, only half concealed 
 beneath your suggestion, an exemplification of unselfish, 
 disinterested kindness. That you should have made 
 such an offer is more than clever, that you should have 
 made it to one, to whom you are under no possible
 
 52 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 obligations, clothes the suggestion with a mantle of 
 genuine charity charity, such as Heaven s edict makes 
 greater than either faith or hope." 
 
 "I am only disposed to help a worthy young man 
 who seems inclined to help himself," replied Hampton. 
 "I can therefore see no reason why so simple an act of 
 generosity should be magnified into an abounding 
 virtue." 
 
 "Well," said Parsons, you may work out your own 
 estimate of what there is in your suggestion, but before 
 your mind is turned to the mathematical part of the 
 question before me, let me see whether I fairly 
 understand the proposition which I suppose is to flow 
 out of your suggestion." 
 
 "You have said that with your help, and the help of 
 your library, I can make a lawyer. This is about the 
 interpretation which I give to what you said. Am I 
 right?" 
 
 "You are right, as far as you go ; but, stopping 
 short of understanding the entirety of my wishes, your 
 conclusion must necessarily be incorrect. That my 
 proposal included my help, and the aid which could 
 be gathered from the books in my library, was true, 
 but I wanted to be understood as asking no compensa 
 tion for what instruction I might give you, nor any 
 pay for the use of my books." 
 
 "I am frank enough to say to you, Mr. Hampton, 
 that the result of yourpropositfon, for such I must now 
 call it, might be made possible, if there were not other 
 insuperable hindrances." 
 
 "In its widest sense, I am not a pauper, for I think 
 I am rich, in the possession of a sound body, a sound 
 mind, and uncorrupted morals. But, while this is
 
 WHAT NEXT? 53 
 
 true, I fully understand that neither one. not yet all of 
 these qualities could purchase bread or lodging, while 
 I might be engaged in studying law. My way to the 
 bar, I therefore conclude, has too many obstructions, 
 to even give promise of a possibility of my ever 
 addressing a jury. But granting this to be true, I have 
 a living faith, that the riches which I have boastingly 
 claimed to be in my possession, may yet serve as a 
 recommendation to some honorable position, which I 
 can honorably fill." 
 
 "I think, Mr. Parsons," said the lawyer, "You are a 
 little premature in your conclusions. Your interpretation 
 of my proposal was incorrect, and the proposal therefore 
 needs some further explanation. Let me make 
 myself more fully understood." 
 
 "In the submitted proposition, wherein I use the 
 word help, I intended to have that word used in a 
 less restricted sense than you supposed I designed to 
 have applied thereto, and this leads to a misunder 
 standing of the real gist of my proposition." 
 
 It was my intention to be understood, as offering to 
 furnish you the untrammeled use of my library, my 
 counsel and instruction together with all material aid 
 necessary to equip you for an attorney-at-law. Board 
 ing as w r ell as lodging would be furnished, and a 
 sufficiency of money to replenish and keep in good 
 condition your wardrobe. This is what I meant by aid. 
 There was to be no stingy stinting in such things as 
 would be needed to make you comfortable. Now, I 
 propose to make some further explanation of what I 
 intended to be a supplemental part of my offer. It is 
 this. For the aid thus furnished, it should be 
 understood that neither note nor any kind of written
 
 54 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 money obligation should be passed between us. Your 
 verbal obligation to return the money which might be 
 spent in \ T our behalf without interest, when you should 
 have attained a sufficiency lucrative practice to 
 enable you to do so, was all I should have asked." 
 
 It is not very often that a generous exhibition of 
 kindness is so unexpected because of its magnitude, as 
 to fall upon the ears, with a stunning effect, but such 
 was the case in this instance. The proposition as 
 explained, was so overwhelming, that, for a moment, 
 John Parsons, who had arisen to his feet, stood dazed 
 and motionless and statue-like, in the presence of a 
 would-be benefactor. He would fain have grasped the 
 hand of Mr. Hampton, in a passionate display of 
 overpowering gratitude, had the lawyer not have been a 
 man who was a partial stranger, as well as a man of 
 much reserve. 
 
 Parsons knew what kindness was. The President, 
 under whom he had so recently graduated, had 
 presented him with a sublime lesson of generosity, 
 under the expanding influence of which, his heart had 
 opened wider, and was made a bigger receptacle for 
 love and gratitude. 
 
 Parsons not only knew how to estimate anticipated 
 kindnesses, but was ever read} to show his appreciation 
 of them, when they came. He was ever grateful for 
 the bestowal of the smallest favor. Ordinarily, his 
 innate politenesss and good manners rendered him 
 happy in courteously and handsomely recognizing even 
 a compliment. His timidity was not allowed to get 
 the mastery of his politenesss, nor to paralyze the power 
 of his fluent tongue. Having been brought up largely 
 in the school of adversity ; necessity beacme the
 
 WHAT NEXT? 55 
 
 mother of his ready wit and equipoise of judgement 
 under trial. But, notwithstanding all this, he was 
 unequal to the emergency, for some time, which called 
 for a reply to the more than generous Joffer of the big- 
 hearted Mr. Hampton. However, after drawing one 
 long breath, and when it became perceptible that his 
 heart had put on a quickened thump, and that its 
 strokes were climbing throatward, he ventured to break 
 the silence. 
 
 In his astonishment, John still stood erect, and 
 composing himself as best he could, said in a rather 
 tremulous voice, " Really, Mr. Hampton, my surprise 
 scarcely knows any bounds. I seem to be in the very 
 midst of a great unsolved enigma. My very surround 
 ings appear to be half audibly whispering, What does 
 it all mean?" 
 
 That you are wholly sincere in all you have 
 said, I do not, for a moment question. I can see no 
 possible reason why you should be otherwise. With 
 this belief, I must say, your proposition brings me 
 under an obligation that must be commensurate with 
 life. The acceptance of even the tithe of what you 
 have offered would impose upon me, most assuredly, a 
 load of gratitude too big to carry from here to my grave. 
 This is my reason for the non-acceptance of your gift. 
 I am amazed at the magnitude of your generosity, but 
 cannot accept your offer. But. while I decline your 
 proffered help to a young man in his fight for a start in 
 life, I must say, all honor to the man who generously 
 proposes, with his own hand, to push away the over 
 hanging clouds of poverty, that darken the way of the 
 ambitious but penniless youth."
 
 56 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 The subsequent portion of the conversation between 
 John Parsons and William Hampton, as connected 
 with what is chronicled herein, is unimportant. Suf 
 fice it to say, the proposition of the latter created a 
 bond of friendship between the two gentlemen that 
 remained unbroken, and untarnished, till Hampton 
 was called to where human help for the poor is not 
 needed. He passed "over the river" and has been 
 resting in the shade on the other side for a half cen 
 tury ; but still John holds his memory in grateful recol 
 lection, as a man who appreciated honor, honest} 7 and 
 an ambition to be something and do something in life. 
 
 Propositions very similar to the one recounted above 
 were submitted to young Parsons for consideration, by 
 other parties; but, for the same reasons that led him 
 to decline the offer of Mr. Hampton, they too were 
 waived. 
 
 To such persons as are unacquainted with that char 
 acter of ambition which would seek to be independent 
 in all that it does ; the defense of the course of John 
 Parsons, in refusing proffered aid. when it was so seri 
 ously needed, becomes a matter of conjecture. To 
 know that he was, even in distress, in the very midst 
 of generous proposals, examples of noble charity, 
 because of his pecuniary condition, necessarily brought 
 him under a somewhat censorious criticism. But 
 despite all this, like a man who seemed to have a some 
 what bright prospect for drowning, John hung to the 
 willows, with the hope that there would be a rising 
 tide, upon which he might be bourne to higher ground, 
 and find brighter sunshine and fewer clouds. He was 
 not like the Wilkins Micawber of Dickens, waiting for
 
 WHAT NEXT? 57 
 
 something to turn up, but rather watching for some 
 thing which he might try his hand in turning up. 
 
 John was growing restive, but still clung to the 
 belief that somebody would ultimately put in an 
 appearance, who would offer him something to do, 
 whereby he could help himself. He chafed under the 
 idea of being dependent upon the charity and help of 
 others. Indeed, he would, seemingly, rather have 
 stooped to the work of menial servitude than to have 
 accepted aid at the hands of any one to whom he 
 could not have returned a compensation. 
 
 The outlook appeared dark ; but, in the midst of its 
 gloom, it was well that there was one sincere, hopeful 
 and loving friend, who, at least, never deserted him. In 
 the midst of her boy s near approach to despondency, 
 a mother s heart always held in store some comforting 
 and helpful encouragement, while, but for that encour 
 agement the boy s spirit would have suffered under the 
 strain. It may indeed have been well that this status 
 of affairs was soon closed. 
 
 In the latter part of August, 184 , just six months 
 before John had reached his nineteenth year, the Par- 
 .sons family were seated at the dinner table, when a 
 knock upon the hall door indicated the fact that some 
 one desired admission. I say "knock," for the reason 
 that knockers, which were attached to doors, at that 
 period of the country s history, were a rarity, and the 
 use of bells was the introduction of a much later day. 
 Knuckles, knife-handles and walking-canes were 
 utilized in thumping upon the doors of residences 
 whenever visitors desired to call the attention of the 
 family to the fact that some one sought admission. 
 In addition to these facts, even if a family employed a
 
 53 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 waiting servant, the female members of that family 
 h^d not as yet discovered that there was any impro 
 priety for any one of them to answer the summons of a 
 front-door knock. 
 
 Upon this occasion Miss Elizabeth Parsons, John s 
 eldest sister, who was always deeply interested in any 
 and everything that concerned her brother, arose from 
 the table and answered the rapping upon the door. 
 When the door was opened, Elizabeth found herself 
 confronted by a gentleman with whom she was 
 acquainted, a Mr. White, a sturdy old farmer, who 
 lived but a few miles from town. She invited him in, 
 asked him to be seated, and, according to a general 
 custom under such circumstances, informed him that 
 the family was at dinner, and invited him to become a 
 partaker of the repast with them. Mr. White politely 
 declined her invitation, saying he had called, on his 
 way home, to see her brother John on a little business, 
 and that he would be expected home to dinner. 
 
 "If it is John you desire to see," said the young 
 lady, "I will notify him at once, for I am sure, aside 
 from business, he will be glad to see you. He is 
 about through with his meal, and I will send him to 
 you at once." So saying, Miss Elizabeth returned to the 
 dining room, and announced that it was Mr. Hiden 
 White who had called, and that his business was with 
 her brother John, which remark she supplemented by 
 telling John to be in a hurry, as Mr. White was on his 
 way home to dinner. 
 
 John quicklj 7 went to the room in which Mr. White 
 
 was seated, and, after the usual kind of greeting which 
 
 friends manifest upon meeting, Mr. White began, 
 
 without a tedious preface, the presentation of the 
 
 business upon which he had called.
 
 WHAT XEXT? 59 
 
 "Mr. Parsons," said White, we have made no 
 definite arrangement in regard to the employment of a 
 teacher for the school in our neighborhood, which must 
 be opened in September, and I am deputized to 
 employ one. In casting about me, in an effort to find 
 one who might acceptably fill the position, you have 
 been highly recommended as qualified, in every way, 
 to make us a good pedagogue, and I have decided to 
 offer the place to you, provided terms can be agreed 
 upon, as between us. The number of pupils who 
 attend the school is unusually small, and the amount of 
 profit, in teaching it, would necessarily be correspond 
 ingly small. But the place is open for your acceptance 
 and you must exercise your own judgment in regard to 
 the decision you make. I am in somewhat of a 
 hurry," said White. "What do you think of the 
 matter? I do not desire to press the question upon 
 your consideration, by asking for an immediate answer, 
 but think the sooner the question is settled the better 
 I shall be pleased." 
 
 "I hardly know what to say, under the circum 
 stances," said Parsons. "I would certainly be glad to 
 have the position. I need it. Although the amount 
 of compensation, which I might receive for the work 
 that I do, may be small, it would nevertheless relieve 
 me of the feeling of dependence, which is the worst 
 load I am now carrying. I really think, Mr. White, 
 that I would, and could, readily accept the position 
 you offer me, but for two difficulties that seem to 
 stand in the way. In the first place, I am apprehen 
 sive that my youthfulness would be a bar to my 
 commanding the respect which should be maintained 
 in all school rooms. In the second place, I imagine
 
 60 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 that my 3 r outhfulness would be necessarily coupled 
 with a degree of timidity that ought not to be carried 
 into the presence of a class of pupils. I may possibly 
 have some of the essential qualifications of a teacher. 
 As to how many I have, I presume could only be 
 ascertained by putting me to the test." 
 
 "Upon all these points," said Mr. White, we are 
 satisfied. As to the success or failure of your efforts 
 we, as patrons, are willing to share with you all risks. 
 We will help you with our counsel, if it be sought, and 
 give 3 ou all the moral support in your undertaking 
 that we can." 
 
 "Well," said John, "what you propose would throw 
 about the undertaking such pillars of support as would 
 be comforting to the educational novice, who might be 
 apprehensive of the downfall of all his plans. Your 
 confidence inspires me, and without any further parley 
 in the way of offering objections or suggesting the 
 up-coming of suppositional difficulties, I will accept 
 the place and put forth my very best offort to do good 
 and faithful work. This is the best promise I can 
 make; more than this you would hardly ask." 
 
 Your acceptance having been signified, under the 
 pledged assurances which I have made. I need only 
 say to you, as information which will prevent any 
 misunderstanding upon that point, that your wages 
 will be in the hands of 3 our patrons, and that your 
 collection of a salarj of so much per month on the pupil 
 w r ill be your compensation for teaching. The time of 
 making- your collections will be optional with you, but 
 the amount for teaching all grades of pupils is specified. 
 It will be three dollars per month. I am thus particu 
 lar to make this statement, because those by whom I
 
 WHAT NEXT? 61 
 
 am deputised to make this bargain would not like to 
 have any radical changes made in an established 
 custom. 1 
 
 There were some very singular usages that were 
 practiced in the far away time about which I am 
 writing. Removed only a short time beyond the 
 period when John Parsons made his first contract to 
 enter the field as an educator, it was the custom to 
 have the Yankee teachers "board round," as it was 
 called. That is, if a male teacher, it was expected that 
 he would, as a boarder, divide his time about equally 
 among his patrons, spending in his rounds a week 
 alternately with each family. The lady teachers were 
 not subject to such rotary arrangements. 
 
 Our proposed teacher, being a little independent in 
 his mode of thought, as has already been discovered, 
 resolved upon an innovation on this custom. 
 
 John thought that if the saying, that "a change of 
 pasture makes fat sheep" was applicable to the teacher 
 boarding round," there ought to have been a show of 
 more corpulency discoverable in the pedagogues who 
 preceded him, as the advance guard in the train of 
 civilization. John, however, did not covet a rapidity 
 of physical growth, and hence, preferring to havs a 
 regular boarding-place, he arranged with Mr. White 
 for a room and boarding in his family. 
 
 Arrangements were made on the day following Mr. 
 White s first visit to Parsons, whereby the latter, in 
 company with Mr. White, as chaperon and counselor, 
 should make a visit to each of the families in reaching 
 distance of the school which Parsons was to teach get 
 acquainted with them, solicit their patronage and 
 ascertain how many pupils each would "sign" Yes. I
 
 62 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 am not mistaken ; "sign" is the word. Truly. 
 
 "Tempora mutantur, ft DOS inntnmur in ill is." 
 John felt better. Yes, very much better. There had 
 come a diverson. There had been a break in the 
 monotony of life. There had appeared a streak of 
 sunlight peeping through the clouds, and the teacher 
 in prospect asked himself. What Next ?
 
 CHAPTER IIII. 
 
 "To the expanded and aspiring soul 
 
 To be but .still the thins it long has been, 
 
 Is misery " 
 
 Baillie. 
 
 "Shortly his fortune shall be lilted higher; 
 True industry doth kindle honour s lire " 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 I ^ ITH the young, a state of suspense almost invaria- 
 
 II bly produces an overweening amount of anxiety; 
 
 ^J_J^ and anxiety, long continued, has a wearing effect 
 
 upon hoth the physical and mental nature. A 
 
 somthing that is dimly outlined in the obscure future, 
 
 and which one is anxious to obtain, but which he 
 
 knows there is a possibility of his losing, can but result 
 
 in deep-seated restiveness, a champing of the bit, as it 
 
 were a desire, amounting almost to resolution, to 
 
 go forward to risk whatever is to come. 
 
 John Parsons had long wanted employment, he 
 panted for the privilege of being put in a position 
 where he could show his pluck on the up-grade of life. 
 He knew, full well, that in making the down-grade, 
 there were too few who knew anything about handling 
 the brakes, and hence, with these off, they rush to a 
 speedy destruction. He had waited, impatiently 
 perchance, for something to do, through days and 
 weeks. His meeting with Mr. White had kindled anew 
 the ambition of his young manhood. With the 
 termination of that interview, there seemed to be a 
 prospect of his entering upon a new exterprise, and as 
 that prospect brightened, he seemed to take on new 
 life, for, he felt that the assuming of a place of 
 responsibility, would be, for him, the opening up of 
 the second momentous period of his life.
 
 64 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 John was not only hopeful that he would secure 
 enough pupils to settle the question of his being 
 installed as the teacher of the anticipated position ; 
 he was more than hopeful. He was sanquine. In 
 consequence of his faith in the brightened outlook, he 
 entered upon the task of more fully understanding the 
 art of teaching. That he was prepared, so far as his 
 own education in books was concerned, he felt fully 
 assured ; but, although this was true, he recognized 
 the fact, that even in the rudiments of teaching, he 
 was scarcely a novitiate. He therefore discussed with 
 himself, and with others, the subject of discipline, as 
 connected Avith the school-room, and the decision was 
 reached that a complete up-turning of the old arbitrary 
 way of trying to force students along the educational 
 high-way, was absolutely an indispensible necessity to 
 success. Other questions immediately connected with 
 the foregoing, and some of them growing out of the 
 discipline discussion, were examined by him, and 
 conclusions reached, that the whole system of teaching 
 was rudis indigent a moles. 
 
 In order to succed, Parsons became satisfied that 
 innovations upon the old style of conducting schools 
 would have to be so numerous that there would be 
 a possibility of his bringing himself under the censure 
 of those who were disposed to rebel against the 
 introduction of things novel. This, he thought, might 
 operate to his detriment, especially with the more 
 ignorant in the community. But, while he believed 
 there might lurk some danger in the experiment, the 
 honesty of his conscience would not allow him to shrink 
 from a determination to adopt such plans as would 
 redound to the best interest of those whom he 
 expected to serve.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 65 
 
 With this conclusion to which Parsons arrived, 
 held as a stereotyped conviction in his mind, he 
 dismissed the discussion thereof and awaited further 
 orders. 
 
 While John and Mr. White were out, upon the day 
 specified, with a view of making the proposed visits 
 among those in the neighborhood who had children 
 who ought to be sent to school, it seemed to him like 
 a hunt among the quarries for specimens to be 
 chiseled into something more attractive ; that what he 
 and his chaperon might gather up would constitute the 
 first material upon which to begin the work, and that 
 with this beginning, would be laid the corner stone 
 of a temple of usefulness which he aspired to build. 
 
 Hopefulness is, ordinarily, a large ingredient in the 
 mental organism of the young, and it was well that 
 John Parsons was not an exception to the rule. How 
 readily he arose from a condition of semi-despondency 
 to one of buoyancy ! No sooner had there been 
 presented to him the chance of a prospective business, 
 than he began to weave visions of brightness for his 
 future. This, as a feature in the general character of the 
 young, is well. It incites to progress, and if permitted to 
 be an actuating principle among them, it would not be 
 slow in preaching the funeral of that hackneyed phrase, 
 "0,let well enough alone!" This has been the cry upon 
 which have been rung the changes, by the old, in the 
 ages agone, and ever proved, when carried out, a check 
 to the wheel of progress. 
 
 In the effort which Parsons and his friend made, 
 during the day which had been designated as the one 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 5.
 
 66 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 in which they were to seek for "signers" to the 
 proposed school, they received a number of back 
 sets, and one or two rather sullen rebuffs. 
 
 One good old farmer, to whom an application was 
 made for pupils, and who had a number of children of 
 the right age, actually took Mr. White to one side and 
 whispered a stubborn remonstrance into his ear against 
 the importation of a boy teacher into the neighborhood. 
 Casting a dubious glance at the young man who was 
 posing in their presence as a prospective teacher, for, 
 really Mr. White did the larger share of the talking, 
 these fathers would, with apparent reluctance finally 
 agree to "sign" a scholar, or a scholar and a half, the 
 number signed being considered the measure of their 
 faith in the specimen of youthful humanity who stood 
 before them, having been introduced and recommended 
 by their neighbor and friend, Mr. Hiden White. It 
 was very evident from their manner of "signing" that 
 there was considerable incredulity in the minds of a 
 majority of those to whom application was made for 
 pupils. They were illiberal in their proposed patron 
 age. This exhibited want of confidence, even with the 
 assurances which Mr. White gave them that the young 
 man came with better recommedations, from those 
 who knew him best, than any former teacher had 
 ever brought into the neighborhood. This had quite a 
 dampening effect upon the spirits of Parsons, and 
 looked to him a little like those parties were disposed 
 to get out a novel style of injunction to prevent the 
 opening of the school at the time which had been 
 designated by Mr. White. 
 
 To some of the parties having children to send to 
 school, but who were more backward, or irresolute
 
 WHAT NEXT? 67 
 
 than others, Mr. White proposed that the young man 
 should at least be given a trial, and himself agreed to 
 be responsible, and wear the blame of everything in the 
 way of failure that might result from the experiment. 
 
 In the midst of his rounds and these encountered 
 difficulties, Parsons was reticent and had nothing to 
 say in self-commendation. When questioned as to his 
 qualifications for a teacher, he would modestly answer 
 that he thought himself educationally fitted for a 
 teacher, and would only ask that an opportunity might 
 be given for testing his qualifications. He remarked 
 to more than one of these questions, that Mr. White 
 had furnished them with testimonials as to his ability 
 and fitness for such a position. "You must let these 
 testimonials go," he said, "for what they are worth. 
 Possibly they are overdrawn, because of their being 
 drawn by my personal friends. If you feel inclined to 
 ask furrier proof of my ability, as a personal recom- 
 menda\ion, with no disguisement whatever, I frankly 
 say to you, I have none to offer except a clean record 
 and a willingness to try. If there is anything else, 
 along this line, which you wish to know, I shall have 
 to ask Mr. White to be my sponsor. I hereby escape 
 the semblance of egotism." 
 
 To secure even the minimum number of pupils, 
 with which it was proposed the school should be 
 opened, proved to be not only a difficult but a dispirit 
 ing task. But John put on a bold front, worked his 
 resolution up to a fever heat, and determined not to 
 go down before the onslaught which incredulity was 
 making upon his breast- work of resolves. Amid all 
 the discouragements which had, at every turn, 
 confronted Parsons, it WPS, at last, ascertained that
 
 68 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 the number of pupils necessary to the opening 
 of the school had been secured, and that the 
 untried but confident youth would be installed as the 
 chosen teacher of the White school on the following 
 Monday morning. 
 
 In reflecting upon the ordeal through which he had 
 passed, in his rambling tour through the school district, 
 John felt that in that fight his object had largely been 
 to secure material upon which to work, by overcoming 
 prejudice. With the opening of a new working week, 
 he would enter upon an untried field. The fight to be 
 then inaugurated would be an open warfare against 
 ignorance would be the effort of a new and untried 
 leader, to pilot immortal spirits up a few of the 
 ascending steps, over which the neophyte must travel, 
 before daring sublimer heights, or catching glimpses of 
 the supernal beauties which grow in unwithering verdure 
 and unsullied brightness, in a land of perfect i^eace. 
 
 When Monday morning came, John was up with the 
 lark, and, not owning a horse, and too poor to buy 
 one, he was soon on his way afoot and traveling with 
 the nimbleness and fleetness of an Indian. The sun 
 was scarcely up. The odor of the autumn flowers still 
 lingered in the lap of the morning. Dew-drops 
 suspended in trembling vibrations from every leaf, 
 twig, and spear of grass, sparkled with more than 
 diamond lustre, in reflecting the brightness of the 
 uprising sun. Nature s own choristers, in wood and 
 glen, were vieing with each other, as to whose matin 
 orison should be lifted highest heavenward. 
 
 The morning was beautiful. Its brightness and the 
 exhilirating effect of the autumn air, was accepted by 
 young Parsons, as a presage of the opening up
 
 WHAT NEXT? 69 
 
 of something really good for him in his new venture. 
 Heaven smiled, and in those smiles he felt that nature 
 was prophesying for him hetter days. With a far 
 lighter heart than he had worn for many a day, he 
 caught an inspiration from the glory of morning, and 
 sped along the way as though he had heen hitched to 
 sails that were heing pushed forward by the morning 
 breeze. 
 
 Making a landing in front of the somewhat 
 dilapidated school-house. John sprang into the room 
 just in time to have called the roll, had there been one 
 to call. 
 
 The newly installed pedagogue did not expect much 
 in the way of pupils to start with. The number on the 
 subscription list did not warrant him in expecting 
 much, as a beginning, but. even the number which 
 came fell below his expectations, and he was, 
 consequently, disappointed. 
 
 Seven little barefooted girls, nicely and tidily clad, 
 were all who put in an appearance as pupils. The 
 complexions of these children were as fresh as petals of 
 dew-ladened roses ; their countenances were as bright 
 as freshly coined money, just from the mint. There 
 were but seven of them all from one particular locality 
 in the district who met the young teacher on the 
 morning of his initiation into the mysteries of keeping 
 school. 
 
 At the outlook Parsons was disappointed, but did 
 not complain ; he was just a wee bit dispirited, but 
 did not fret ; he was half sorrowful, but did not become 
 petulant. He did not mope in sullenness because there 
 were so few, even of the number who had been 
 "signed," that were in at the opening of the school.
 
 70 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 Parsons knew that courage or pluck was one of the 
 ingredients of success, and therefore did not become 
 dejected because things had not gone, during his first 
 day s real work, just as he had expected it would ; he 
 did not censure an} 7 mythological diety, nor dame 
 nature, that, in turning the wheel of fortune, none of 
 their golden misted gifts were poured into his lap. 
 
 The young teacher s surroundings were truly trying. 
 but his bravery was equal to his trial ; for, while 
 seeming to have forgotten, for a short time, both 
 himself and his environments, the musical voice of 
 one of the little girls, in the asking of an unimportant 
 question, awakened him from his reverie and drew his 
 attention to the w r ants of his very small class of very 
 young children. 
 
 Having an easy agreeable manner coupled with a 
 very pleasant voice, Parsons soon found himself 
 gaining favor by a course of catechism in the minds of 
 the sweet-faced little girls, and before the day s work, 
 such as it was, had closed, John Parsons had found 
 his way to the hearts of seven little Misses, and they 
 were his firm, fast, devoted friends. 
 
 The smiling faces and speaking eyes of these 
 beautiful children as they gave their teacher a parting 
 salute for the day, could not have been easily 
 misinterpreted. There was that in their expressions 
 which seemed to say "we shall like our teacher." There 
 was in his good-by a something that seemed to sound 
 like "I shall love my little pupils." In fact, the first 
 link on that first day was forged, which John intended 
 should be the nucleus of a long-linked chain of genuine 
 friendships held at one end by his own hand, and 
 grasped at the other by the united strength of the hands 
 of every pupil who might come under his control.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 71 
 
 It would seem from the recital of the first day s 
 experience of the young teacher, that he had started 
 early in his career, to make radical changes in the old 
 system of managing pupils; that is, inducing them to 
 receive instruction for the love of it, and the benefit to 
 be derived from it, rather than to undertake to study as a 
 kind of drudgery, to which they must, in many 
 instances, be driven like the galley slave. This was 
 John s first move in the direction of introducing 
 novelties in the system of instruction, and, though the 
 beginning was small, it was intended by him to be 
 rapidly followed up by many changes equally important. 
 
 Day after day, for more than a week, the same lucky 
 number of little girls were all that came to drink from 
 the new style fountain of learning that John Parsons 
 had set in motion in the White school. The little 
 learners hung upon the words of their young instructor 
 as though he were the embodiment of majesty and 
 magic. They all loved him, as they said, because he 
 was not like any other teacher to whom they had ever 
 gone. These little folks had not had much experience 
 with other teachers, but the young are sharp critics, 
 and, while they could not define the clear-cut lines of 
 difference between what their present instructor was, 
 as compared with their experience in one or two other 
 schools to which they had gone, it was very evident 
 that they appreciated the change. With a bravery that 
 was worthy of the hero he was, he trusted in the 
 prophecy of a fortune-giving seven, and as valliantly 
 w r orked for that seven as he would have done for a 
 battalion of equally good pupils. 
 
 The new regime, as introduced in Parsons school, 
 being a wedlock between learning and love, the seven
 
 72 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 sweet disciples who were seeking wisdom at the feet of 
 their new master, were not slow in publishing through 
 out the entire neighborhood and beyond it their 
 admiration for the boy teacher. 
 
 The advertisement which these little Misses gave to 
 Mr. Parsons and his school, had its effect. Within a 
 few weeks pupils from every part of the district came 
 to put themselves under the instruction of John 
 Parsons. A few weeks later, and pupils from outside 
 the district were making application for places in his 
 school. A few weeks later still, and pupils from other 
 parts of the count} were seeking admission into the 
 White district, and applying for board, that they too 
 might sit at the feet of a man whom some of his most 
 enthusiastic admirers considered a modern Gamaliel. 
 
 As the annual session drew to a close, it was very 
 apparent that the old school building was inadequate 
 to meet the future wants of the growing school. With 
 that, as the existing status of affairs, John hardly 
 knew what to say, even as suggestions. He felt very 
 loath to push upon their consideration the question of 
 building, and when the subject was named to him, he 
 simply responded, "Gentlemen, the conditions and 
 necessities of the case are before you. Do. as in 
 your wisdom, you think best." 
 
 Some days after this reply was made by Parsons, a 
 committee was appointed to take under advisement 
 the matter of building, and the result of their 
 deliberations was, that the increase in the size of the 
 school demanded the immediate construction of a new 
 school-house, and that the convenience of the building 
 to the wants of the people whose children were to be 
 sent to the school, demanded that a more central 
 location should be secured upon which to build.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 73 
 
 As soon as this committee had made its report, John 
 was informed as to what they had decided upon, and 
 was invited to inspect the location, which had been 
 selected as a site for the building, and was apprised of 
 their intention to enter at once upon preparations to 
 erect thereon a building and have it finished in time 
 to be occupied by the opening of the next fall term. 
 . John was not at all pleased with the situation 
 selected, and upon which it was proposed to build. It 
 was true that it was as near the center of the district 
 as any plat of ground they could have obtained, but it 
 lay in a bad shape. The ground was uneven and 
 seemed to lie in angles formed by the head of three 
 shallow ravines. But John kept his objection to 
 himself, and so the house was soon in progress of 
 construction. 
 
 Vacation time came and the young pedagogue made 
 good use of it. He became a visitor to many parts of 
 his own county, as well as to other portions of the State. 
 His popularity seemed to have been commensurate 
 in growth with his almost unprecedented success in 
 his first venture as a tutor. Go where he might, there 
 were but few places visited to which his reputation 
 and good luck in teaching had not preceded him, and 
 where complimentary speeches were not made about 
 him. 
 
 Had Parsons not been a man of well-balanced mind 
 he would have become somewhat inflated over the 
 flattery that was poured upon him. But, much as has 
 been said and written about sudden changes in the life 
 and fortune of young men spoiling them ; and many 
 as have been the examples of overweening egotism, as 
 the outgrowth of flattery; with him, his apparent
 
 74 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 growth in popularity, nor the number of handsome 
 speeches made to him and about him, seemed to have 
 not the slightest effect towards exciting his vanity. He 
 had, doubtless, an important question under consider 
 ation, and that would have sufficed to hold in 
 check the uprising of any self-conceit or vanity in the 
 young man. The success that had attended his 
 incipient efforts, no doubt, stimulated his ambition 
 and created a profounder resolve in the mind of the 
 young man, to still push forward to the attainment 
 of better things in his work. 
 
 From necessity and not from choice, he was 
 compelled to engage in teaching. There was nothing 
 else in sight for him to do, except at the sacrifice of 
 personal independence or to load himself down under 
 the weight of an enormous debt of gratitude. He had 
 tried teaching. His experience in that work, although 
 but scanty in amount, had given some satisfaction at 
 least, to his panting spirit. There was nothing better, 
 as far as he could discern, within the limit of his 
 perspective, which he could undertake and follow 
 out with his limited means. He therefore full} 7 made 
 up his mind to undertake the business of tutor to the 
 young, as a lifetime vocation, and, with this fixed 
 resolve, he prepared himself to enter the new building, 
 for a new session, with an unfurled but modest banner, 
 which bore the mental resolve that, come what might, 
 he was in the work for life, and that an important 
 constituent in that resolve was to know no compromise 
 with anything that offered opposition to his success. 
 
 The compensation, even to a well qualified teacher, 
 in those days, now so long past, was very meager. As 
 a result of this, the pedagogue of that olden time
 
 WHAT NEXT? 75 
 
 plodded his way along life s pathway, living poor and 
 dying poor. With such wages as were then paid to 
 the worthy worker in the school-room, he could live, 
 hut that was ahout all. 
 
 John Parsons amhition prompted to more than this 
 tread-mill style of living, and pauper style of dj ing. 
 As a poor gentleman, to the manor born, his fiery 
 Scotch blood bade him aspire to something above the 
 common canaille. His associates were among the very 
 best people in the land. He knew that mammon 
 wielded a most potent influence among a certain class 
 of citizens, but felt glad to believe that, among the 
 masses the finer qualities of human nature were at a 
 premium that genius was admired that true moral 
 manliness was a virtue, and that politeness was a 
 prime requisite, as a passport among the truly good. 
 These were requisites which he knew were needed, 
 <even if the pockets of those who wore them were not 
 especially plethoric with gold, nor their anticipations 
 silvery, because of the anticipated death of an affluent 
 grandfather. 
 
 In those early days of Kentucky s history the roads 
 were not good and, in fact, became almost impassable 
 at certain seasons of the year. The chief means of 
 locomotion was afoot or on horseback. A carriage was 
 a novelty, a buggy a rarity. This fact gave rise to the 
 practice of equestrianism to such an extent, that it 
 was rare to find a young gentleman or lady who was 
 not an expert in horseback riding. To have seen a 
 man traveling on the highway, in a carriage, in the part 
 of Kentucky wherein lived the parties herein mentioned, 
 would have created almost as much wonderment as did 
 the advent of the first menagerie into town, with its one
 
 76 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 elephant wearing a heavy covering, and only permitted 
 to make its entrance after night-fall, and be hurried off to 
 be concealed in some stable in the outskirts of the 
 village. 
 
 It will be remembered, that, so far in John s recent 
 history, he had been using walkers line of travel; not 
 by preference, but from necessity. Footpads were not 
 at as big a discount then as tney now are. Traveling 
 beggars, with a very foreign accent, and very foreign 
 testimonial that each had been 
 
 "Murdered, and shipwrecked, and sold, for a slave. 
 And on the dry land, met a watery grave," 
 
 were fast losing favor in the estimation of charitable 
 people, and tramps were introduced at a much later 
 period. 
 
 Parsons had done considerable walking, but not 
 enough to put his name in either of the above catego 
 ries, and hence he wanted a horse. By and by he 
 bought one and had him richly caparisoned. The 
 animal was a very fine specimen of the equine family, 
 and his owner prized him very highly. 
 
 The young man had hardly learned as yet what 
 jealousy meant, but he sometimes felt a little piqued 
 that the symmetry and beauty of his fine steed should 
 attract more attention and elicit more notice than did 
 his rider. 
 
 The aesthetic taste of the young teacher, in almost 
 everything, was exceptionally good. He was a hand 
 some figure, and every article of wearing apparel in 
 which he appeared, both in material and make, were 
 suited to set off his fine figure to good effect. His 
 clothing never gave him a stiff or starchy appearance. 
 In whatever he arraved himself, it was worn with
 
 WHAT NEXT? 77 
 
 unmistakable ease and comfort, and without any seem 
 ing desire to attract attention to his habiliments. He 
 was in no sense dudish, much less a dude. 
 
 As has been previously proven, John Parsons 
 descended from honest stock. From both paternal 
 and maternal grand parents he had by inheritance, by 
 precept, and by example been taught to fully under 
 stand the principles of honesty. From his own parents 
 he had had seeds of honest} deeply and firmly re-rooted 
 in his young nature. With the convictions which he 
 brought from beneath the shelter of home; nothing 
 said or done with the view of practicing deception was 
 right nothing said or done \vith the view of reck 
 lessly paining a human heart, could be called anything 
 other than villainy that nothing said or done, with a 
 view to wantonly arousing a false hope, in the mind of 
 even the most unsuspecting and credulous was any 
 thing other than a species of God-dishonoring dishon 
 esty. With these views indelibly impressed upon his 
 mind, it is not surprising that the scrupulous exactness 
 of his Scottish progenitors should have prompted him 
 to detest anything that approximated hypocrisy. 
 
 In consequence of these opinions John detested 
 coquetry. He claimed that the word was defined to 
 be an attempt to attract admiration, with the design 
 of deceiving ; and, putting the best definition upon 
 deceit that he could apply thereto, he could not find a 
 definition to coquetry that would fit it better than to 
 say it simply meant lying. 
 
 The vacation, upon which the young preceptor 
 entered after the close of his first session was 
 pleasantly and possibly profitably spent. Having been 
 promoted from a foot-traveler on the common highway
 
 78 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 to an equestrian, by the purchase of a beautiful and 
 spirited horse, he became elevated, but not inflated, 
 and consequently his popularity received no backset 
 by his upset. The pleasure which he derived from 
 having a furlough from the confinement of the school 
 room, came to him in the enjoyment which he found 
 in companionship of friends, and in the making of 
 new friends and thereby widening the circle of his 
 acquaintances. The profitable part of his resting spell 
 was found in the uninterrupted attention he could have 
 now and then, for the further and better qualifj ing- 
 himself by earnest study for the further prosecution of 
 his life-work. 
 
 That the young disciple of scholasticism should have 
 attracted the attention of young ladies in his own and 
 other communities was not a matter of surprise. 
 
 The natural affinity between the sexes, would, of 
 course, have been expected to allow an honest admira 
 tion to be exhibited upon the part of the young 
 people for each other, when thrown together. John had 
 not had any special instruction along the line which 
 might have been expected to engender a fondness for 
 female society. His instincts proved to be quite 
 sharp, however, and that he soon exhibited his 
 fondness for the company of ladies seemed quite 
 natural. But that the praise, profusely bestowed upon 
 him by handsome and sprightby young ladies, in a kind 
 of half hidden style, should have given rise to nothing 
 like vanity, was certainly unnatural. That the charms 
 of female loveliness should have challenged his 
 admiration and called forth expressions of complimen 
 tary praise, was but natural. That among the stylish 
 and bright-eyed girls in whose company he was so often
 
 WHAT NEXT? 79 
 
 thrown, he should not have found some sweet specimen 
 of developing womanhood, whose personal attractions 
 could set his heart to unwonted throbbing, was 
 unnatural. Indeed, to say that he met no enchanting 
 fairj* in human form, whose fascinations became mystic 
 pictures to hang on memory s wall, troubling both his 
 walking and sleeping dreams, was an acknowledg 
 ment that John Parsons was an exception to young 
 men generally. 
 
 There was nothing in the general demeanor of the 
 young man, that showed a want of appreciation of 
 acts of kindness towards himself. For the smallest 
 favors he was ever thankful, and was delighted when 
 ever an opportunity presented itself for his bestowing 
 a favor upon even a stranger. 
 
 These features of John s character made friends for 
 him, and worked up an increasing popularity in his 
 behalf. His patrons placed a very high estimate upon 
 his moral and intellectual worth, and his pupils, in their 
 admiration for him claimed no bounds for their 
 praise. 
 
 Parsons felt that he had made his first step in the 
 direction of success that he was no longer in any 
 special pecuniary trouble. Big indeed, were the 
 resolves he made to still push his efforts towards 
 something better in the way of individual advance 
 ment by the prosecution of his future work. That his 
 expectations had not been fully met in what he had 
 accomplished in the year now about gone, he readily 
 admitted to himself, but, accompanying that admiss 
 ion, he was ready to say it might have been worse. 
 
 It was well that John was hopeful, for his hopeful 
 ness ever served as a spur to his actions. Did the
 
 80 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 work of a day fall below his adopted standard, he was 
 ready to say, it may be made better tomorrow. With 
 the execution of promised plans, even when there was 
 partial failure, he was not disposed to complain; but 
 with a pluck worthy of the man, he would say: "it is 
 finished, even if not well done, now What Next?"
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 "Knowest thou not yet, when love invaded the soul 
 That all her faculties receive hiw chains ; 
 Tliat reason gives her sceptre to his hand, 
 Or only struggles to be be more enslaved ?" 
 
 Dr. Johnson. 
 
 IflfFHE vacation passed. The day for the christening 
 Jll 
 
 Id/ 
 
 II f the new sc hl h use was a t hand. In the 
 J| early morning John Parsons began his prepar 
 ations for an introduction to his new seat of 
 labor, and, to some extent, to a new set of workers in 
 his educational vineyard. Even when the assembly hour 
 had about arrived, he had not still put in his appearance, 
 and those in the room who had not met him, grew a 
 very little impatient over his delay. However, within a 
 few minutes of the time for rapping for order, the 
 young teacher stepped into the room and, with a polite 
 bow saluted the assembled students. The house was 
 nearly full, and among those present, there were 
 seventeen young men older than Parsons, who had 
 come chiefly from other neighborhoods as well as 
 other counties, to enroll themselves among the pupils 
 of his school. Besides the young men, some of whom 
 Parsons had never met, there were other pupils of 
 both sexes among them were girls nearly grown. But 
 among all those present there were none whom he 
 more gladly welcomed than the "lucky seven," who, 
 bright-faced and joyous, gladly received their teacher 
 with a sweet "Good Morning!" Among those who 
 had assembled in that room there were none for whom 
 Parsons felt so tender an attachment as he did for 
 
 WHAT M-XT? 6.
 
 82 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 these seven. Somehow, he felt to look upon them as 
 the nucleus of the body of pupils who had gathered 
 into his fold. 
 
 The installment was without any special prelim 
 inaries. Parsons was the recognized leader, but not a 
 stubborn autocrat. He was a man who, as all present 
 readily saw, had divested himself of the terror and un- 
 approachableness, which characterized the pedagogues 
 who preceded him. As he stood in the midst of that 
 little throng, he seemed by his gentleness, his urbane 
 bearing and his apparent suitableness for the place to 
 be a born leader a patient sympathizing leader a 
 genuine friend to the young, and an accomplished 
 gentleman withal. 
 
 Such an ingathering of young folks, in a common 
 country school, was a matter of gratification to its 
 teacher. The patrons were greatly surprised, as well 
 as somewhat flattered, that the school should have 
 opened so prosperously. Those persons in the commu 
 nity who had no direct personal interest in the 
 education of its children, now and then were heard to 
 indulge in a sparing compliment to the young teacher. 
 A new broom sweeps clean; wait till it has been 
 used a bit, and if it then stirs up no more dust than it 
 does to-day, you may think yourselves fortunate in 
 securing a man, who is such, in more respects than one. 
 
 Looking about him, Parsons readily saw that his 
 work was multiplying upon his hands. Nothing daunt 
 ed, however, his energy and resolution were equal to the 
 the emergency; for a fixed purpose was at once formed 
 that nothing should be omitted on his part that would 
 tend to make the school, before which he then stood, a 
 decided and complete success. That he succeeded in
 
 WHAT NEXT? 83 
 
 his resolve beyond the most sanguine expectations of his 
 supporters, was apparent as to whether his^work met 
 the demands of his hope, none knew but himself. Of 
 one thing, however, he did dare to speak; and that 
 was, that the measure of success which had attended 
 his efforts, was largely due to his own independent 
 methods. 
 
 This was acknowledged by many to be true. It was 
 said that he followed no old time-worn- grooves, except 
 those grooves suited his ideas of right. That changes 
 and innovations had been made in the stereotyped 
 methods of the old pedagogues, was apparent to all 
 who felt sufficiently interested to investigate his 
 methods of proceedure. With these radical changes 
 came frequent uncomplimentary criticisms ; still his 
 interested patrons were heard to say, "He certainly 
 succeeds in imparting instruction, but how he does it 
 I cannot say." Passers-by who had no interest in the 
 school were often heard to say, "The teacher of that 
 school is doing no good. The younger class of pupils 
 seem to spend the most of their time in out-door 
 sports." 
 
 These and other similar criticisms would sometimes 
 be made in the presence of earnest supporters of the 
 new teacher and they would be more than ready to 
 make a response, something like this : "My friends, let 
 that teacher, his school, and his work alone. My little 
 children have learned more Jrom him in three months 
 than my older children did, at their ages, in two years. 
 What care I about their being out at play, for any 
 length of time during the day, provided their progress 
 is all right ? The little fellows are hearty, healthy and 
 happy. When the morning comes, all of my
 
 84 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 children whom I send to school are anxious to be off 
 and away with their dinner and books. There is no 
 pulling back, nor asking to be excused for some trivial 
 reason. In fact, even when there is a good purpose in 
 keeping any one of them away from school, for 
 a day or two, there is a loud protest against this 
 decision. 
 
 "Again, when the evening draws on apace, and the 
 time of my children s return is at hand, their merry 
 gambolings and cheery laughter, seen and heard in the 
 distance, is more than a golden guarantee that no one 
 of them wears a sad heart because of tyranical 
 mistreatment. Even little Jennie, our baby girl, is 
 anxious to tell her father something that Mr. Parsons 
 has said or done during the day just past. She is 
 even persistent in holding my attention as her auditor, 
 and will not be satisfied till she has been heard. In 
 these little manifestations of expanding thought, 
 repeated, as they are, in the rambling prattle of my 
 innocent children, it is clearly shown that the young 
 teacher has found his way to their hearts, and that 
 their confidence in him, and their respect for him 
 sanction and appove the sowing of truths, little by 
 little, in their minds. Let them and him alone. He 
 is, in reality, the only genuinely live teacher we have 
 ever had in our neighborhood, and certainly knows 
 what he is doing." 
 
 At the close of Parsons second school-year, he made 
 a visit to a near relative living in a distant part of the 
 State, and, while there, he formed an acquaintance 
 with quite a number of young people with whom he 
 was very much pleased.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 85 
 
 The uncle and aunt to whom John made this visit 
 had not seen their nephew "since he was but a small 
 boy, and being pleased with his general appearance as 
 well as his seeming mental vigor, at once resolved to 
 do what they could, in the way of contributing to the 
 pleasure of their kinsman s visit. 
 
 This uncle was "quite well to do," as was some 
 times said of the man who lived in affluence. He had 
 no children, and was nevertheless very fond of the 
 company of the young. These facts being true, it was 
 not at all strange that the home of these two people, 
 who. notwithstanding they were advanced in years, 
 should have been a frequent resort for young ladies. 
 
 Mr. Raymond Parsons, for such was the name of 
 John s uncle, having found, by a somewhat rigid course 
 of catechism, that the nephew had brought with him 
 no half-cured cicatrices, indicating former wounds from 
 the arrows of the blind god, nor that he was the wearer 
 of any fresh scars from the same hoodwinked archer, 
 determined at once to set on foot a plan for starting a 
 little bit of practice in sharp-shooting to be directed by 
 the tiny son of Venus. 
 
 For the accomplishment of this purpose, it would 
 be necessary to find some bright-eyed specimen of 
 womanhood who would be willing to lend a helping 
 hand to Aphrodite s spoiled child, he only needing to 
 have his blinded aim directed to the center of the 
 target. 
 
 Mr. Parsons, Sr., believing himself to be possessed 
 of a liberal share of aesthetic taste, concluded that a 
 young lady with whom he was well acquainted, and 
 who, together with other young ladies, was a some 
 what frequent visitor at his home, was the very party
 
 86 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 to be made the indicated object of the proposed trial 
 at archerj . The elder Parsons, being fully acquainted, 
 not only with the young lady herself, and her general 
 characteristics, but with her family history as well, 
 thought her a most admirable specimen of her sex, 
 and that she would make some man a most excellent 
 and devoted wife. John s aunt fully endorsed any com 
 pliment that her husband might pay to the young lad} T 
 in question, and, in true maternal style, informed her 
 nephew that there was no brighter girlhood jewel in 
 all that country than Miss Mary Lawson. 
 
 Mrs. Lawson, the mother of Miss Mary, was a widow 
 for the second time, and had three children, all 
 daughters one by her first marriage and two by her 
 second. The daughter of the first marriage was 
 herself a widow, and because of her disposition as well 
 as her age and a somewhat varied experience, had 
 considerable influence with her mother and her counsel 
 was a kind sine qua non with her two half sisters. 
 
 The party who had such a controlling influence over 
 her sisters had been quite unfortunate in her matri 
 monial venture and was therefore rather a poor 
 confidential counselor to those who were discussing 
 with themselves the attributes which ought to recom 
 mend a young man who might "a wooing come." 
 
 She had been, what would be called in modern 
 parlance, a society woman. She was, before her 
 marriage, thought to be quite handsome. She posses- 
 ed considerable mental activity, and was popular. 
 But, like a great many women of our day, even in that 
 far away time, the glitter, the show, and the sham of 
 society were the things to which she sacrified the best 
 offering of her young mind and body. The rate at
 
 WHAT NEXT? 87 
 
 which the wheels of progress moved were too tardy to 
 suit her ambition. She wanted the young women of 
 her time to demand an acceleration in the machinery 
 which moved the steps of fashionable society. She 
 admired men of dash, as she expressed it men who 
 dressed a la mode men who drove fast and fancy 
 teams. 
 
 For the reasons named, Mrs. Nora Gaines, the 
 widowed sister of Miss Mary Lawson, in her anti- 
 marital state, scarcely gave the consideration of 
 business qualifications a passing thought. The painted 
 gew-gaws, and pretentious frauds of society were the 
 baits to which she was attracted, and by which she 
 was ultimately caught. The angler who succeeded in 
 putting her upon his string, was, to all intents and 
 purposes, what was then styled a dandy, but who, in 
 modern parlance would be called a dude. Fast living, 
 heavy sporting and midnight reveling had made serious 
 inroads upon his constitution, even before his marriage, 
 and, with scarcely the length of two honeymoons 
 enjoyed in wedlock, this sample of fast and fashion 
 able manhood passes into the unseen. 
 
 Early impressions are the hardest to eradicate, and 
 although Mrs. Gaines had passed through an ordeal 
 that ought surely to have corrected some of her errone 
 ous notions in regard to what it takes to make the sum 
 of true merit in man, her opinions, in regard to 
 what the genuine attractions of men were, found but 
 little modification in her mind by even a bitter experi 
 ence. As a young widow, she was both gay and giddy. 
 Her badges of mourning were well nigh as short-lived 
 as had been her married experience ; and, again out in 
 society, she seemed to have changed her fancies in
 
 88 WI?AT NEXT? 
 
 no noticeable particular. The gaudy trappings of 
 fashionable society had lost none of their attractiveness, 
 nor had genuine merit gained any foothold upon her 
 appreciation. 
 
 When John s uncle had delivered himself of the 
 summary of encomiums which he bestowed upon Miss 
 Mary Lawson, he instituted quite a striking contrast 
 between Miss Mary and her widowed sister. In fact 
 he ran through a kind of epitome of the family history 
 and genealogical pedigree. He had known the family 
 through many 3*ears, and was consequently well 
 informed as to the general characteristics of the entire 
 household. 
 
 Mary Lawson was an especial favorite of John s 
 uncle. He had known her from infancy, and even 
 while she was only a young specimen of a school girl, 
 he regarded her as especially handsome, and from her 
 visits to his home, he had discovered some of the most 
 amiable and lovety traits of character that he had ever 
 known to be possessed by any one. He had watched 
 her gradual development into womanhood, and, with 
 that unfolding, he had noticed that the superior charms 
 which she possessed, crowned as were hers, with an 
 embellishment of modest}*, made her an object of 
 especial admiration. 
 
 With the opinion which John s uncle entertained 
 with regard to the mental embellishments, as well as to 
 the physical beauty of Miss Lawson, it is not to be 
 Avondered at, that he should have recommended her to 
 his nephew as a prize of rare worth. 
 
 "I would not, under any circumstances, be consid 
 ered as desiring to push upon your notice even so 
 worthy an object of admiration as the young lady
 
 WHAT NEXT? 89 
 
 named," said John s uncle. "But inasmuch as you 
 are my guest, as well as my kinsman, I desire that you 
 shall have a real good time while you are with us, and 
 I presume I have violated no law of hospitality or 
 politeness, by selecting for you a sweetheart pro tern., 
 from among our nice and worthy girls. I want you to 
 become acquainted with Miss Mary Lawson, and my 
 word for it, I think you will recognize the fact that 
 your uncle has good judgment as well as good taste." 
 
 "From the recommendation which you and my dear 
 aunt give the young lady in question," said John, "I 
 have already a kind of half admiration awakened in 
 1113- mind from the contemplation of a word picture you 
 have drawn of the young lady for my inspection. What 
 my impression will be from viewing her who has 
 evidently sat for the portraiture you have k drawn, I 
 have, of course, no means of knowing. I would not 
 flatter myself as being endowed with any unusual 
 amount of the aesthetic in taste, but may be permitted 
 to say, without any imputation of egotism, that the 
 very acme of natural beauty is easily discovered by 
 my eyes, in the feature and form of a beautiful woman; 
 I would, however, have it distinctly understood, that 
 beauty is not found in a classic but passionless face 
 not found in a symmetrical form, except the symmetry, 
 wedded to ease and grace of motion and nimbleness of 
 body is conspicuously present in locomotion." 
 
 "Indeed you seem to have studied some of the chief 
 features in human beauty at least, and to have 
 prepared yourself by an analysis of The human form 
 divine, to be your own judge of what it takes to 
 constitute true beauty," says the uncle.
 
 "90 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 "There is no accounting for taste, said the Roman 
 philosopher in the long ago. It is well, I suppose," 
 said John, "that the above is a trueism, else there 
 would be a most stupendous amount of dissatisfaction 
 with a very large majority of the human family because 
 of an insufficiency of approved material to meet the 
 demands of an overwhelming multitude who judged 
 beauty according to precisely the same rules. I have 
 my own ideas of what the constituencies of beautj" are, 
 and, because my ideas may differ from yours, it by no 
 means necessarily follows that you are wrong and I am 
 right. Our tastes may be different, and this being true, 
 viewed from this standpoint, we are both right." 
 
 "There is something that is inherent in man, and 
 which, taste not considered, is a universal attribute of 
 the race, and absolutely necessary as well as universal. 
 I refer to the attraction, or affinity which one sex has 
 for the other." 
 
 "I can probably illustrate what I mean by referring 
 to a problematic case, in which a ship-wrecked child 
 found a home on an island uninhabited, save by the 
 goats which found food and shelter amid its richness, 
 and from the udders of which goats the child received 
 sustenance until he had grown into a condition of 
 self-support. By and by three seamen were cast upon 
 the island, and from these the original second Selkirk 
 learned a language, and through that became some 
 what acquainted with the world of humanity that lay 
 far beyond his horizon. After a long, weary wait of 
 years, subsequent to the washing ashore of the frail 
 craft upon which the three sailors had been saved from 
 being engulfed in Neptune s dark domain, a ship, 
 whose crew was prospecting, made a landing upon the
 
 WHAT NEXT? 91 
 
 island and rescued the four men from a worse fate 
 than lingering torment. Upon the arrival of the vessel 
 in the home-port, amid the amazing display of wonders 
 which attracted the attention of the foundling passen 
 ger, were women, who, in gay attire, were upon 
 the dock, and, never having seen a woman, he was 
 very ready to ask what the} 7 were. Upon being told 
 by one of his companions that they were geese, "It 
 matters not," said he, "what they are, I want one." 
 
 "Now, Uncle, I have never arrived at the point in 
 life when I felt that I, like the rescued foundling, 
 wanted the reputed goose. I have never been so 
 overwhelmed by the superior beauty and transcendent 
 loveliness of any woman as to feel that my heart was 
 not throbbing away in undisturbed equanimity. I am, 
 however, by no means indifferent to the attraction of 
 womanly beauty; I have already indicated that, and 
 while I may not feel myself, in any way, prepared to 
 throw myself upon the mercy of any fair nymph who 
 might feel disposed to capture me, nolens volens, I will 
 do myself the honor, as well as the pleasure of meeting 
 the noble and handsome young lady, of whom you 
 have spoken in such glowing terms, provided you will 
 favor me with an introduction at some convenient but 
 not distant period. I say distant, because, as you 
 know, my visit can be protracted through only a limited 
 stay." 
 
 "Well, John," said his uncle, "your speech is rather 
 a puzzle to me. You philosophize about matters 
 matrimonial in such a way as to lead me to infer that 
 such a subject has not been ignored in the prosecution 
 of your other studies. That you are not insensible to 
 the charms of female loveliness, you have averred, that
 
 92 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 you are not, nor have been in any entanglements, 
 whereby you have sought to win access to the heart of 
 any trusting damsel, is to me a matter of some 
 surprise. I would not seek to flatter you; but, with 
 your sprightliness with your trim and well propor 
 tioned physique with your more than passable and 
 regular features, I can hardly see how you have so far 
 escaped the toils that are so artfully thrown in the 
 pathway of young men by the outgrowth of undis 
 guised admiration. How is it John, that with these 
 common environments you have come off unscathed, 
 and that your heart is really and truly your own?" 
 
 "I know of no reason for the condition of affairs, as 
 between myself and the world of womankind, except 
 that I have been too earnestly engrossed with my 
 business to allow myself the time to take other matters 
 under consideration. I have been fond of society, but 
 I have made that fondness yield to the pressing 
 demands of my daily work." 
 
 "Well, well," said the uncle. "This may have been 
 the part of wisdom, and I am disposed to commend 
 you for it, but you are now out, I presume for pleasure 
 rather than on a business mission, and that your aunt 
 and myself may be contributors to your enjoyment, she 
 will prepare a little entertainment in honor of your 
 visit; a number of young people shall be invited; and, 
 of course Miss Mary Lawson will be among the guests. 
 I am sure she will not decline the invitation, for she is 
 too fond of your aunt to slight any proffered opportu 
 nity to give her pleasure. In the meantime, I will see 
 Miss Mary, and will, more particularly, explain to her 
 the reason why she will be especially expected. Of 
 course, I will also dish out a few handsome compli-
 
 WHAT NEXT? 93 
 
 ments in your behalf. This will be a kind of 
 semi-introduction to you, and, I am sure, will help her 
 to the formation of a favorable opinion of my young 
 kinsman. What say you?" 
 
 I am just a little bit inclined to doubt the propriety 
 of these preliminaries," said John. "However, as 
 your experience would at least warrant me in the belief 
 that you would make no serious blunders, I will defer 
 to your judgment, and I leave this whole matter in 
 your hands. But my uncle must not get me into any 
 entanglement, from which, with his help, I cannot be 
 extricated." 
 
 "All right, my boy," said the uncle, "you need 
 entertain no serious alarm over the outcome of your 
 visit. Miss Lawson is a beautiful, intelligent, sweet- 
 tempered and modest young lady. I want you to 
 meet her. I know you will admire her. Admiration 
 need not, however, develop into anything more serious. 
 Upon this point, if you feel you would be in any danger, 
 throw out your guard-lines, and keep yourself panoplied 
 for the fray." 
 
 "When is it proposed, uncle, that the indicated 
 entertainment is to take place?" 
 
 "I think your aunt has decided upon next Monday 
 night. This being Fridaj 7 , the time is but three days 
 away." 
 
 "Will Mrs. Gaines, Miss Lawson s half-sister, be 
 among those who will be invited?" 
 
 "I think she will; but I am disposed to at least 
 guess she will not accept the invitation. She is what 
 is called a "high flyer," and puts in an appearance 
 only where there is a large share of ostentatious and 
 gilded display. The gilding may be very thin, but she
 
 94 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 prefers that to the wholesome and well labled exhibit 
 of honest and industrious plenty, and, for that reason, 
 I think she will not be present. But what 
 suggested the question ?" 
 
 "Your fornjer reference to the lad}* had the effect of 
 exciting my curiosity, and I thought I might possibly 
 have the privilege of studying the contrast between 
 members of the same familj 7 after you had touched up 
 the picture of each." 
 
 "You shall have the privilege of deciding for your 
 self as to my faithfulness in picture drawing, when you 
 shall have seen the originals from which my paintings 
 were made. But, waiving the further discussion of the 
 question which we have had up. we will give heed to 
 the call of the hostler, who informs me the"""carriage is 
 in waiting to bear you, your aunt and myself to town. 
 While we are there you may possibly have an 
 opportunity of seeing one or both of the ladies 
 mentioned, even if you are not furnished with an 
 occasion for an introduction to either." 
 
 The ride to the city, although but a few miles, was 
 pleasant, especially so, as John s aunt, a very superior 
 woman, enlivened the time with her intelligent discus 
 sion of the possibilities which fortuity now and then 
 exhibited, especially in the lives of the young. 
 
 With the discussion of the live issues of the time, 
 the patient waiting upon the regular and sumptuous 
 repasts which were spread three times per day, and the 
 usual afternoon pleasure drives, the designated hour 
 for the proposed entertainment came sooner to the 
 expectant visitor than it would otherwise have done. 
 
 With the coming of the appointed hour came also a 
 number of carriages to the home of John s uncle, and
 
 WHAT XEXT? 95 
 
 from them alighted a number of sweet-scented, frilled 
 and furbelowed 3 T oung ladies and their shampooed, 
 barbered and mustache-curled attendents. [Bear in 
 mind, please, that the section of country from which 
 this especial scene was taken was much farther 
 advanced in many respects than was John s part of the 
 State, especially in its means of locomotion.] 
 
 The young people having been escorted into the 
 house by the host, each, in turn, received an introduc 
 tion to young Mr. Parsons, who gracefully returned the 
 salutations of the young men, and, with becoming 
 dignity, bowed to the recognition of each young lady. 
 When he received his introdction to Miss Mary Lawson 
 a slight flush was observed to have suffused his face, 
 and, to the careful observer, might have betrayed a 
 bit of momentary excitement. With all John s self 
 control, this flush could not be kept from putting itself 
 on exhibition ; nor was it even to himself a matter of 
 surprise, for he certainly had heard and said, enough 
 about the young lady to feel that the very air, if a tell 
 tale, might offer her a sufficient reason for allowing 
 him to feel that an introduction to her was worthy of a 
 blush. 
 
 The hoodwinked child of Kronas was ever ready, as 
 he always has been, to pursue his usual style of 
 random shooting whenever a young lady and a young 
 gentleman meet and the fountain of admiration 
 becomes stirred. 
 
 Although young Parsons had become sufficiently 
 expert in dodging, so far, the arrows of the wiley little 
 heart-hunter, he nevertheless, in his first encounter 
 with Miss Lawson, showed that he w T as not proof 
 against his attacks. He had not been dipped in the
 
 96 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 Styx, and hence unlike the warlike Achilles, was 
 vulnerable in heart as well as heel. 
 
 The admirable qualities which the young lady pos 
 sessed qualities of both head and heart, and which 
 had not been over-drawn by his uncle, challenged the 
 admiration of his nephew and ran that admiration 
 almost to an extreme. These qualities had shown 
 themselves to be deeplj rooted in the very nature 
 of the young lady as she discussed with Parsons some 
 of the subtle questions of ethics. 
 
 The young man was a voluntary captive. Had the 
 young lady chosen on this, their first meeting, to have 
 forged the fetters with which to bind him a willing 
 slave, he would have submitted. But Parsons was too 
 astute to admit, in words, the condition he was in. 
 What she might have discovered in the alternate 
 flushes of his face as they came and went, she alone 
 could tell. What she might have read in the speak 
 ing brilliancy of his dark eyes may have been a 
 revelation to her, of how his quiet, but expressive 
 words were belying the tumultuous emotions of his 
 soul. 
 
 Had it been prophesie 1 that the philosophic, self- 
 governed young teacher would, so soon, be metamor 
 phosed into a half demented worshiper at the feet of a 
 female beauty, his friends would have scouted at the 
 idea of such a prophecy being fulfilled. But, skeptical 
 as his friends might have been as to his human 
 weakness, it was at last found that even the young 
 stoic had undervalued his own strength. 
 
 Under the circumstances, John wanted to be honest 
 with himself. With candor and frankness he began a 
 s elf-examination just as soon as his first meeting with
 
 WHAT XEXT? 97 
 
 Miss Lawson was. ended and she had returned to her 
 home. Having bared the wound which he had received 
 and subjected the same to his own personal inspection, 
 he became perfectly satisfied that no curative balm 
 could be applied except at the hands of Miss Lawson. 
 He did not intimate to her that she had placed him in 
 an unenvious position, for the reason that she had 
 some suspicion of collusion with the little nude god. 
 If this were so, she became particeps criminis in his 
 undoing, and therefore owed it to herself as well as to 
 him that she would repair the injury he had sustained. 
 When she became advised of the mischief she had 
 worked, the absorbing question with the wounded was, 
 will she administer an antidote? Will she lend the 
 wounded her immediate attention ? 
 
 This being John s first onset by symptoms, which 
 he considered to be somewhat alarming, he was quite 
 ready to aver that he had been attacked by all kinds 
 of juvenile maladies, such as whooping-cough, measles, 
 dyphtheria and scarlet fever, and that he had been 
 more than a match for them all, but to be shot from 
 ambush by such an arrow, and from such a source, 
 he was afraid would defy any treatment that was not 
 heroic. 
 
 How very strange that such a man, under such circum 
 stances, should have been so puerile as to thus 
 soliloquize. How very strange that such a man, under 
 any conditions, should so far give way to emotions 
 of uncontrolled admiration, as to be no longer himself! 
 Why indeed should a man have become a coward because 
 a set of complacent smiles were playing hide-and-seek 
 in his presence, amid the dimples of a roseate pair 
 of cheeks ? 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 7.
 
 98 W11AT NEXT? 
 
 Why should a man have been compelled to crouch, 
 through fear, of the lurking brightness of a pair of dark 
 eyes, turned upon his ? Luna s attendant star, 
 seeking refuge beneath a pendant cloud, is just as free 
 from doing harm, as is the smile which half way loses 
 itself among the fringing curls that curtain the fore 
 head of a beautiful girl. The star is a part of the 
 heavenly adornment the smile is a part of earth s 
 unforfeited Edenized glory. 
 
 Although Parsons felt himself to be completely 
 infatuated with the charms of Miss Lawson, he was 
 absolutely silent in regard to the impressions she had 
 made upon him. With a considerable degree of 
 composure he asked her if it would be agreeable to her 
 to have him call upon her, at her home the next day. 
 To this she readily assented, and accordingly, the follow 
 ing afternoon he rode over to the home of Mrs. Lawson. 
 Before starting, however, John made a clean-cut 
 statement to the uncle of the impressions the young lady 
 had made upon him, and gave him to understand, that 
 he did not propose to allow the thing to stop with a 
 bare expression of his admiration that either more 
 good or more harm must be the result to him of his 
 meeting with Miss Lawson. 
 
 The uncle laughed, and while commending him for 
 his determination, intimated his surprise that such 
 results should attend so short an interview. While 
 still jeering the nephew over the indorsement he had 
 given to his exemplified taste, the nephew mounted his 
 horse, and was off for the Lawson homestead. Upon 
 his arrival, Miss Lawson met him with some degree of 
 complacency, but, as John thought, with scarcely as 
 much manifested pleasure as she ought to have
 
 WHAT NEXT? 99 
 
 exhibited, if not for his own sake, at least for the sake 
 of his uncle and aunt, for whom she professed such 
 ardent attachment. This introduction to the young 
 lady, in the midst of her home environment, had a 
 tendency to cool the ardor of the young man, and 
 cause him to put on his studying cap. However, with 
 the adage dancing through his mind, that "faint heart 
 never won fair lady," he choked down his little 
 discomfiture and resolved to make his visit, if possi 
 ble, two-fold in results: namely, one of pleasure coupled 
 with business. 
 
 Calling attention to the meeting of the day before, 
 he chose, somewhat tenderly, to allude to the effect of 
 meeting with her, and the impressions she had made 
 upon his mind and heart. He was quite candid in 
 saying to her, that, for the first time in his life, he had 
 to acknowledge that he had been brought under the 
 power and dominion of love s potent influence that 
 she had been the first to wield the wand over him, 
 which wounds, but often wounds but to cure. 
 
 With an expression of surprise, but at the same time 
 with utmost composure, she stated to the young 
 gallant, that if she had, in any way, been connected 
 with the wounding to which he alluded, it had certainly 
 been an innocent and unintentional act upon her part. 
 "Please pardon me, Mr. Parsons, and allow me to say, 
 that, while I am not even a novitiate in the arts of 
 ^sculapius I might possibly administer a palliative 
 for yoijr trouble, if I knew just what to give, how much 
 to give, and in what proportions to dish out my 
 remedy." 
 
 But for the fact that John thought he discovered a 
 show of facetiousness in the foregoing speech of Miss
 
 100 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 Mary, he might have brought the afternoon colloquy to 
 a sudden termination, and have almost as suddenly 
 made his exit. There was no evidence of sarcasm 
 however in what she said ; and, while studying to have 
 the pose of candor, there was a twinkle that plaj ed 
 about her bright eyes which at once revealed the spirit 
 of mirthfulness that lay back of her proposition to 
 furnish her visitor help if she knew how. 
 
 Before the young lady had scarcely time to consider 
 the weight and importance of John Parsons well present 
 ed claims, she found she had been absolutely courted, 
 and that the claimant for her heart and hand was 
 uneasily awaiting her reply. 
 
 After waiting for some moments in silence and 
 anxious solicitude for the answer which he supposed the 
 young lad} was framing, she at last informed him, 
 with some trepidation, that she hardly felt ready, upon 
 so short an acquaintance, to give him even an evasive 
 answer. She told him that she had been most 
 favorably impressed both with his personal appearance 
 and the reputation for integrity, honor and uprightness 
 which he had brought with him, as per the indorsement 
 of his uncle, in whose judgement she had an almost 
 unlimited confidence, but in making a decision where so 
 much might be involved, she preferred to postpone 
 rendering any definite answer to his question until she 
 had held a consultation with some one, who, from a 
 personal interest in her welfare, would deal with his 
 question in honest candor. 
 
 With this statement, Parsons wanted to know whether 
 she had any one mentally selected, in whose good sense 
 and absolutely sound judgment she could implicitly rely, 
 and if she held in her mind any such a counselor, if 
 she would object to giving him the name.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 101 
 
 To this query Miss Lawson made ready response. 
 She stated that in a matter so all-important as a 
 
 
 
 matrimonial alliance, she was impressed with the idea 
 that none were so much interested in the step proposed 
 to be taken, (the principal excepted) ,*m entering into 
 the marriage relation, as immediate family relatives, 
 and, this being true, she would seek a confidant and 
 counselor among such relatives. 
 
 One other question Parsons asked the privilege of 
 submitting, which was, as to who the party was, in 
 her o\vn family, before whom she proposed to leave the 
 adjustment of his pleading. 
 
 To this question the young lady made answer, 
 stating that she had a widowed sister, considerably 
 older than herself, and who, from the superior amount 
 of her experience, would be a good advisor, and that, 
 therefore, she would lay the matter before her first. 
 
 The decision thus expressed was very far from meet 
 ing the approbation of him who had, with all the 
 earnestness of an ardent nature, pleaded his case, and an 
 immediate resolve was made by him to appeal his case 
 to a tribunal in which her heart was to sit in judgment, 
 and the nobler emotions and sentiments of her pure- 
 soul to render a better verdict. It was a case of love s 
 labor lost. Parsons plead his cause with all the earnest 
 ness of a forensic hero, but neither the philosophic 
 presentation of facts nor the poetic pictures of a 
 brightening future could divert Miss Lawson from her 
 original purpose of laying the pending proposition 
 before the widow Gaines. 
 
 The defeat which Parsons sustained was severe, 
 even the very skies seemed to draw over themselves a 
 foreboding shadow, and a prophecj" for the future was 
 full of doubt and uncertainty.
 
 102 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 After the complete and final rendering of the young 
 . lady s edict, without any outward show of having 
 received a new wound, Parsons deliberately, com 
 posedly, and with true gentlemanly politeness, bowed 
 himself out of the presence of Miss Lawson, after a 
 promise to call again within a few days. 
 
 Actively mounting his horse, and, being a good and 
 graceful equestrian, he was soon out of the sight of a pair 
 of black eyes that were watching his retreating from 
 though a window of the room he had just vacated. 
 Somehow, she felt lonesome, and mentally asked, 
 What Next? While Parsons pushed forward and won- 
 ered What Next?
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "Ye cruel powers! 
 
 Take me, as you have made me miserable ; 
 Ye cannot make me guilty ! twas my fate; 
 And 3 ou made that, not 1." 
 
 FHE history of John Parsons first love affair was 
 very similar to that of every other young man 
 who has been caught in the toils of female 
 beauty. Enthusiastic and sentimental, in 
 making his first offering upon a shrine which he had 
 erected to his girl idol, he became but a copyist, for 
 thousands, in every land, and through the ages r had 
 been doing the same thing. 
 
 Ordinarily the young man kept himself subject to* 
 the most rigid discipline. It was hard, therefore, under 
 any kind of circumstances, to throw him off his guard. 
 But, while this was true, it has been found already 
 to be equally true, that his self-imposed shield of 
 cautious circumspection did not protect him from the 
 insidious wiles which danced and sported in the eyes 
 of beauty. He had met a sprite. She had made an 
 impressive appeal to his taste, and before that appeal 
 he grew sick love sick, and at once betrayed the 
 weakness of his sex. In his dilemma he might have 
 said, in the language of Burns : 
 
 It warms me. it charms me, 
 To mention but her name; 
 It heats me, it beats me. 
 And sets me a on flame. 
 
 The stubborn will of the young man had been 
 broken, and, as never before, he felt himself the willing 
 subject of a tyrannizing power. He felt that he was in 
 a strait which rendered his condition both desperate 
 and dangerous. Procrastination he regarded as the
 
 104 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 poet s thief, and was in dread lest this thief should 
 steal the opportunity of having his heart s unbounded 
 desire gratified. Such was the character of the 
 thoughts that ran through the mind of the visitor, but 
 which, with the exercise of a prudential reticence he 
 kept closeted in the recesses of his own soul. Indeed 
 it would not have been at all like John Parsons very 
 self, to have seen him pursue any other course. Even 
 upon his meeting Miss Lawson for the first time, after 
 her decision to leave the result of his unfortunate 
 pleadings to the adjustment of the widowed sister, 
 there was no betrayal of boyish weakness, by act, word 
 or look. In the ordeal through which he was being 
 passed, he was schooling himself, with stoic fortitude, 
 for an uncomplaining acceptance of the final result of 
 his sueing for the hand of the young lady. He may 
 have winced and squirmed under the potency of a love- 
 stroke, as many a poor boy had done before him, and 
 many have done since, but, if so. no one but John 
 Parsons knew how much, for, amid all that was tran 
 spiring, there was an out-cropping of that calm 
 dispassionate resolve that had been one of his 
 prominent characteristics. 
 
 Between the time of John s first and second visits to 
 the home of Mrs. Lawson. her daughter had made a 
 full statement of the proposal to Mrs. Gaines which she 
 had received at the hands of young Mr. Parsons, 
 together with all the attending circumstances the 
 introduction, the recommendations, and their source ; 
 the visit which she had received, and the impressions 
 which the young stranger had made upon her mind. 
 In addition to all this, she informed the sister just what 
 had taken place between herself and the nephew of
 
 WHAT NEXT? 105 
 
 her especial friends ; and, not being disposed to act 
 hastily, or without consulting some one of experience, 
 she had brought the matter before her sister for her 
 counsel. 
 
 It will be remembered that the lady from whom 
 the advice was sought, had some very strange 
 ideas about life, its purposes, its responsibilities and 
 its duties. It will be remembered as well, that this 
 same lady, in her marital enterprise, had been especially 
 unfortunate. The recollection of these facts may 
 serve, in a measure, to explain the character of the 
 advice which Mrs. Gaines gave to her sister, and during 
 the rendering of whose opinion, the following colloquy 
 took place : 
 
 "You are already aware, I presume, my dear sister," 
 said Mrs. Gaines, that I am disposed to look with 
 distrust upon every love affair in its incipient stage." 
 
 "And why so ?" said Mary. 
 
 "Simply because among the many cases that have 
 come within the purview of my observation a major 
 ity of the marriages in our country are unfortunate." 
 
 "But because this is the case, as observed by you, it 
 does not follow that all observers would bear the same 
 testimony. Besides, did it ever occur to you," said 
 Mary, "that you have had your attention drawn to the 
 unfortunate rather than to the fortunate marriages?" 
 
 "Possibly your suggestion is true, but I think the 
 probabilities are in my favor," replied Mrs. Gaines. 
 
 "Well, sister," said the younger lady, "I think I 
 have heard you express some rather strange views upon 
 the subject of practical coquetry, have I not?" 
 
 "You have heard me express myself upon that 
 subject," said the elder, "but I do not know that my 
 opinions are peculiarly rny own."
 
 106 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 "Well, my reason for wishing to draw 3*011 out, in 
 regard to this practice, is found in the fact that I 
 thought it would have been an easy task to have 
 deceived Mr. Parsons by playing for him a game of 
 coquetry. Besides," said Mary, "I think the ardent 
 nature of the young man has never been brought in 
 contact with much of the deception of the world, and 
 that, being credulous, he could have been easily 
 deceived by a sham show of admiration. The young 
 man, however, seemed so perfectly honest and unsus 
 pecting, that I thought it would be a crueltj" to deal 
 with him dishonestly." 
 
 "Do not call putting a young man in leading strings 
 dishonesty, Mary. Do not call the fashionable practice 
 of carrying on a flirtation dishonesty. It is a game at 
 which two adepts may play, and neither be cheated, 
 and a game which the novice may profit by learning. 
 The game is a pleasant but sometimes a dangerous 
 pastime. In fact, I think it is of doubtful propriety 
 for young people to venture upon such a play until 
 they have become, to some extent at least, adepts in 
 physiognomy, and well versed in deciphering the causes 
 for human action." 
 
 "Then you think, sister," said Mary, "That I did 
 right in playing an honest part towards Mr. Parsons, 
 and that I was also justifiable in insisting upon seek 
 ing your advice ?" 
 
 "I do. You may think you comprehend the 
 fullness of the innate and uncorrupted honesty of Mr. 
 Parsons, but Mary, in this you mpy be deceived. If 
 you are really pleased with the nephew of your old 
 friends, I hope I shall find your estimate of his mental 
 and moral worth fully sustained by a mature acquaint-
 
 WHAT NEXT? 107 
 
 ance. Of one thing, however, you may rest assured. 
 It is this. Young men when in conversation with 
 young ladies, especially in regard to heart trouble do 
 not mean one half of what they say, and, in a majority 
 of instances, are nothing but frauds." 
 
 "Sister, 3*011 are certainl3 r rather severe in 3*our 
 criticism of the men. Your experience, however, would 
 make you a far better judge of how much credence is to 
 be put in what they say than I am. and, for that reason, I 
 am at your feet as a seeker for further wisdom, in order 
 that I may know better what ni3* duties are in regard 
 to the proposal of Mr. Parsons. 
 
 Moral circumspection. Mar3*, will repel an3 r undue 
 amount of proffered familiarity, while prudishness will 
 be a bar to the approach of the good and true. A 
 3*oung lad\* should not only be circumspect in the 
 compam* of those with whom she is but slightly 
 acquainted, but even more so in the compaii}* of the 
 well-known, because the fruit of familiarity is contempt, 
 and contempt is the vinegar of human life." 
 
 "I am not disposed to question the correctness of 
 what you say upon these points. But sister," said 
 Mar\*, "I am not here to listen to a dissertation upon 
 deportment, homiletics, or a speech, upon correct con 
 duct. What I want is 3*our advice as to the course I 
 must pursue in regard to the case between Mr. Parsons 
 and myself. I can candidly say, that I am quite 
 favorabty impressed with the general appearance of 
 the }*oung man. He is certainty handsome, and I think 
 him quite intelligent as well." 
 
 "What 3*ou want to draw from me, Mar3 T , is, I 
 suppose, ni3* opinion in regard to the ver}- hasty 
 proposal he has submitted, as well, perhaps, as my
 
 108 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 opinion of the young man generally. If this be your 
 desire, I can assure you that I think his avowal of so 
 earnest an attachment upon so very limited acquaint 
 ance, was certainly premature. The pressing of his 
 claims-, under such circumstances, I interpret as an 
 evidence of impulsive weakness, and is too much like the 
 case of Melnotte under the guise of the Prince of Como. 
 Ardency, my dear Mary, in incipient love affairs, must 
 not be mistaken for honesty. Under such an existing 
 state of affairs as you present, I think any true and 
 worth}- young girl could well afford to resist such 
 impulsiveness as your newly discovered Sir Knight has 
 manifested. In his sudden onslaught, hold him at 
 bay, and at least show him you have a heart that is not 
 only worth working for, but worth waiting for as well. 
 No young lady should think of such a thing as rushing 
 into the confidence of a young man upon the immature 
 acquaintance of a first, second or third meeting. She, 
 of course, should be polite, and exhibit all the graces 
 at her command. In queenh r dignity, she should^ 
 stand aloof from any show of proffered familiarity. If 
 you have shown that you have received a heart wound 
 upon your second meeting, my decision would be that you 
 have been guilty of an indiscretion. Mark what I say. 
 You may have received such a wound, but to show the 
 wound to him who did the wounding, would be an egregi 
 ous mistake. Let your wooer find out that you are not 
 so easily won, and upon protestations from so new an 
 acqaintance, and the chances are that his new-born 
 love will run down in his heart as rapidly as does the 
 mercury in the thermometer when struck by a Texas 
 norther." 
 
 "You have, in part, complied with my request," 
 said the younger sister. "My interpretation of what
 
 WHAT NEXT? 109 
 
 you have spread before me may be incorrect, and that 
 I may fully satisfy myself as to the construction I have 
 placed upon your expressed opinions, I would like to 
 have you give me the impressions that were made 
 upon your mind by the young man, who comes to us 
 from another part of the State. I think you told me 
 you had seen him in the city, but had no introduction 
 to him." 
 
 "Well, Mary, justice to myself, as well as to you, 
 requires that I should be strictly honest in my answer 
 to this question. I knew that report said this young 
 cavalier had been imported into our country for the 
 especial purpose of laying seige to the heart, and, 
 through that, to the hand of my younger sister. I 
 became at once interested in the matter, and really put 
 myself to some inconvenience, that I might catch a 
 glimpse of this new visitor. I preferred to see the 
 gentleman at a distance, and my impressions would 
 determine the question of my seeking to know more 
 than I could discern from an outward exhibit. 
 
 "Pardon me, Mary. Do not doubt my honesty. 
 Impugn not my motives. I was not pleased with your 
 suitor. Not being close enough to him as he stood 
 with his uncle in the store of Mr. Cushman to discover 
 the exact color of his eyes, I nevertheless made a 
 somewhat rapid survey of his general contour, and, 
 therefrom, drew my own conclusions." 
 
 "Well, your admission that you were not pleased, 
 prepares me for what must follow, provided your 
 criticism is made more elaborate. But, sister, do not 
 cut short your criticism for fear of giving me offense. I 
 have asked for an opinion, and my asking shall be 
 your fortress against the receiving of one unkind look. 
 Proceed, I am ready to hear all."
 
 110 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 "As he, whom you claim to be an admirer, stood 
 only a few feet from me, and wholly oblivious to the 
 scrutinizing glances I was momentarily casting in his 
 direction, I saw, as I think, almost enough to have 
 drawn his picture, had I been but an amateur artist." 
 
 "Go on, sister." said Mary, "you may not be a 
 practical limner, but you can, at least, give me a 
 specimen of your word painting." 
 
 "To begin," said Mrs. Gaines, "I thought the young 
 man was handsome in form and had an intelligent 
 face." 
 
 "Well, well ; score two for my young and doubly 
 complimented young friend," said Mary. 
 
 "Hold your eclat in subjection, Maiy, till I am 
 through with my picture. You have asked me to 
 draw it for you, and I do not intend you shall go into 
 ecstasies over what may possibly eventuate in being 
 the only things worthy of commendation in the subject 
 of examination. But, to proceed. As Mr. Parsons 
 stood, bracing himself against the counter, his face 
 immobile and quiesent, I really thought his pose would 
 have been a good one, from before which to draw the 
 curtain of a camera. His dress was neat and well 
 fitted, but seemed just a little off style. It was not 
 strictly bon-ton, and was an advertisement of the back 
 woods rather than the up-to-date fashionable country. 
 I would do him justice. While therefore what I have 
 said is true, there was nothing especially ungainly in 
 his appearance, nor any marks of slouch about him. 
 With equal propriety it could have been said, that 
 there was nothing in his general appearance that 
 would have attracted the attention of a stranger. As 
 you have probably noticed, he wears no jewelry except
 
 WHAT NEXT? Ill 
 
 an antiquated specimen of breastpin, which, if an 
 heir-loom, ought to have been discarded from the 
 shirt front of his grand-father and been placed among 
 the curios of the distant past. The shoes he wore were 
 not the kind that our fashionable young men buy, and 
 he is either ahead of the fashion or behind it. This -is 
 a score against him, or one against the country from 
 which he hails." 
 
 "And are these all the objections you have to file 
 against the handsome visitor of my friends." said 
 Mary. 
 
 Verily, by no means, sister. This young man, as 
 I am led to believe, is out on a still hunt for a wife. 
 You have been singled out as the one he is to capture. 
 What has he to recommend him in his suit? He is 
 nothing but the teacher of a common country school 
 a position which has been filled in our country, during 
 all the years I have known, by none but Yankee 
 pedagogues a position that promises no promotion, 
 no advancement and but meager pay." 
 
 "But because he is a teacher now, does it follow, 
 per necessity, that he cannot enter a field more 
 lucrative ? Does it follow that, like Ixion, he is 
 fastened to an ever revolving wheel, from which there 
 is no escape?" 
 
 "No, my dear Mary, I think escape from such a 
 profession, such a life, is possible, but I think the 
 cage had better be swept and left, rather than that 
 you should form a co-partnership with the young man, 
 to help him do the sweeping and leaving." 
 
 "One other question I would like to ask," said 
 Mary, "and, with asking and answering of that query,
 
 112 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 I think we can move an adjournment and I can study, 
 in secret and silence, the various phases of the suhject 
 we have been considering." 
 
 "My question is this. Could I not, with a degree of 
 mental reservation, consent to give an affirmative 
 answer to his question, with the distinct understand 
 ing that there is no definiteness of time to be yet 
 considered?" 
 
 "Most assuredly you could, sister. And if the con 
 dition of your own estimation of the young pedagogue 
 is such as that you cannot get your consent, as yet, 
 to discard any and all matrimonial propositions coming 
 from him, your suggestion is both prudent and wise. 
 It is prudent because you would then have ample time 
 to make your look before you leap. It would be wise 
 because such a course might save you from incalculable 
 sorrow." 
 
 "I thank you very kindly for this interview," said 
 Mary. "It has furnished me food for thought, and I 
 hope to profit thereby. So good-bye." 
 
 Miss Mary Lawson had naturally a confiding and 
 unsuspecting disposition. In one respect, however, she 
 had been unfortunate. She had grown up under the 
 dominating influence of an older sister. The power of 
 thinking and acting for herself became consequently 
 enervated and dwarfed. She had so long been 
 accustomed to think as another directed, that, even in 
 matters of the greatest moment to herself, she was 
 cowardly, undecided. Poor girl ! Had she been left 
 to the dictates of her own unsullied conscience, she 
 would doubtless have been a grander woman, and 
 have led a happier life.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 113 
 
 When young Parsons called upon Miss Lawson a 
 few days after the colloquj 7 had transpired between her 
 and Mrs. Gaines, he found the young lady so greatly 
 changed in her demeanor towards him as to excite his 
 curiosity and give him considerable uneasiness. Hosv 
 to account for the change, he, of course, knew not, 
 and became almost importunate in his questioning 
 with regard to what untoward event had worked to his 
 detriment. To all questions with regard to what had 
 caused such a change "to come over the spirit of her 
 dreams," she was evasive or reticent. Having no light 
 shed upon the cause of the noticable transformation, 
 and seeming to be cut off from his only source of 
 information in regard thereto, he stopped his inquiries. 
 That the change was due to ill health he knew could 
 not be true, for the young lady on making her appear 
 ance, in health, general physical appearance, style of 
 attire, and exquisite paraphernalia, had never made a 
 better display. 
 
 Under ordinary circumstances the richness and 
 beauty of Miss Lawson s costume would have 
 attracted his special attention and elicited a handsome 
 compliment. But, in this instance, his eyes were 
 closed to the observation of external ornamentation, 
 and his speech dumb to the uttering of one syllabic 
 compliment. 
 
 In more of a cool, calculating, philosophic style 
 than persuasive, Parsons approached the subject which 
 occupied the largest share of his attention during their 
 last meeting, and which was deferred at her instance, 
 until she could lay the question to be decided before 
 an advisory council, consisting of but one counselor. 
 Supposing the judgment of Mrs. Gaines to have been 
 
 WHAT NKXT? X.
 
 114 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 rendered, Parsons did not, in any way, seek to know 
 what her decision, as given to her sister was. He 
 ignored this part of Miss Lawson s request, and 
 approached her, as though he knew nothing of the 
 existence of a Mrs. Gaines. He informed Miss Mary that 
 he had laid his case before her with simple candor that 
 without any ostentatious display or the waving of 
 pretentious colors without any deceptions cant or the 
 out-spreading of fraudulent hypocrisy, he had been 
 simply honest. He told her that if there was one question 
 concerning himself, his hopes, or his prospects which 
 she desired to know, to turn investigation s lamp in 
 upon him and the truths of an honest soul would fly 
 to meet her questioning. He told her that the secret 
 springs of his own heart had been touched by her attrac 
 tions, and the door had flown wide open, and she bid 
 to come in, and be for life, its one and sole occupant. 
 The door, he told her, still stood ajar that heart still 
 craves an occupant. "Will you," said he, "allow that 
 door to be closed and locked with sorrow s key?" 
 
 Miss Lawson scarcely deigned to make reply to 
 anything Parsons said. She seemed to sit in a semi- 
 dazed condition, and while her clear bright eyes 
 appeared to half float in a sea of tears, under the 
 eloquent and passionate appeal of the young teacher, 
 her tongue could be coaxed to make no reply. 
 
 During this interview there was a tension so strong 
 engendered by the very singular turn that things had 
 taken, that he consequently made his visit unusually 
 short. Before leaving, however, he asked Miss Lawson 
 if she would be willing to correspond with him ; and, 
 receiving an affirmative answer, he took her hand 
 gently in his; and, while holding it, informed her that
 
 WHAT NEXT? 115 
 
 he would leave for home the next day, and asked her 
 to please make the hand he was holding, write him 
 something comforting, the very first time it essayed to 
 write at all. He pressed the hand which lay still in 
 his in silence bowed ; and was gone. 
 
 On his way back to his uncle s, John was oppressed 
 by a sense of weariness, languor, or love-lornness. The 
 humid summer atmosphere seemed to be especially 
 oppressive. The sun appeared to glow with an 
 unwonted amount of heat, and even his high-mettled 
 horse indicated his appreciation of the heat by the 
 perspiration which flecked his body, even before half 
 the distance had been traveled. 
 
 When John reached his uncle s, to keep his counte 
 nance from turning tell-tale, and having outlined in it 
 the marks of mental suffering through which he had 
 so recently passed, was more than he could do. 
 Observing the shadow that seemed to have gathered 
 about the nephew, and which was so foreign from 
 anything that had hitherto been observed, the uncle at 
 once sought to discover the cause of his trouble. Upon 
 questioning him, John was found to be perfectly trans 
 parent in regard to what his uncle wanted to know. 
 With perfect freedom, as well as with undisguised 
 frankness he laid before his uncle a full and complete 
 recital of everything which had taken place between 
 Miss Lawson and himself. Every meeting, and every 
 thing which had been said in every meeting between 
 them, as far as he could remember what had taken 
 place was laid bare before his uncle. On no part of 
 what had occurred, did he dwell, with more seeming 
 concern, than the adventure through which he had just 
 passed. He seemed not only to desire that his uncle
 
 116 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 should be a confidant, but that his aunt should be 
 taken as fully into his confidence as his uncle. 
 
 After John s categorical, and voluntary examination 
 had been finished, the uncle and aunt remained silent 
 some minutes, when the uncle broke the silence by 
 saying, that "the widowed half-sister of Miss Mary 
 Lawson was at the bottom of all the trouble." He 
 then informed John that some of the adverse criticisms 
 in which Mrs. Gaines had indulged concerning him, 
 with her gossipy tongue, had reached his ears, but 
 which he thought best to keep to himself. But he believed 
 the time had now come, when his nephew should be 
 fully informed as to what he might expect at the hands 
 of a disappointed and dissatisfied woman, and govern 
 himself accordingly. 
 
 "John," said the uncle, "this Mrs. Gaines married a 
 man who was fast, and fast in more ways than one. 
 He dressed extravagantly, wore costly jewelry, drove a 
 fane} team, and drank mint juleps. He married his 
 wife thinking she was an heiress, and she married him 
 thinking he had money to burn. Both were desperately 
 disappointed. Gaines, her husband, died a bankrupt 
 within two months after his marriage, and his widow 
 is living upon a small patrimony which she received 
 from her father s estate. She is a woman who can 
 make a bigger show, on a small capital, than any 
 woman in our part of the State. Poor but proud, she 
 ought to have profited by her sad experience ; but the 
 gathering of bubbles but to have them burst, seems to 
 have had no effect in toning down her haughty spirit. 
 "This is the woman, John, who has been manipulating 
 her sister, and trying to induce her to believe that 
 there is no real worth in anything or any person where
 
 WHAT NEXT? 117 
 
 in there is not found the glitter of fashion. In her 
 eyes, a fool with money and fine clothes is the acme of 
 human perfection, while the philosopher or genius who 
 can boast of a surplus of neither, is unworthy of the 
 smallest consideration. This is the woman who claims 
 that you have not enough of the get-up-and-go^ 
 quality, as the horsemen say that you are too plain 
 and prosy too much of the matter of fact about 
 you not enough poetry in your nature not 
 attractive in the eyes of the elite too little display. 
 
 "I suppose you have given me these remarks as 
 quotations from some of her criticising speeches, and I 
 think they go a long ways towards explaining some 
 things that I could not have comprehended otherwise. 
 Let me assure you uncle, if the young lady for whom 
 I have formed my first attachment, outside of my own 
 family relatives, expects me to convert myself into a 
 sycophantic, dawdling, hanger-on, in the wake of 
 money-loving leaders of society, simply to please the 
 corrupted fancy of an older sister, she is certainly very 
 much mistaken. If she expects me to put myself in the 
 line of fawning fops, among whom her sister found one 
 who brought to her nothing but poverty, the young lady 
 will be under the necessity of finding some one better 
 suited to such work than I am. No woman living can, 
 to please her, induce me to parade under false colors. 
 To do so would be self-stultification, and subject me to 
 the condemnation of my own conscience. 
 
 We parted," said John, "upon good terms, but 
 whether the terms wore uny name more holy than 
 amity, I am not prepared to assert. If quiet reserve 
 can be interpreted as an indication of heart work, I 
 think," said the young man smiling, "that the heart
 
 118 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 of Miss Mary Lawson, during the time of our to-day s 
 interview, must have been trying to solve some intri- 
 cate life problem. But, with all her abstraction, she 
 -consented to enter into a correspondence with me, and 
 I may be able to present to her eyes, something that 
 will awake her to the consideration of what she was 
 -oblivious to to-day. In addition to this agreement she 
 was even sufficiently gracious, to promise me her 
 picture, when I made her my next visit." 
 
 On the following day John prepared for starting 
 home for leave-taking of the two kind-hearted 
 relatives who had become much interested in his 
 welfare. As especial well-wishers of the young lady, 
 to whom John had been presented and recommended 
 by them, they felt to sincerely regret that he should 
 leave them enveloped, as he seemed to be, in a cloud 
 of uncertainty. The motherly attention the consid 
 erate kindness, and the manifested sympathy of his 
 aunt, had woven about his better nature a bond, that 
 was akin to that which made up the sum of maternal 
 good wishes wishes such as followed him when he 
 stepped from beneath the home roof to encounter the 
 trials and breast the storms of life alone. 
 
 With tender and heart-felt gratitude, he kissed his 
 aunt adieu as she stood on the door-step, and then 
 followed the lead of his uncle to the stile where black 
 Bob stood, bridle in hand, ready to assist the gallant 
 visitor to mount his somewhat restless steed. 
 
 As the uncle still held the hand of the nephew, 
 which he had grasped for a parting farewell, he could 
 not refrain from expressing his regret at the condition 
 his love affairs had assumed, nor from telling him that 
 he hoped when he next heard from him he would learn
 
 WHAT NEXT? 119 
 
 that the clouds had cleared away, and that the future 
 might seem to look brighter with promise of better days. 
 He encouraged his young kinsman to be brave even in the 
 midst of disappointment, to be deliberate in the face of 
 trial, and never surrender noble resolves because of one 
 failure. That he should be compelled to wear away a 
 heart less buoyant, and a mind more burdened by 
 anxiety than he brought with him when he came, was 
 to be deplored ; but the purposes of life were often 
 thwarted, that something better might be the 
 result. Be brave, dear boy, "said the uncle. ""Farewell" 
 said each in chorus. 
 
 Upon reaching home, John did not allow very much 
 time to get behind him until he had indited a rather 
 long, plain and expressive letter to Miss Mar} 7 Lawson. 
 It was free from the gush and over-wrought sentimen- 
 .tality that so often characterises the correspondence of 
 a young man who has been infatuated with the charms 
 of a woman for the first time. Such missives are often 
 of such a character as to lead the over-credulous 
 receiver to believe, that, since Adam left Eden, no 
 such case of love-lorn despondency had ever been 
 brought to the attention of mortal man. 
 
 To such a category of letter writers, John Parsons 
 did not belong. In writing to Miss Lawson therefore, 
 he was dispassionate in everj^ thing which he penned. 
 He recapitulated what had passed between them, and, 
 having gone over the whole of the reasons which he 
 had previously offered, why she should have answered 
 a previously propounded and important question, he 
 further supplemented these reasons by offering others. 
 For his sake, as well as for the quietude which a direct 
 answer would bring to her mind, he insisted that an 
 unequivocal answer should be given him in her reply.
 
 120 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 After he had reached home Miss Lawson was not at 
 all tardy in inditing and sending to Parsons a nicely writ 
 ten and well worded answer to his letter. But the phrase 
 ology of that letter was such as to give it the appearance 
 of having been traced by a cowardly hand. It bore 
 also the marks of a half concealed indifference to the 
 points made in the letter she was answering not an 
 expression in which could be discovered the smallest 
 moiety of affectionate fervor not a sentence which 
 could be interpreted as conveying the idea of any 
 special preference for the party to whom she was 
 writing. The answer which Parsons had so earnestly 
 requested should be given him was evasively post 
 poned by being conditioned upon future develop 
 ments which he knew could never possibly materialize. 
 
 This communication, although so nicely and 
 adroitly worded, was not wholly unsatisfactory to 
 Parsons, but was a new character of enigma. From 
 what he had seen of the young lady, but more partic 
 ularly from the description given of her by both his 
 uncle and his aunt, he suspected that a third party 
 was figuring clandestinely in the case wherein he 
 thought himself, and the young lady addressed, were 
 the only participants. 
 
 In his second letter he did not, of course, allude to 
 any suspicion that had taken possession of his mind. 
 In answering her first, strange, and unsympathetic 
 communication, he allowed a sufficiency of time to 
 elapse to create some suspicion in her mind that her 
 letter proving unsatisfactor} T to Mr. Parsons, he had 
 concluded that their correspondence need not be 
 carried any further. In fact, postponement was con 
 tinued until the young lady, becoming solicitous
 
 WHAT NEXT? 121 
 
 about the matter, had gone to John s uncle, and, by 
 inquiry, had sought to learn why her letter had not 
 been answered. This led to the reception of a letter 
 from his uncle, in which was revealed some 
 important facts connected with the nephew s recent 
 visit. To this letter, as well as to the long postponed 
 answer to Miss Lawson s communication, John speedily 
 forwarded answers. 
 
 If the explanations and re-explanations that followed 
 the writing of John s second letter were inserted here, 
 except to a few individuals who may have had a some 
 what similar experience, the history ,would;be uninterest 
 ing. Suffice it to say therefore that just a little show of 
 indifference in this case worked a reform in the style 
 of Miss Lawson s correspondence with Parsons that 
 set even-thing to moving harmonious^ between him 
 and his lady correspondent. 
 
 Only a short time after John s return from the visit 
 herein recorded, Mr. Ellis Watson, a trustee of a school 
 in a different neighborhood, approached Parsons and 
 asked him if he considered himself engaged to teach 
 for the approaching school year. The young teacher 
 answered him by saying that while there was no 
 definite or special arrangement as to his continuing where 
 he had been teaching, he still thought there was a 
 tacit understanding between him and his old patrons 
 that he would continue in their employ. Mr. Watson 
 then inquired if, with a considerable increase in his 
 salary, he would entertain a proposition to teach a 
 school in his locality. 
 
 Being especially interested in the cause of education 
 generally, John had previously made inquiry into the 
 history of every school in the surrounding country, and
 
 122 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 had, to a large extent, made himself acquainted with 
 the characters of the citizenship and the special en 
 vironments in each of these localities. 
 
 It so happened that in his investigations along this 
 line, the school of which Mr. Watson was a trustee and 
 patron, had not been very favorably reported. Its 
 pupils were considered unruh its patrons dictatorial 
 and hard to please. 
 
 With this much of the generally reported reputation 
 which this particular school had, he replied to Mr. 
 Watson, that with the outlook then before him, he did 
 not think he could be induced to consider a prop 
 osition from them. He told Mr. Watson that an 
 increase in salary was, to him, an important consider 
 ation, but that he did not work for money only. 
 
 Mr. Watson seemed somewhat disappointed with 
 John s answer, and, not being satisfied with what 
 appeared to him to be an unsettled conclusion, started 
 into catechise the young teacher. 
 
 "Have you any objection, Mr. Parsons, to changing 
 your location as teacher?" 
 
 There are some objections that I might urge against 
 a change of location, Mr. Watson, but 1113* reasons for 
 not desiring to make a change are not sufficiently 
 cogent to bind me to my present locality at any great 
 pecuniary sacrifice. I am greatly attached to the people 
 for whom I have been working. I think they are 
 satisfied with my efforts to further the education of 
 their children. Besides this, I should regret to sever 
 the ties of abiding sympatl\y and friendship which 
 exist between me and the pupils I have been teach- 
 ing."
 
 WHAT NEXT? 123 
 
 "But could you not build friendships just as sacred 
 and ties just as binding in another locality ?" 
 
 "Perhaps I might, Mr. Watson, but I would 
 certainly like to know that there were no facts that 
 seemed to antagonize the attainment of such results." 
 
 "Do you think there would be any obstacles 
 in the way of } our establishing yourself in the good 
 opinion and friendship of our people ? Do you think 
 it would be difficult to ingratiate yourself into the 
 effection and good will of our children and our 
 people?" 
 
 "These are rather delicate questions, Mr. Watson. 
 Success would, of course, largely depend in these 
 matters, upon the kind of people and the kind of 
 pupils with which I might have to deal. Experiment 
 only could answer your question." 
 
 "Well, if you have objections to our neighborhood, 
 our people, or our pupils, if you will name the objec 
 tions I may be able to disabuse your mind, and set 
 ourselves right in your opinion." 
 
 "The objections to which you allude, Mr. Watson, 
 have already been filed by outsiders, and I hardly 
 think I, a stranger, would be expected to know, 
 from personal knowledge, anything in regard to your 
 citizenship or their peculiarities. I can say to you, 
 however, while the reputation of your people as friends 
 and neighbors is good, the reputation which the 
 patrons of your school have is that they are fussy and 
 hard to please, and that your pupils are unruly and 
 hard to control." 
 
 "The allegations of which you speak, I think are 
 unjust. The unfavorable repute, under which you say
 
 124 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 we are resting, has evidently been manufactured by 
 some designing and disappointed teacher." 
 
 The parties to this colloquy seemed to be coming 
 no closer together as to the understanding of Mr. 
 Watson s proposition. Parsons therefore brought the 
 conversation to a close, by a direct refusal to consider 
 any offer from the delegated trustee. Under the 
 circumstances he thought he would be acting in bad 
 faith towards his old employers, to even debate the 
 question of making a change, without first consulting 
 them. He was under the impression, and so told Mr. 
 Watson, that his former emploj es would be unwilling 
 to have him leave them, for any reason, except to 
 better his condition, but that he furthermore believed 
 thej were sufficiently magnanimous to make a sacrifice 
 in his behalf. 
 
 At some future time, Mr. Watson, should you find 
 yourself in need of a teacher, and your people can 
 make it to my advantage to accept a position among 
 you, I will consider favorably a proposition. At 
 present I cannot." 
 
 With the coming of the time when John Parsons 
 should again enter upon his professional duties, he 
 walked into his old harness, and a down-east Yankee 
 was installed as teacher in the Watson district. 
 
 While the school over which Parsons presided was 
 run smoothly and profitably, there was a new and self- 
 imposed duty which he was carmng forward, and of 
 which he was almost as anxious to make a success, as 
 he was of his teaching. Not very far back in his 
 history an arrangement had been made between a very 
 handsome young lady and himself to send out monthly 
 remembrances to each other, containing tidings of
 
 WHAT NEXT? 125 
 
 good cheer. These missives passed, to and fro, for 
 nearly five months. When the end of the year was 
 coming somewhat close to hand, John decided to make 
 his uncle and aunt another visit. Of course the oppor 
 tunity of seeing Miss Lawson was by no means a 
 secondary consideration. He wrote the young lady in 
 regard to his proposed visit, and informed her as to the 
 time he would probably put in an appearance. 
 
 The young teacher was on time, as advertised, and 
 upon his arrival at the home of his relatives, he was 
 not long in signifying his desire to visit Miss Lawson. 
 
 The morning after his arrival, the weather being 
 exceedingly crisp and cold, John ordered his horse, and 
 was soon on his way to Mrs. Lawson s. Reaching there, 
 Miss Mary Lawson met him with rather more cordiality 
 than she had ever shown him, and even her mother 
 manifested an unwonted interest in his welfare. All 
 this was very grateful to Parsons, who, from the set 
 backs he had received, was half-disposed to look upon 
 everything with suspicion. 
 
 The short Christmas holiday was pleasantly spent by 
 the young visitor in a general round of pleasure and 
 delights. Almost every evening a pleasant entertain 
 ment or a storm-party was a part of the entire holiday 
 programme, and as there was considerable snow, the 
 young people made good use of it. Sleighs, drawn by 
 spirited horses, and filled with joyous, light-hearted 
 young ladies and gentlemen, made gladness as they sped 
 over the snow, ring out on the night air. Beneath the 
 silvery moon, a party of sleigh riders, keeping time to the 
 foot-falls of the horses, with merry songs and sleigh- 
 bell accompaniments, as on they all went to some 
 social gathering, was enough to satisfy any one who
 
 126 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 was not a chronic grumbler, that, in losing Eden, 
 humanity did not lose all the happiness that Eden had. 
 
 Among the various parties who became contributors 
 to the pleasant holiday enjoyments, Mrs. Lawson was 
 quite liberal. To her entertainment, although intended 
 chiefly for the young, the uncle and aunt were invited, 
 and an assurance accompanying the invitation that the 
 occasion was a merry-making in honor of their 
 nephew. 
 
 As the wheels of the family carriage whistled and 
 screeched through the snow on its way to Mrs. Lawsons, 
 Parsons w r as not as much inclined to talk as usual. 
 This was not strange. He had something important 
 to him which was being revolved in his mind. He was 
 trying to divine what strange wind had seemingly 
 turned the tide in his favor. He dared not put any 
 questions to his uncle which would indicate that doubt 
 held him in thrall, and hence the three drew the robes 
 more closely about them and rode on in silence, while 
 the driver without, cracked his whip and urged his 
 team over the snow. 
 
 Arriving at the home of the widow Lawson, the 
 Parsons part} 7 were soon in the midst of a large 
 assembly of gay, handsomely dressed, and chattering 
 young folks. A stranger in the community, young 
 Parsons received some special marks of attention 
 during the evening, and did not appear to any disad 
 vantage. While the young teacher did not, by act or 
 word, seek to leave the impression that he was present 
 for no other purpose than to see Miss Mary Lawson, 
 still, during the evening, he sought an opportunity to 
 have a short private conference with the young lady, 
 which conference was wholly unsatisfactory. Before
 
 WHAT NEXT? 127 
 
 leaving, however, he renewed the subject of the corre 
 spondence, and having learned that she did not care to 
 have their interchange of epistolary friendship discon 
 tinued, he reminded her that she was in his debt to 
 the amount of a letter, and told her to name the time 
 definitely when he might expect an answer to his last. 
 
 The exhibit of a strange formality seemed to take hold 
 of Miss Lawson when Parsons told her he would leave 
 for home the next day, and, in the midst of that over 
 shadowing formality, he bade her adieu, and he and 
 his relatives left the assembly and started home, even 
 while the festivities of the evening were at their highest. 
 It would not be at all difficult to divine why there was 
 this apparent hurrying away upon the part of young 
 Parsons. The entertainment had been prepared osten 
 sibly in his honor, and it was quite evident that one of 
 two things must have been the cause of the before- 
 time departure. Either some one of the three consti 
 tuting the Parsons party had become suddenly ill or 
 something had occurred to dampen the delights of 
 one of this trio. Nobody guessed aloud, but 
 questions were asked, but not answered. 
 
 As the party moved homeward, there was, for a 
 time, a kind of ominous silence maintained. At length 
 John Parsons broke that silence. What he said was 
 deliberately said. There was not the slightest exhi 
 bition of excitement in word or gesture upon his part. 
 He assured his uncle and aunt that some influence, 
 more potent than any at his command, was operating 
 at cross-purposes in his suit for the esteem, the con 
 fidence, and the love of Miss Lawson. What that was, 
 he claimed he had not been able to discover, but declared 
 that let it be what it might, it not only caused the
 
 128 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 path of true love to be rough, but that insuperable 
 obstructions or difficulties were found piled far too 
 frequent in his love travels. He declared, however, 
 that no man who went down into the slough of 
 despondency because he could "not get hold of the 
 springs that moved to certain kind of human action, 
 was not worthy of all he sought to own. 
 
 In the midst of the conversation which was dashed 
 with a few firey ejaculations upon the part of Mr. 
 Parsons, Sr., the carriage halted in front of the home 
 gate. Ebony Bob was hard by and opened the gate, 
 and as the carriage was slowly driven to the front, 
 John Parsons could not help feeling that either of the 
 servants, there in waiting, wore a lighter heart than he. 
 They are slaves, he reasoned, to a good master, while I 
 am a captive, in fetters bound by ene who seems to 
 sport in half delight over the galling of the chains 
 which I wear. "Shall such a state of restless anxiety be 
 prolonged, or shall I burst the shackels and dare be 
 free," he half audibly murmured, andwasonl}- momen 
 tarily quieted by the demand upon his gallantry in 
 handing his aunt from the carriage. 
 
 The cozy warm room, to which John retired, invited 
 sleep and pleasant rellections. The young man, how 
 ever, was really in no condition for either. He seated 
 himself in an easy chair, and entered into a full 
 recapitulation of everything that had occurred since 
 his first meeting with Miss Lawson. In his self- 
 examination, he found nothing for which to chide 
 himself, except that he had perhaps placed too much 
 reliance in the demeanor of the young lady whose 
 apparent superior qualities had made him her captive. 
 Long he pondered over what he had done, in the
 
 WHAT NEXT? 129 
 
 case he had under consideration, and then revolved 
 what course he would pursue in the future. That 
 the young man was in mental trouble was palpa 
 bly obvious ; but the night waned and John retired, 
 only to wrestle with troubled dreams till the break of 
 day. 
 
 With the coming of the morning the young man was 
 up and having partaken of breakfast, ordered his horse, 
 bade his relatives an affectionate farewell, and 
 started for home. As he rode through the crisp morn 
 ing air, the question, "What Next?" found its way to 
 his lips. 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 9.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Thou hast stepped in between me find my hopes, 
 And ravished from me all my soul held dear." 
 
 Howe. 
 
 "The hills to the thunder-peal replied; 
 The lightning burst on Its fearful way, 
 While the heavens were lit in its red array." 
 
 Clark. 
 
 /(TIEX young Parsons reached home, he found 
 himself the possessor of a larger share of 
 Jjl v. anxiety than he had ever before been known 
 to wear that he had imported riddles whose 
 meaning he was not able to unravel problems whose 
 depths he was not able to fathom, and intricacies 
 whose mystery he could not unwind. Study what was 
 presented in these, as he might, and he came away 
 from his study as ignorant as when he began. There 
 was no key which he possessed, or which he could get, 
 that would give aid to the solution of the problematic 
 difficulties which had produced in him so large a share 
 of anxiety 
 
 To rid himself of any and everything which might 
 militate against his success in prosecuting the work 
 of the last half of the regular school year, he regarded 
 as especially imperative. Resolving, therefore, to 
 make duty to those whom he was serving paramount 
 to every other consideration, he entered upon his 
 professional duties with new resolves, and fresh hopes 
 of making his last half year s work a better work than 
 anything he had yet accomplished. He reasoned that 
 becoming completely engrossed in his business would 
 lead to a subsidence of any perplexing questions which 
 might have been harassing his mind. Besides, he
 
 WHAT NEXT? 131 
 
 ultimately concluded that through the correspondence 
 which, as yet, was understood to have been agreed 
 upon should be continued, he could have, at least, 
 some light shed upon what was mysteriously strange. 
 
 Bolstered by these resolutions and self-satisfying 
 arguments, John Parsons showed a larger share of 
 diligence and interested perseverance than had been 
 his former wont. He pushed his work with an energy 
 that attracted the attention and called out the com 
 ments of both pupils and patrons. Alas ! none knew 
 the spur that goaded the young teacher to such extra 
 exertion. 
 
 Parsons carried no troubled expression of count 
 enance into the presence of his school. He was too 
 brave, and too much of a philosopher for that. His was a 
 secret which he did not propose to reveal, and he knew 
 young 63 es were quick in making divinations. 
 
 By and by the time came for the reception of the 
 promised letter. It came not, and the young wooer 
 grew impatient. He waited a week beyond the time 
 promised, and the post-office was visited daily, but in 
 vain. No letter came. 
 
 The usually courageous and resolute nature of the 
 young teacher was, in this instance, put to an exceed 
 ingly severe test. To have his countenance wear an 
 unperturbed expression in the midst of such an aggra 
 vating disappointment taxed the heroic in the young 
 man s nature to the fullest extent. But, trying as it 
 was, he proved himself equal to the emergency, and 
 still pushed forward in the discharge of duty with just 
 as much equanimity of temper as though the flowers 
 of hope and promise were growing in rich and contin 
 uous beauty in the path through which he traveled.
 
 132 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 Another week passed and yet no Letter came ta 
 quiet the anxiety of John Parsons. Jsot satisfied to 
 remain in a condition of wearing suspense, he wrote to 
 his cousin, Miss Bertha Butler, a favorite of the family 
 whom he had recently visited, and who was also a 
 friend of Miss Lawson. He requested her to inquire 
 of her friend Miss Lawson why an answer to a letter he 
 had so long waited for had not been sent him. He 
 had no hesitancy whatever in making the request. 
 The position she was in, being a relative of the 
 Parsons and a close friend of Miss Lawson, it could 
 hardly have been expected that she was unacquainted 
 with what, was, in part at least, the condition of affairs 
 as between the young lady and the party making the 
 request. 
 
 In order that the request of her cousin might receive 
 speedy attention, Miss Butler at once sought to get 
 from Miss Lawson the reason for the long delay in 
 answering her cousin John s letter. In reply to Miss 
 Butler s inquiry, Miss Lawson stated that she did not 
 intend to answer the letter. Miss Butler at once wrote 
 her cousin John the result of her inquiry, and sup 
 plemented that part of her reply by a rather severe 
 criticism upon the way the young lady had acted. 
 
 When Parson received Miss Bertha s answer to his 
 request, he, of course, was somewhat surprised, but, by 
 no means as much discomfitted as many others would 
 have been under similar circumstances. His recent visit, 
 with its attendant adventures had partially prepared him 
 for almost any thing that might come, as the result of 
 Miss Butler s investigation. The part of his cousin s 
 reply that gave him the only real reason for surprise 
 was, that Miss Lawson should have made no apology, 
 nor presented a motive for her strange conduct.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 133 
 
 So Miss Lawson declines to continue our corres 
 pondence, thought John, and has so expressed her 
 determination without offering any explanation for so 
 concluding. 
 
 With the presumption that this was all for the best, 
 so far as the results impinged upon him, John resolved 
 to write one more letter to Miss Lawson as a finality, 
 which would ring the curtains down upon what he 
 considered a badly played farce. Of all the characters 
 in the rendition of the ridiculous comedy which had 
 now closed, he considered himself by far the poorest 
 and most imcompetent actor. The young lady in the 
 role he thought, had come through rather brilliantly, 
 especially in her last hit, wherein she ignored the 
 obligations she was under by a promise to write. 
 Whether this little dodge from the demands of truth 
 would ever be accounted for, John cared not. He 
 concluded, however, that justice demanded something 
 further from his pen by way of explanation to Miss 
 Lawson, and he accordingly wrote the following letter 
 to her and sent it, together with every written communi 
 cation he had ever received from her, to Miss Bertha 
 Butler, with especial instruction to deliver them in 
 person to her. 
 
 Newton, Ky., April 4th, 184-. 
 Miss Mary Lawson, Winona, Ky.: 
 
 Miss MARY: The reception of this letter, which will 
 be handed you, through the favor of our mutual friend 
 Miss Bertha Butler will doubtless be a surprise to 
 you. But, let me assure you it cannot be more of a 
 surprise to you, than was your curt reply to the inter 
 rogator} of this same friend, who asked you why the 
 promised answer to her cousin s, then almost anti 
 quated letter, had not been sent him. I say curt
 
 134 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 answer, for such it surely seemed. Namely, "That it 
 had not been answered, and never would be." 
 
 That you had a perfect right to make her such 
 answer, I do not, for one moment question. I even 
 admit that you had a perfect right to indicate to my 
 cousin that you were tired of our correspondence. Xay 
 more. Although I knew that being tired of the, 
 correspondence, necessarily carried with it the idea of 
 being tired of the correspondent, I did not feel that 
 your independence, in this particular, should be 
 abridged. That you did not assign any reason for 
 your change of promised purpose, is a matter with 
 which I have nothing to do. 
 
 There is one feature of our communications, both 
 verbal and written, which I now most sincerely regret 
 should have existed. I \yas entirely too sanguine. I 
 interpreted ever} 7 smile you bestowed upon your ardent 
 boyish admirer as an evidence of attachment. Oh ! 
 how very simple it was, that I should ever become 
 enslaved by what proved to be an empty exhibit, 
 without either substance or soul how very puerile that 
 I should have been so suddenly decoyed by a mere 
 Will o The Wisp, under the guise of personal beauty 
 how ignorant was I, not to discover the gauz} r integu 
 ments that hung about the misleading ignis-fatuus a 
 woman s eyes. 
 
 It is passed. I have no wretchedness to deplore. 
 My eyes have been opened. I feel that the lesson I 
 have learned is unmixed with any bitterness that my 
 advancement in the knowledge of how to weigh and 
 understand human motives has been greatly enhanced. 
 You may not have intended to make of yourself, 
 during our comparatively short acquaintance, so valua 
 ble a teacher, but I shall certainly profit by your 
 instruction. 
 
 Miss Bertha Butler will not only be the bearer of 
 this letter to you, but she will also hand you the 
 bundle of letters, which is the aggregate of your part 
 of our correspondence. Before starting them I read 
 carefully and deliberately every word contained in
 
 WHAT NEXT? 135 
 
 every letter. I am free to confess that the last reading 
 to which I shall ever subject them, has been to me a 
 revelation. But enough. They were mine. Now they 
 are yours. 
 
 The daguerreotype I have of you, I presume you 
 will not object to my retaining. You will remember 
 that I asked that you give the artist a sitting for my 
 benefit, and consenting, I paid the artist for the picture 
 and its case. According to no law. social, legal or 
 moral, do I think I am wronging 3 ou by the reten 
 tion of what I consider my own. However, if you 
 think different, and will make the demand for it in 
 writing, it will be forwarded to you through the same 
 source as were the letters. 
 
 I have no desire to retain the picture save as a 
 souvenir, upon the face of which, as often as I look, 
 the quiet, placid, handsome face will plead with me to 
 be more wary as to where I bestow my attachments in 
 the future. This picture is all I shall have left of you 
 now, for to your real self, in no spirit of pining or 
 mournful regret, I now pen my 
 
 Farewell forever, 
 
 JOHN PARSONS. 
 
 About the time that the session of John s school was 
 drawing to a close, and about a month from the time 
 that John had written and sent his farewell letter to 
 Miss Lawson, he received a communication from Miss 
 Butler the lady who had been deputized to look into 
 the matter of the missing letter. She informed her 
 cousin that a great and grievous mistake had been 
 made in regard to the answer which Miss Lawson had 
 made to her about the promised letter, and which 
 answer had been transmitted to him. Bertha censured 
 herself more than any one else, and declared that 
 but for the fact of her being piqued at the answer Mary 
 Lawson had given to her question, no such mishap
 
 136 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 would have occurred. Miss Lawson stoutly maintained 
 ;that the answer she had made, was only made in jest, 
 :and that she had no thought of Bertha Butler s going 
 :in a jiffy, and penning her answer to her cousin. She 
 acknowledged she had been negligent in not complying 
 with her promise, but had no thought of that negli 
 gence getting her into trouble. In her explanation to 
 Miss Butler of her failure to write, as reported by that 
 .young lady, the flimsy pretext was resorted to of claim 
 ing that in the constant round of visiting and pleasure- 
 seeking, she had not found time to write. On the 
 presumption that a poor excuse was better than none, I 
 suppose, Miss Lawson had manufactured this apology 
 and had forwarded the same through Miss Butler, who 
 implored pardon for the part she had played in creating 
 an alienation between two young people, both of whom 
 she loved, and she importuned John to condone the act 
 of her friend Mary Lawson. A reply was at once 
 forwarded to his cousin and in it, it was stated that 
 what he had done could not be recalled that the steps 
 he had taken could not be retraced. He was frank to 
 confess, he stated, that her fatal letter had set the seal 
 upon his resolutions, but that there could be no appeal 
 taken upon his decision. He told her that through 
 weeks of painful anxiety, he had bourne up under 
 chagrin and disappointment, but when her letter came 
 he felt his hopes had been sacrificed, and their blighted 
 and charred remains were left to smoulder and die 
 upon the altar of his own heart. 
 
 John was even ready to say to his cousin that no 
 apology was due from her to any one. With the light 
 she had before her, her act could be considered as none 
 other than honest, and performed in good faith. That
 
 WHAT NEXT? 137 
 
 her interest in him, he told her, should have spurred 
 her to ready action, must be placed to the credit of 
 her cousinly devotion. 
 
 Upon the reception this letter, John studied the 
 matter over deliberately. He did not want to do 
 anything that would compromise his dignity as 
 a man. He did not want to leave anything upon his 
 conscience that would wake the fires of remorse. But, 
 study as he might, the determination became inten 
 sified to leave the matter where it was. What has 
 been broken in this instance, he reasoned, can not be 
 mended. There is no balm of Gilead to heal bruises 
 such as mine there is no priestess to fan to life the 
 fire of devotional attachment which has burned itself 
 out from neglect, upon the altar before which Mary 
 Lawson once officiated. 
 
 Young, ardent and enthusiastic in his first love affair, 
 his condition, in this particular part of his history, 
 can better be imagined than described. How, like a 
 tyro in heart trouble, did young Parsons appear as he 
 implored Miss Lawson to bring him some relief for a 
 wound which she had inflicted ! This was the first 
 outburst of passionate love which had ever known a 
 place in his soul. He had, as yet, learned no lesson 
 in deception. Integrity and honor had been commen 
 surate with his young life. 
 
 The love which John Parsons had had awakened in 
 his soul for Miss Lawson was no lambent flame that 
 must needs be tended as a thing of uncertain existence. 
 It was turbulent, aggressive, and would have often 
 overflowed and half-unnerved its possessor but for the 
 fact that his innate prudence held it in check. Such 
 devotion is not a thing to be petted and humored lest
 
 138 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 it grow restive and fret itself to death. It is the 
 consuming, indescribable, indefinable something that 
 lays siege to the human heart longingly, and 
 sometimes piteously asks for help. 
 
 The biggest trouble which John had to surmount 
 in deciding upon a course of action in regard to the 
 case of Miss Lawson, was that the farewell to her was 
 prematurely written. He wanted to be just to her, and 
 honest with himself. With a view to the settlement 
 of this question in his own mind, he examined and 
 re-examined all the circumstances connected with the 
 affair, and the oftener he examined it the more readily 
 the same conclusion was reached. By and by the 
 whole thing was labled "A mistake ," and hid away 
 in one of the cloisters of memory s sacred chambers, 
 never more to be subjected to criticism or to stir up 
 the pulsations of a deep regret. 
 
 Mistakes are not alwa3 T s disastrous. The} some 
 times become the refining fire through which, material 
 when passed, has its imperfections eliminated when it 
 comes forth purified and is worth more in the market 
 where estimates are placed upon an improved man 
 hood. 
 
 Such an effect was true in the case of John Parsons. 
 He was no less honest, but was shorn of his overweening 
 credulty. He was no less dignified in his general 
 bearing, but his dignity was not so completely wedded 
 to timidity. He was no less faultless but was more 
 charitable towards the faults of others, and when his 
 wounds had all scarred over, he most devoutlj* prayed 
 that when any specimen, fair and fascinating, of Eve s 
 decendants, ever employed one of the progeny of 
 Mercury to drag him into trouble by shooting in his
 
 WHAT NEXT? 139 
 
 direction, that the object of his devotion might not 
 have a widowed sister to substitute as her advisor. 
 
 Only a few days before the close of John s annual 
 term, Mr. Eli Watson again made application to 
 Parsons to accept a position as teacher for his neigh 
 borhood. As an inducement, Watson offered him a 
 stipulated salary of much higher figures than he had, 
 so far, been receiving. John considered the proposi 
 tion but for a few moments, and then told Watson 
 that he would accept his offer. 
 
 Arrangements were then made whereby John was to 
 visit the Yankee s school on the afternoon of its final 
 close. This proposition was advanced by Mr. Watson, 
 who seemed to think it would be well for the pupils to 
 become acquainted with their prospective or duly 
 elected new teacher. This arrangement did not 
 conflict with any of John s purposes, inasmuch as his 
 session would not close for one week after the 
 close of the school to be visited. 
 
 In harmony with this arrangement, on Friday, which 
 was the day designated as the time upon which John 
 Parsons visit was to be made to the Watson School, 
 he discontinued his w r ork at noon, and, mounting his 
 horse, was soon speeding his way to visit a school which 
 was presided over by a . Yankee teacher, but who was 
 to be superseded by a Kentuckian to the manor born. 
 
 While Parsons was yet quite a number of miles 
 away from his destination, the heralding thunder, 
 muttered ominously in the west and the gleaming 
 lightning, as the avant coureur, betokened the coming 
 of the storm. 
 
 Admonished by these signals, John spurred his 
 spirited young horse to a very high rate of speed. As
 
 140 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 he reached the crest of the hill overlooking the valley 
 in which the school-house to be visited was located, he 
 saw he was between a quarter and a half mile from the 
 school-building. From outward indications he was at 
 once aware that the race would be a stubborn-one to 
 reach shelter before the storm broke upon him. The 
 wind was blowing as though old Boreas had turned 
 his full force loose, and Parsons was in a John Gilpin 
 race for a place of safety. It was well that Parsons 
 horse came of good running stock, and was, on this 
 occasion, not disposed to go back on his pedigree. 
 For no sooner had he reached the stiles in front 
 of the school-house, than did he, throwing the reins 
 of his bridle over a post, jump from his horse, ungird his 
 saddle, jerk it from his horse and make a hippodrome 
 race for the school-room door. This he suddenly 
 pushed open and jumped inside, saddle in hand. 
 
 The confusion within was terrible. A panic had 
 seized the pupils, and they were manifesting their fright 
 in various ways. It was evident that order, under such 
 circumstances, was not to be expected. Some of the 
 pupils, with pallid faces, were wringing their hands in 
 very terror. Some who were more courageous than 
 others were watching through the windows the 
 elemental strife of the raging storm. Others more 
 timid were crouched down beneath the benches with 
 faces hidden in their hands. 
 
 Parsons was not superstitious, but despite his 
 reasoning, he could not down the thought that there 
 must be something ominous, in the fact that he had 
 been introduced to the field of his future labor in the 
 midst of such a raging storm. He naturally instituted 
 a comparison between the turbulence of the in-door
 
 WHAT NEXT? 141 
 
 scene about him, and the peaceful, quiet, sunlit 
 autumn morning, when he first stood in the presence 
 of seven sweet-faced little girls as his quota of pupils. 
 "Why have I been confronted," said he mentally, 
 "with a towering storm, as an introductory symphony 
 to this new arena ? Is this a portent of evil ? God 
 grant that as I outrode the storm this afternoon, I may 
 in the future be able to outride and over-ride every 
 trial, every tempation, and every evil that may blow 
 its foul breath in my face." 
 
 By and by the storm abated the clouds rolled into 
 the far away the winds stilled into the soft cadence of 
 a summer zephyr song. Anon the muttering thunder, 
 in its farewell reverberations, was ultimately lost 
 beyond the distant hills, and the sun came out beauti 
 ful and bright, lighting up the world with new glory. 
 
 Quiet having been restored among the pupils, John 
 introduced himself to the official incumbent, and 
 informed him that he had been regularly employed to 
 take charge of the school for the coming session. 
 John, in turn, was then introduced to the pupils, and 
 they were informed that he was the teacher who would 
 take charge of the school the following September, and 
 under whose management the school would be con 
 ducted. 
 
 After this introduction, John found that so much 
 time had been consumed by the passing of the storm, 
 that the hour for dismissal was well nigh at hand, and he 
 asked the privilege of saying a few words to the pupils 
 before they dispersed. This being granted, John made 
 a few well-timed remarks, to which all listened with 
 attention and apparent interest. He then observed 
 that when they had been dismissed, he desired that each
 
 142 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 of them should come forward and give him his or her 
 name, together with a hand of welcome. As each one 
 complied with this request, John held the extended 
 hand long enough to make a little, pleasant and 
 encouraging speech. 
 
 This brief episode in the history of the young 
 teacher, was a grand advertisement for him, as the 
 man who was soon to become the incumbent of an office 
 in which these children were to be the chief workers. 
 
 When all had scattered, and were making the welkin 
 ring with their joyous shouts, mounting his horse John 
 was soon beyond the sight of their youthful gambol- 
 ings, and out of the hearing of their mirthful 
 exultation. 
 
 To secure a boarding-house was not difficult, as Mr. 
 Watson, when applied to, readily consented to take 
 the young man into his family. The Watson residence 
 was about a mile from the school house, but John did 
 not consider the distance objectionable, as he thought 
 exercise indispensable to one who led a sedentary life, 
 and to walk that distance twice daily, he thought 
 would be beneficial to him. 
 
 Just a short time before the opening of John s 
 school, he received a letter from his cousin Bertha 
 Butler, in which the statement was made that her 
 friend Miss Lawson, with whom she had recently had a 
 lengthy conversation, had unfolded to her more of the 
 grief and disquietude resulting from the unfortunate 
 affair of the letter, than she imagined the young lady 
 had ever experienced. Miss Butler then again pre 
 sented her side of the trouble, and dwelt at length 
 upon the sorrow she had brought upon her friend Mary 
 because of one inadvertent and hasty act.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 143 
 
 "Canyounot, my dear cousin," said Bertha, "condone 
 an act that was wholly unintentional? I cannot think you 
 are hard hearted. There must be enough of noble 
 generosity in your nature to bid you bow to the plead 
 ings which I lift with deep and he?rt-felt anxiety 
 because of the part I played in the unfortunate affair. 
 I want to be forgiven, not by you, for you have already 
 indicated that I have lost none of the esteem which 
 you entertained for me. But I want to be forgiven of 
 myself for my indiscretion and my want of caution. 
 I want to be forgiven of myself for the deep and heart- 
 disturbing grief which I brought upon my disconsolate 
 friend. Oh ! John, could I picture for you a face over 
 hung by a shadow of semi-despair as we talked the 
 matter all over again, I can but think that the 
 noble heart of my cousin would re-lent, and that he 
 would fly to the side of her whose wounds are still so 
 fresh." 
 
 "Come, cousin ; Oh ! do come. I can but think that 
 if you smother your pride and come to the relief of two 
 sorrowing girls, it will not be long before you will 
 realize that you are panoplied anew for a better and 
 nobler life. 
 
 When John had finished reading this letter, a shadow 
 might have been discovered to be over-spreading a face, 
 from which all gloom had been recently chased. 
 To the onlooker it would have been easily discov 
 ered that the sitting of that shadow on that face 
 betokened the absorbing theme his mind was then 
 engaged in conning over. Soliloquizing, the reader, 
 letter in hand, said, "Can it be possible that I under 
 valued the wealth of affection which Mary Lawson 
 carried for me ? Is it true that from timidity and bad
 
 144 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 advice, a real genuine heart hid its devotions for me 
 behind a cloak of formality which was but a disguise ? 
 Can it be that my own mental obtuseness prevented 
 me from discovering the real genuine jewel because it 
 was concealed by a covering which another bid it wear ? 
 Oh! how deeply do I regret that through any act of mine 
 one single thrill of sadness should have found even a 
 momentary lodgement in the heart of Miss Lawson. If 
 cousin Bertha represents the true inwardness of Miss 
 Lawson s soul, I have ten thousand reasons for self- 
 condemnation where either of the young ladies have 
 one. I was too ready to discover suppositional faults 
 I was too ready to put a false inteipretation upon a 
 word misunderstood a look erroniously defined. I 
 could almost curse the suspicion which misled me. 
 But why indulge in this fit of self-censure ? The die is 
 cast, the Rubicon is past, and I cannot retrace my 
 steps. I will so write to Bertha, but while I must say 
 that a retracing of my steps is absolutely something I 
 cannot do, I will administer the balm of consolation 
 to the young lady as far as I can. Now, What 
 Next ?
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "She was the pride 
 Of her familiar sphere the daily joy 
 Of all who on her gracefulness might gaze, 
 And in the litfht and music of her way 
 Have a companion s portion." 
 
 Willis. 
 
 I [HEN John Parsons moved into his new boarding- 
 house and began teaching the new school, he was 
 somewhat slow in forming an acquaintance 
 with the heads of the families and the young 
 people of the neighborhood who were past the age for 
 attending school. With the pupils under his charge he 
 was soon on terms of sufficient intimacy and estab 
 lished influence to bring every one under the power of 
 that influence and yet have each one feel that there 
 was a recognized and true friend in the new teacher. 
 
 Little by little he became known to nearly all who 
 would be likely to become interested in his welfare, 
 and, inasmuch as he was what is termed a good 
 mixer, by reason of his genial and cheerful disposition, 
 his elegant and attractive* manners, as well as his 
 superior conversational powers, he soon became quite 
 a favorite among both the old and the young. 
 
 Mr. Watson had quite a family of children. Among 
 them were two daughters, the elder having attained 
 the age which placed an unmarried lady on the old 
 maid list ; while the younger, who was good looking, 
 was in attendance upon a small boarding-school, and 
 came home on Friday in each week. The rest of Mr. 
 Watson s girls were younger and attended Parsons 
 school. There were three grown sons in the Watson 
 family, all of whom* were very rough and unlettered. 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 10.
 
 146 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 As a boarder in the family, John found himself very 
 pleasantly situated. The ladies in the family, from 
 the mother down, vied with each other in the nice 
 little attentions which fhey could show him. Was a 
 dining spread for visitors, inasmuch as Parsons did not 
 come home to dinner, Miss Lena Watson, the eldest 
 daughter, was sure to put by a part of the nice 
 delicacies which had been offered to the visitors ; and, 
 upon his return, which was late in the afternoon, set 
 the same before the young teacher. Of course this was 
 very agreeable to Parsons, and served to strengthen 
 the chain of friendship which was being wrought 
 between him and the Watson family. 
 
 It was soon discovered by Parsons that Miss Lena 
 Watson was one of the best versed women in the whole 
 country in regard to the history of its oldest and most 
 influential families. John never learned from what source 
 Miss Lena obtained her information, but it was generally 
 conceded that her pedigree-reading was not only in 
 the main correct, but in most cases absolutely 
 accurate. 
 
 There was living in close proximity to the school 
 building a family wearing the name of Rowdon. With 
 the exception of the small girls of this family, who 
 attended his school, John had become acquainted with 
 none of its members. 
 
 In conversation with Miss Lena, only a short time 
 after he came into the community, John Parsons made 
 some inquiries in regard to the Rowdon family, and 
 was greatly surprised to hear her give such a succinct 
 and complete epitome of its history. 
 
 "To begin," said Miss Lena, "Mr. Rowdon is a very 
 eccentric man. Indeed he is so peculiar that even the
 
 WHAT NEXT? 147 
 
 people about him criticise his indiosyncrasies. He is a 
 good neighbor, however; kind, obliging and charitable. 
 His father emigrated about the middle of the last 
 century to the United States from the county of Cork, 
 Ireland, very early in the history of the Republic. His 
 son, Henry Rowdon, came from Virginia just before 
 the beginning of the present century and located in 
 this county. About the same time a family of Robin 
 sons emigrated to the States from the county of 
 Anglesia, Wales, and settled in Virginia. Remaining 
 there but a short time, they too came from there to 
 Kentucky and domiciled themselves in this county. In 
 this family there were several very handsome and 
 sprightly young ladies, one of whom Mr. Henry Rowdon 
 married. 
 
 "The union between these two people, whose 
 progenitors were representatives of two divisions of 
 the country of George III., resulted in giving to this 
 particular country a family of no mean pretentious. 
 
 "Mr. Henry Rowdon is a man of vigorous intellect, 
 and wonderful energy. He exhibits his Hibernian 
 origin in a very marked degree, in every lineament of 
 his face, and in the pugnacious bravery with which he 
 fights his way through difficulties that lie in the way 
 of financial success. He began life a poor boy, and 
 even when he had accumulated but little property, he 
 married Miss Elizabeth Robinson, and the two started 
 out at once upon the road to success. His wife proved 
 to be a frugal, prudent, model house-keeper a provi 
 dent and industrious helper an excellent neighbor 
 a devoted mother, and, as the coronet to a life full of 
 good deeds and noble charities, she had a pure mind, 
 and was a devoted Christian.
 
 148 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 "This, Mr. Parsons," said Miss Watson, "is proba 
 bly about as far as I ought to go, with my history and 
 my compliments. When you shall have been longer in 
 our midst, and your acquaintance with this family 
 shall have become more matured, you will learn, 
 through your social intercourse with them, as well a& 
 from those who are intimate with the family, just how 
 to appreciate them." 
 
 " I am under obligations to you, Miss Lena, for the 
 information you have given me. I do not know that I 
 shall make myself so specially interested in the Rowdon 
 family, as to push my investigations very much 
 further," said Parsons. "As a patron of my school, I 
 shall certainly make myself sufficiently interested in 
 the welfare of Mr. Rowdon s household, to do all in my 
 power to further the interest of his younger daughters, 
 and if, from any information you have given me, I can 
 the better see my way to the accomplishing of my 
 professional purposes, I shall feel that I am under still 
 greater obligations." 
 
 I might in justice to her memory," said Miss 
 Watson, "add just this much. Mrs. Rowdon consid 
 ered it to be her first duty, under Divine teaching, as she 
 understood it, to visit the fatherless and widows in 
 their affliction, and to keep (herself) unspotted from 
 the world. Her second obligation was to her family, 
 and few mothers carried more solicitude and maternal 
 kindness than did this most excellent woman, 
 for her children, and no one in fall this region 
 wore a better name for her universal kindness, or had 
 a more widely spread reputation for unstinted gener 
 osity than did Mrs. Rowdon." 
 
 From other sources, John Parsons learned that by
 
 WHAT NEXT? 149 
 
 close attention to business on the part of Mr. Rowdon, 
 and patient and painstaking industry on the part of 
 his wife, the exhibitions of thrift did not, for any 
 length of time, lie concealed about their home. 
 Prosperity was evident everywhere about them. The 
 accumulation of acres, and the consequent widening of 
 the limits of Mr. Rowdon s possessions in real estate, 
 was commented upon by his neighbors. Whenever a 
 piece of land was thrown upon the market in his 
 immediate locality he became the purchaser, provided 
 the price and quality suited him. In this way his land, 
 in the aggregate, made him the owner of one of the 
 largest plantations in the county. He owned more 
 slaves than any other man in the county, and these 
 together with his stock, blue-grass pastures, garnered 
 grain and provender betokened a large share of pros 
 perity. 
 
 But, in the very height of his success, an irreparable 
 calamity befell him in the loss of his noble wife. To 
 make the misfortune worse, he was left with a family 
 of children all girls, and no one of them grown. To 
 compensate, as far as possible for their bereavement, a 
 maiden aunt went to their help, and to some extent at 
 least, supplied the place of her deceased sister. 
 
 To a man with less resolution and less determination 
 such a stunning blow would have produced a temporary 
 parah r sis in his business arrangements, and the 
 settling down upon him of a cloud of impenetrable 
 grief. Not so .with Mr. Rowdon. He looked upon his 
 misfortune with the eye of a philosopher as one of 
 those strange events in human life for which there is 
 no accounting. He seemed to think that having used 
 every effort in his power to cheat the despoiler of human
 
 150 WHAT. NEXT? 
 
 hopes of his prize, and having failed, neither grief nor 
 pining could mend what death had in rudeness broken, 
 and he would give a renewal of his energies to the care 
 and comfort of his children, 
 
 The eldest of the Rowdon children, a daughter, was 
 just entering her teens when the calamitous misfortune 
 of losing her mother occurred. When the announce 
 ment was made to her that her mother was no more, 
 it fell upon her ears with a sickening thud from the 
 effect of which, as soon as she had rallied, she began 
 to wonder what disposition would be made of the 
 household. "Who will give our flock care and counsel 
 bv day or hovering protection by night?" said 
 Lunata Rowdon, now that my mother is gone ! Alas ! 
 who will interest themselves sufficiently in our welfare 
 to direct us with their advice, or in kindness, correct 
 our mistakes ? Oh ! Lord, how heavily this heart 
 hangs in my poor body, when I think that there is no 
 one now before whose listening ears we can present 
 our childish petitions, or unfold our childish griefs. 
 
 Miss Lunata Rowdon was the eldest of the family of 
 children, and was the only one among them of 
 sufficient maturity to have a full appreciation of the 
 calamity which had befallen them. All seemed stunned, 
 but the grief of the little children was like sunshine 
 in its play of shower-drops left bj r the rain after an April 
 shower. Poor little children ! They would never know of 
 what they had been robbed, and it was well for them 
 that a buoyant brightness could so soon supercede the 
 passing gloom. 
 
 With Lunata it was different. Whether in the early 
 morning during the busy hours of the day, or in the 
 gloaming, sorrow and grief-stricken meditation told
 
 WHAT NEXT? 15 1 
 
 the doleful tale of her suffering. At high noon, when 
 the household was wont to gather about the 
 famil} board, and no mother was there to preside, 
 Lunata s heart would be troubled, and with difficulty 
 did she suppress her tears and stifle her rising sighs. 
 In the night-time, when a sable curtain hung above a 
 hemisphere, and all save herself in the house were in 
 slumber, she listened, as in imagination she heard the 
 flute-like lullaby of that mother s voice as it had been 
 so often heard, while singing her baby girl to sleep. 
 Waking from her re very, her heart would be full of 
 pain. But in the midst of this consuming sorrow her 
 eyes would peer into the azure depths, and she would 
 wonder; Ah ! yes, wonder if mother s voice was not 
 helping to swell the chorus of Heaven. 
 
 Time s curative power is almost a marvel. It can 
 soothe sorrow, alleviate grief, cure spiritual wounds, 
 brush the clouds from about the mental horizon and 
 hang the future full of brightening prospects. It is really 
 a wonderful sedative. In its quieting effects it will 
 bring relief when all other remedies have signally 
 failed. 
 
 Although Miss Lunata Rowdon was so very young, 
 for one of her years she was remarkably well developed 
 both physically and mentally. She was in reality a 
 girl-woman. She possessed an unusual amount of 
 that commodity which so few young women know very 
 much about, namely: Common sense. The mother 
 before her had been a woman of large ideas and fine 
 business qualifications. She always had, in the 
 discharge of such duties as devolved upon her, in the 
 management of household work, the very best and 
 soundest judgment. When her husband was from home,
 
 152 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 which was often the case, no part of either the in-door 
 work, or the farming operations suffered for the want 
 of an overseer. She superintended everj thing, and 
 whatever w r as done under her direction was well done. 
 
 Lunata being the oldest child, and devoted to her 
 mother, soon became a kind of coadjutor in the prosecu 
 tion and oversight of the work necessary to be done, any- 
 where and everywhere upon the Rowdon plantation. Not 
 that she or her mother took part in any of the manual 
 labor done, but looked after the work and saw that the 
 hands neither shirked from duty nor slighted what was 
 done. 
 
 In this way Lunata was, at an early period in her 
 history, inducted into the mysteries of actual, active 
 business. Upon the loss of her mother, it became at 
 once evident that a change in the affairs of the Rowdon 
 family had to be made. Miss Lunata being the oldest, 
 by right of her birth, was made to assume the position 
 which was unsuited to her years, and which she could 
 not have filled but for the instruction and training 
 which she had received at the hands of her mother. 
 
 The father was devoted to this daughter, but, from 
 the press of business which was continually on his 
 hands, Lunata knew she could not rely on getting very 
 much help from her father in superintending the work 
 to which she had been appointed. There was one 
 thing, however, in which Lunata took comfort. The 
 retinue of servants seemed to consider her as the queen 
 regent of the plantation, and were ready always to do 
 her bidding, or make any sacrifice in obedience to her 
 dictum. By a uniform course of kindness, in her 
 treatment of these slaves, they became bound to her 
 by the ties of a high personal regard, and would have
 
 WHAT NEXT? 153 
 
 gone any length to confer a favor, or even gratify a 
 whim. She was a kind of idol among them, and with 
 superstitous devotion had she but erected an altar, they 
 would have laid thereon their best votive offerings. 
 She was equally kind to all. None were too old to be 
 freed from her attentions none too young to pass in 
 her presence unnoticed. She was considerate and 
 thoughtful in regard to the comfort of all. Contribu 
 tions were not unfrequently made to their cabin 
 hospitalities, when visitors called upon their occupants. 
 By this course she won the love and confidence of the 
 little battalion of negro slaves who were an appendage 
 to the Rowon plantation, and, under her mild reign 
 there is much to show that they were happier, better 
 provided for, if not better satisfied than any of them 
 have ever been since, unless it be those who have gone 
 to a place where color, caste and birth are wholly 
 ignored. 
 
 It is astonishing to see what wondrous results are some 
 times produced as the outcome of necessity. Miss 
 Lunata Rowdon s tact, skill, push and energy in filling 
 a place, into which she had been forced by an almost 
 absolute compulsion, attracted the attention of all 
 visitors to the family mansion. So noticeable was this 
 as a peculiar manifestation of executive ability, that it 
 gave rise to many declarations, as to what would be, 
 in the near future, her adaptability to preside as queen 
 of hearts, in the house of some worthy gentleman. 
 
 For three years after the death of her mother, Lunata 
 conducted the affairs of her father s household success 
 fully. He was a shrewd and successful financier, and, 
 in his business exterprise, had in his daughter a faithful 
 and trusty ally.
 
 154 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 As Miss Rowdon grew in years she grew in pop 
 ularity with both the young and old. When she had 
 attained her sixteenth year, she was regarded as the 
 belle the accredited beauty of her county. 
 
 Miss Lunata was prematurely developed, as has al 
 ready been said, for one of her years; and yet, even under 
 the embarrassing and disadvantageous circumstances 
 by which she had been environed, she had built for 
 herself upon a comparatively slight foundation, a good 
 education. This result she accomplished by a rigid 
 course of self-culture, and a well selected course of 
 general reading. Polite literature she engaged in 
 perusing very much as she ate a relish or an appetizer 
 before breakfast never using it in large quantities. If, 
 at any time she found herself stranded in her inves 
 tigation of some occult proposition in science, the 
 teacher of the neighborhood school was usually glad to 
 lend her a helping hand. She had inherited much of 
 the keen and discriminating intellectuality of her 
 father and was therefore a ready and rapid learner. As 
 her general intelligence and fund of useful knowledge 
 increased, in a corresponding ratio did the sparkling 
 brightness of a well-stored mind add to the charms of 
 her personal beauty. The wonder with those who were 
 even most intimately acquainted with the young lady 
 was, as to the source from which she derived such a 
 supply of useful information from what fountain she 
 gathered such power as a bright conversationalist, and 
 whence came her gift of read}- wit. 
 
 Could those, whose curiosit} had been aroused on 
 these points, have been able to comprehend the powers 
 of a superior mind, when backed by an indomitable 
 will, in its acquisition of knowledge, and have them 
 discover that the mind of Miss Rowdon answered as
 
 WHAT NEXT: 155 
 
 to its powers, the question of the investigator, the 
 problem would be solved. But, so it was, MissRowdon 
 was educated, and but very few knew how or when. 
 
 It will be somewhat difficult to draw a word picture 
 of the young lady who was to become so important a 
 factor in the make-up of this epitome of historical 
 love, devotion to the principles of right, and uncom 
 promising fidelity to truth. 
 
 The young lady whose picture I would seek to draw 
 in words, was a decided brunette, with a possible 
 exception as to her eyes. These were blue not large, 
 but expressive, speaking eyes eyes in which the 
 witchery of fun and mischief danced in their every 
 sparkle. Her hair was ebon black and as glossy as a 
 raven s wing. It lay in wavy ringlets about a well propor 
 tioned head, and was quite a truthful, if not a scientific 
 barometer, in its more or less persistent curling with 
 the changes in the weather. Such hair as crowned the 
 head of her whose picture I am still essaying to draw, 
 was an ornament which excited the covetousness of many 
 a fair admirer, and elicited the universal admiration of 
 every man whose attention was caught thereby. Her 
 features were strictly classic, strong and well defined. 
 Her complexion was a contest for supremacy between 
 marmorean whiteness and the roseate pink of the 
 queen of flowers the one or the other in the ascen 
 dency, as there was the spirited flow of animated 
 conversation or the quiet of pensive meditation. In form 
 the young lady was a pattern of symmetry. Every curve 
 in her well-rounded body was a definition of 
 Hogarth s line of beauty. In pose she would have 
 been a model for the sculptor. 
 
 This, kind reader, is the picture I have attempted to
 
 156 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 draw, as a word portraiture of Miss Lunata Rowdon, as 
 she stood before an admirer in the unblemished beauty 
 of her young womanhood, over a half a century ago. 
 It is faithful to life. Do you like it ? I have given it 
 as it was given me. 
 
 There are many other things besides her personal 
 appearance which rendered Miss Rowdon especially 
 attractive. She was a young lady of fine address a 
 large share of good, common sense, supplemented by 
 a rich vein of sparkling vivacit} . To the existence of 
 vanity in her make-up, because of any special endow 
 ments of either mind or body, she was absolutely 
 ignorant, and she was, at all times, agreeable, because 
 she was naturally an embodiment of unsuspecting 
 goodness. That a young lady with such qualities 
 such attributes of character should attract attention, 
 and draw about her a large number of admirers, was 
 not at all strange. More especially was it not a mat 
 ter of surprise to those who were well acquainted with 
 the 3 r oung lady, that she should have had so very much 
 attention. 
 
 That Miss Lunata s father should have made himself 
 sufficiently interested in her young gentlemen visitors, 
 to lead him to seek to understand the object of their 
 visits, was not wondered at, by those who knew him. 
 He was quite avaricious, and, therefore, wanted his 
 daughter, whenever she began to think of making a 
 matrimonial alliance, to keep before her mental vision 
 the French maxim, that "Love is potent, but money is 
 omnipotent." 
 
 Miss Rowdon had not really made her debut into 
 the circle of society, when a young bachelor, who 
 had nothing to recommend him except a farm which
 
 WHAT NEXT? 157 
 
 adjoined the lands of Mr. Rowdon, became acquainted 
 with Miss Lunata, and was not only well pleased but 
 fascinated by her beauty and brightness. He therefore 
 determined to put himself at once in the van of those 
 who had been showing her attention and soon 
 intimated to his friends that he was her accepted wooer. 
 
 This young man Aurelius Munson by name, very 
 justly concluded that Mr. Rowdon would favor his suit 
 for three reasons. First : because of his having lived 
 long enough to have gathered his last crop of wild 
 oats ; secondly, because of the farm which he owned, 
 and which bordered the Rowdon territory, and thirdly, in 
 consideration of the fact that Aurelius had some rich 
 relatives whose property it was thought, would ultimately 
 come into his possession in part as one of the legatees. Au 
 relius did not count without his host. He was by no means 
 an attractive man coarse, ungainly, and almost as 
 dark colored as a Spaniard, he was also very illiterate; 
 but his illiteracy did not set him back any. He con 
 sidered himself as good as the best, and was oblivious 
 to the fact that he used a very peculiar or antiquated 
 style of corrupted English. He was a big talker, and 
 as a laugher, he was counted a decided success. He 
 commenced paying court to Miss Lunata Rowdon, 
 while, as yet, she was too young to contemplate the 
 reception of gentlemen visitors, with a view to court 
 ship. She received the attention at the hands of the 
 young man and treated him politely in deference to the 
 wishes of her father. 
 
 For some reason Mr. Rowdon had formed a very 
 favorable opinion of the young farming bachelor, and 
 it was very nice to have him stop by every evening or 
 two talk business with the father for a time, provided
 
 158 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 he was at home, and devote another part of his time 
 in chatting chaff with the daughter. 
 
 Munson always rode a good horse, and heing an 
 excellent and graceful rider, he made quite a respect 
 able appearance, when seen at a distance. He made 
 rather a bad appearance on foot. He was crooked and 
 walked with an ambling, ungainly gait, and hence was 
 at his best when astride a spirited and well-gaited 
 horse. 
 
 As to the personal popularity of bachelor Munson, 
 it was without discount among young men and old folks, 
 but among the young ladies of the country it was consid 
 erably below par, a large majority of them voting him 
 an illiterate bore. But his want of education had no 
 influence with Mr. Rowdon. Aurelius could talk hogs, 
 cattle, horses, and farm work generally, and the elder 
 gentleman considered this as education enough to 
 recommend a young man to the consideration of all 
 honest people. 
 
 As already said, Miss Lunata Rowdon s attractive 
 ness did not fail to elicit a due amount of appreciation. 
 Wherever she went she was sure to draw from young 
 and old, flattering testimonials of their admiration of her 
 beauty of person her mental activity and ready wit. 
 She was handsome, without seeming to have discovered 
 the fact, She was often facetious or even satirical without 
 an effort to be either, and among the many who 
 admired her, Aurelius Munson was readiest in the 
 encomiums which he whispered to himself yes, to 
 himself, for he feared that if he became loud-mouthed in 
 his expressions of admiration, it might be the means 
 of stirring up other admirers, while he thought she had 
 too many already.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 159 
 
 Aurelius was ever on the qui vive to know who 
 visited the Rowdons. When the young men of the 
 county called on the paterfamilias even upon business, 
 the suspicion of Munson was not quieted until he had 
 discovered that the visit was not intended for Miss 
 Lunata. 
 
 The attention which Munson gave to his daughter 
 w r as favored by Mr. Rowdon, and his pleasure, because 
 of his special and frequent calls, was manifested in 
 various ways. Indeed so conspicuous did his favoritism 
 become that he was criticised because of it by both young 
 and old. In addition to the various outward exhibits 
 of popularity which the father showed for the young 
 bachelor, it became known that whenever the time was 
 propitious for so doing, he was ready to repeat, in 
 the hearing of Lunata, some compliment that had 
 been paid to Munson by some one of his neighbors. 
 
 It became evident, from what was known to be 
 transpiring in the Rowdon family that the head of that 
 houshold had about settled the matter in his own 
 mind in regard to the marriage of his oldest daughter. 
 In other words, he had selected the bachelor as the 
 spouse of his daughter, whenever she reached a mar- 
 riagable age. This being true, settled another matter, 
 namely: that the man who attempted to thwart the 
 purpose of the father of Miss Lunata Rowdon in 
 matters matrimonial, would invite an unequal contest, 
 unless he could bring the young lady to the point of 
 defiant rebellion against parental authority; for, even 
 in the event of direct filial disobedience, there was no 
 insurance office to be found which would take a risk 
 upon success either way. 
 
 M iss Lunata was too young to marry, but she was
 
 160 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 not too young to be courted, thought Aurelius too 
 young to be driven into the matrimonial net, but not 
 too young to be tied by pledges that .would prevent her 
 escaping into some other fellow s net, in the future. 
 He had known her long enough to be profoundly 
 impressed with her uncompromising integrity, and 
 would therefore have been relieved, and his mind 
 quieted, by securing from her the pledge that his claim 
 should be first considered whenever she came into the 
 connubial market. 
 
 Munson|may have been able to drive a sharp trade in 
 an ordinary horse-market, but his judgment was 
 woefully deficient in dealing in futures. His math 
 ematics was presumably better than his prophecy his 
 credulity more abundant than his good sense. But he 
 was opinionated, and proposed to undertake a very 
 large job, expecting, of course, to have the backing 
 and support of the young lady s father in his proposed 
 enterprise. 
 
 The amount of confidence which the bachelor 
 evinced in being able to corral the prize sought, was 
 absolutely amazing. He was, by no means, a first 
 class hand at throwing a love-lariat, and his inex 
 perience and blunt awkwardness, it was predicted, 
 would lose him success in any event. He wanted no 
 help. He did not enter into this feat of securing by 
 craft the desired pledge contemplating defeat. He 
 banked largely on the course which his potent aux 
 iliary could, and would bring to bear in the rear. 
 
 With the bearing of a knighted cavalier he approached 
 the young lady and somewhat confidentially opened up 
 the subject for which his visit was made. To hi& 
 stammering and illy worded speech, she listened in
 
 WHAT NEXT? 161 
 
 wonderment. When he reached a point where a colon 
 was needed she waited not for farther talk to reach 
 the marking of a period, hut at once made a reply 
 with what needed a very large interrogation point. She 
 asked him why he had come into her presence with such 
 a strange and incongruous medley of declarations. She 
 informed him that she had supposed him to be a rather 
 special friend of her father, but had never thought that 
 he desired to be considered even a particular friend of 
 her, much less that he desired to come into a more 
 sacred relation than a friend to her. She told him she 
 would still be glad to consider him the friend of her fa 
 ther and his family, but that he must not consider 
 himself at liberty to approach her in any other way than 
 as a friend. She stated further that she detested duplicity 
 and, for this reason, had spoken frankly and with 
 candor what she had to say. 
 
 The bachelor was taken somewhat aback at this 
 speech of Miss Lunata, but was not dismayed. He 
 studied for a few moments as to how he would renew 
 his attack ; and, inasmuch as he had been somewhat 
 bold in his first charge, only to meet with a serious 
 repulse, he concluded that discretion was needed in the 
 fight upon which he had entered, and therefore resolved 
 upon a flank movement to be accompanied with a 
 little less dash. Caution and prudence, he discovered, 
 must be used in beating down the bulwarks of a well 
 fortified and well guarded set of affections, and he 
 proceeded accordingly. 
 
 On leaving the Rowdon homestead, after this, his 
 first attack upon the citadel of Miss Lunata s heart, 
 and meeting with the defeat which he did, the feathers 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 11.
 
 162 W.iAT NEXT? 
 
 of the opinionated wooer were very much wilted. But, 
 going away, he studied himself into an amount of 
 fresh courage, and resolved upon a renewal of 
 his efforts to secure a new and better hearing of his 
 plea. When next he put in an appearance, all bland- 
 ness and smiles, at the Rowdon home, Miss Lunata, 
 with the grace and elegance of the true lady, gave him 
 a pleasant greeting and informed him her father was 
 not at home, and would not be till quite late in the 
 afternoon. 
 
 Munson asked to be excused, and informed the young 
 lady that he had not called to make a visit to her 
 father, but had simply stopped in upon passing to 
 make a friendly call upon her that he was fond of 
 her personally that he liked her company and had 
 always found her a good conversationalist. He insisted 
 that she could not be wholly uninterested in his calling, 
 as it was a complimentary act, both to her and himself. 
 He thought it a compliment to her as evincing good 
 taste to seek her company, and a compliment to him 
 self as showing good judgment. 
 
 Miss Lunata saw at once that there was a toning 
 down in the deportment of the bachelor. He was 
 neither so presumptuous nor so boisterous as he had been 
 on a former visit he had not so definately pushed 
 himself upon her consideration, nor laughed so loud. 
 In the goodness of her nature she had aroused in her 
 mind some degree of sympathy and pity for the 
 bachelor, and was not sufficiently adroit to conceal 
 entirely the workings of her own heart. Munson saw 
 the change in her face and demeanor. He took 
 courage, and, rising to leave, asked Miss Rowdon if she
 
 WHAT NEXT? 163 
 
 would object to his calling on her now and then. To 
 which she replied by sajdng, that as a friend, his visits 
 would not be objectionable. 
 
 Munson availedjhimself of the permission to call at 
 such intervals as might be understood by his "now 
 and then," and became a very frequent visitor to the 
 young lady. In fact, so frequent did they become 
 that his attention to Miss Rowdon was commented 
 upon in the gossipy talk of the neighborhood their 
 frequency seemed to have created the general impres 
 sion that at no distant day, there would be a surrender 
 a grounding of arms, and a capitulation before 
 Hymen s altar. These prophecies, however, would 
 sometimes meet with a set-back. 
 
 Upon being questioned by special friends in regard 
 to the condition of the matters, as between Mr. Munson 
 and herself, Miss Lunata would unblushingly and reso 
 lutely declare there was no bond between them, except 
 that of friendship, and would sometimes, with ingeni- 
 ousness, most emphatically declare that no votive 
 offering would ever be laid upon Hymen s altar in 
 which there would be a pledge of her affections to 
 Aurelius Munson. She was ready to acknowledge that 
 he was a plain, uneducated, clever farmer, but that the 
 characteristic of cleverness, coupled with ignorance, 
 was something she could not appreciate. She said she 
 thought his qualifications were good as far as they 
 went, but they did not include enough that her heart 
 demanded, and would not be satisfied with less than 
 a better ideal than she could find in Mr. Munson. 
 
 In these asseverations, Miss Lunata seemed to be 
 perfectly honest, and yet her declarations appeared to 
 be contradicted by the continued frequency of Munson s
 
 164 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 visits. When asked if the close and cordial friend 
 ship between Aurelius and her father could lead to 
 such frequency in the visits of the latter to the former, 
 with undisguised honesty and outspoken candor, for 
 which she was noted, she would frankly own that 
 Munson s visits were not to her father, but to her. 
 
 Without any change in the condition of matters 
 between Munson and Miss Lunata, a year had well 
 nigh run its round, and still with indefatigable persist 
 ency he continued his visits, and when a little raillery 
 was indulged in at his expense by his young friends, as- 
 would now and then be done, he invariably tried to- 
 leave the impression that the precise day had not been 
 set, but that the time was not far away when he would 
 lead the fair Lunata to the altar. He was not slow to 
 openly avow that he had a verbal first mortgage upon 
 the hand of the young lady, and the time was not 
 over-long till the foreclosure would take place. Really 
 he seemed at times ready to scout the idea of any 
 other gentleman calling upon Lunata with serious 
 intentions. 
 
 Backed, as he thought himself to be, by the desire 
 of her father. Aurelius began a course of pressing his 
 claims upon the unwilling ears of Lunata, which gave 
 her trouble. With her wonted exhibit of polite firmness, 
 she declared, as she had declared a hundred times 
 before, that she did not, and could not love him, and 
 consequently, would never marry him. In turn she 
 would become the pleader, and would beseech him to 
 present no more propositions. She was willing, she 
 averred, to allow his name to remain on the list of her 
 friends, but as a wooer he must desist, as she could 
 no longer receive his addresses. She almostimplor-
 
 WHAT NEXT? 165 
 
 ingly begged him to discontinue his visits, because they 
 had placed her in an unenviable light in the neighbor 
 hood, and had kept other young men from visiting her, 
 whose friendship she coveted, and whose companion 
 able associations she really desired to enjoy. 
 
 This speech of Miss Lunata s was a poser, and, in 
 apparent discdmforture, he retired and left her to hold 
 communion with her own thoughts. But there was so 
 much of real, genuine kindness in her great, big soul, 
 that, before he had disappeared bej ond her sight, as she 
 stood at the window and watched his retreat, she was 
 moved to pity and felt half disposed to censure herself 
 for her captious declarations. 
 
 Lunata Rowdon knew that Munson loved her. His 
 earnest, but awkward pleadings proved his devotion. 
 Through months added to months, he had come, as 
 though some magnetic power drew him into her 
 presence. But his coming was like the approach of 
 similar poles of an electric battery, only to be thrown 
 apart. Poor fellow ! She pitied him, but she could 
 not love him.
 
 CHAPTER VI V. 
 
 How er it be, it seems to me, 
 
 Tis only noble to be jjood : 
 
 Kind hearts fire more tluin coronets. 
 
 And simple faith than Norman blood." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 ATTERS in connection with the wooing of Miss 
 Limata Rowdon by Aurelius Munson had al)out 
 reached their climax when John Parsons put in 
 an appearance as the teacher of the district 
 school, as per agreement between him and Mr. Watson 
 at which time the general impression with a majority 
 of the people in the vicinity of the Rowdon home 
 seemed to be that a wedding between Miss Lunata 
 and Munson must very soon take place. The 
 reason why such an opinion was rife in the minds 
 of every one who ventured an opinion in regard 
 to the outcome of the suit of Munson, was the 
 length of time he had been assiduously pushing his 
 claims for her hand. The knowledge, as indicated by 
 the frequency of his visits to the young lady 
 seemed to warrant such a conclusion. 
 
 Parsons boarding-house was so situated as to make it 
 necessary, in going to and from his school by the most 
 direct route, to pass immediately in front of the Rowdon 
 mansion. On this account, Parsons had an opportunity 
 of noting the coming and going of Munson to Mr. 
 Rowdon s; but, being acquainted with none of the lady 
 members of the family, the visits of Munson to their 
 home gave him, when observed at all, no more 
 concern than the meeting of that gentleman on the 
 high-way.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 167 
 
 In a comparatively short career as a preceptor, 
 Parsons bad met with considerable success. An inten 
 sified desire to climb higher in the scale of usefulness 
 as an educator, tended to close his ears to the gossip 
 and chit-chat of the district wherein he had located. 
 He had entered a new field, and as an earnest worker 
 in his profession he was disposed, in a large measure, 
 to close his ears to any and ever sort of neighborhood 
 talk which he knew was generally chaffy, and in no 
 way, of interest to him. From this fact, the floating 
 rumor in regard to the expected nuptials of Miss Lunata 
 Rowdon and Aurelius Munson had failed to attract his 
 attention. If the report which was generally circulated 
 had been called to his attention, he might perhaps 
 have been able to remember that something of the kind 
 had come to him, through some source, now forgotten; 
 thus showing how \ery little interest he had taken in 
 the neighborhood gossip. If questioned, in regard to 
 certain suspicious indications in regard to Miss 
 Rowdon, as evidenced by the frequency with which a 
 certain gentleman s horse was hitched in front of Mr. 
 Rowdon s home, he would probably have stated that 
 on divers occasions he had seen a certain kind of horse 
 hitched at the place mentioned, but that he had never 
 thought of any suspicion being engendered thereby, 
 not knowing but that the owner of the house was 
 likewise the owner of the horse. 
 
 If told that his ignorance of what was going on 
 immediately about him, was not very complimentary 
 to his keenness of perception, he would no doubt have 
 retorted by declaring himself too full of business of 
 his own, to justify his putting his fingers into the 
 business of other people that Miss Rowdon was a
 
 168 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 stranger to him, and that he did not suppose she wanted 
 to employ him as a pilot to help manage the rudder of 
 her craft. In addition he would have put in as 
 a plea of justification for his want of interest in 
 anything, wherein a certain little deity was trying his 
 hand as a marksman at a human heart, that he was 
 himself carrying some wounds, but recently received 
 from just such a source, and therefore did not care to 
 invade, even by inquiry, the domain of the little meddler, 
 who had wounded him and then went bounding away, 
 leaving him with a wound for time to cure. 
 
 Having been engaged in teaching for a month or two 
 in the new district, it was but natural that a young 
 man of Parsons fine attainments fine social qualities, 
 and fine personal appearance as well, should have had 
 some ambition to widen the circle of his acquaintance, 
 by seeking to know the people among whom he was 
 living. It is true the ordeal through which he had so 
 recently passed had made him feel just a little misan 
 thropic ; still his philosophy of life suggested that 
 nursing grief did not bring relief, and for that reason, 
 as well as for the reason that he considered it polite to 
 bring himself into more intimate relationship with 
 those in whose midst he had found a home, he sought 
 to know them better. 
 
 In the new associations into which Parsons entered, 
 and among the new friends whom he, from time to 
 time, added to his list, he could occasionally hear 
 some remark made in regard to the approaching mar 
 riage of Miss Rowdon and Mr. Munson, but John was 
 naturally still-tongued about j^ny and everything that 
 he thought ought not to be made a matter of common 
 talk, and would therefore listen to what was reported
 
 WHAT NEXT? 169 
 
 as being the general talk of the neighborhood busy- 
 bodies, but was never known to act as a news monger 
 by going into its retail trade. In addition to all this, 
 Parsons had a special, a private reason for his want of 
 interest in the Rowdon affair, which he did not care to 
 disclose to any one a reason which if it had not been 
 founded upon a mistake, would have been sufficient to 
 have justified his perfect indifference in regard to 
 anything that was told him about Miss Lunata Rowdon. 
 
 Notwithstanding the perfect indifference with which 
 Parsons listened to the various rumors which occasion 
 ally greeted his ears, the very force of his surroundings 
 made him, after all, an interested participant in what 
 everybody in that immediate vicinity seemed to be 
 interested, and he too soon began to think that where 
 there was so much smoke there must be some fire." 
 His suspicions were aroused, and the standing of the 
 same horse, hitched to the same rack, wearing the 
 same saddle and occupying the same place three or 
 or four evenings in every week began now to 
 attract his attention. Hitherto no attention had been 
 paid to the horse or to the frequency with which he 
 had been hitched to the same rack. At no time before 
 the birth of his interest could he have given legal 
 testimony in regard to the kind or color of the horse, 
 nor could he have ventured upon a description of the 
 saddle. He had, until now, been a perfectly indifferent 
 spectator as to any movements a certain horseman had 
 been making in coming to and going from the Rowdon 
 mansion. 
 
 It is strange how little it sometimes takes to work a 
 complete revolution in human purposes. Yesterday, 
 as it w r ere, John Parsons was the most uninterested
 
 170 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 person in the whole section of country as to the issue 
 of Munson s courtship. Today he has had awakened 
 a desire to know whether the frequent coining and 
 going of the young bachelor is to eventuate in success 
 or defeat. Yesterday he was wholly oblivious as to 
 what was being discussed in regard to the final issue of 
 Munson s suit. Today he is a specially earnest listener 
 to every character of information that may be afloat in 
 relation to the condition of two people whom 
 common rumor reports to be suffering from the same 
 malady. 
 
 There were conflicting reports in the various house 
 holds of the country as to just how the matter between 
 Miss Rowdon and Munson stood, and each report 
 claimed to be based upon the very best creditable 
 testimony. Parsons listened to those reports and formed 
 his own opinion without making known what that 
 opinion was. Possibly some little insight into his 
 history might have furnished a clue as to what his 
 opinion was. John made no comments nor did he 
 venture upon a reconcilement of the conflicting reports. 
 He knew about the frequency of the horse-hitching at 
 Mr. Rowdon s and of that fact took no notice until by 
 some development or outward show the impression 
 seemed to have been created that Munson s craft had 
 run into turbulent sea and upon threatening breakers, 
 after having had some very boisterous sailing for quite 
 a number of weeks. But to all the talk and clatter as 
 to whether Munson would be able to pull himself 
 through his trouble or not, Parsons was not interested. 
 He was neither partial to his success, nor yet interested 
 in the welfare of the 3 oung lady sufficiently to wish 
 the outcome might be in harmony with her desire.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 17 i 
 
 Parsons may, perhaps, have had some real, of sup 
 posed reason for being so whollj indifferent. 
 
 Shortly after Parsons had gone into the new locality 
 he learned through what he considered a reliable 
 source that Miss Lunata Rowdon had formed a very 
 unfavorable opinion of him that she was prejudiced 
 against him, and that her prejudice grew out of what 
 she thought was unjust treatment of the teacher who 
 had preceded him. She was of the opinion that he had, 
 by some undue means, supplanted the Yankee 
 teacher, and according to her well settled ideas of 
 justice, his action was, in the highest degree, repre 
 hensible. 
 
 Parsons, of course, knew that Miss Rowdon s con 
 demnation of him was unjust, and not knowing the 
 character of the mistreatment upon which she based 
 her charge of injustice, and not being acquainted 
 with the young lady, and thereby barred from making 
 any explanation, the matter rested just where it would 
 be sure to produce a determination upon the young 
 teacher, to stand aloof from the young lady, and in no 
 event seek to become acquainted with her, or be thrown 
 in her company. If, as he thought, her prejudice had 
 been created alone because of her belief that he had 
 sought to rob his predecessor of his position, she at least 
 he i ought to have sought to know the facts in 
 the case before forming her opinion. If she had 
 sought to know why he was in the position 
 he held, he, reasoned, she could have readily ob 
 tained all the facts from her father, and have 
 discovered that his superseding the teacher who pre 
 ceded him was not a matter of his seeking, but was 
 brought about by an application of the trustees, of whom
 
 172 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 her father was one, that he would accept the position, 
 and that he had absolutely refused an offer from the 
 same board of trustees who wanted to employ him the 
 year previous. 
 
 Miss Rowdon, as Parsons had been informed, was a 
 young lady whose sense of well defined justice was 
 one of her commendatory characteristics, and although 
 he was satisfied that she was laboring under a mistake, 
 which, when corrected, would have her recant any 
 adverse criticism which she might have made concern 
 ing him, he could not, under the surroundings, see any 
 way of correcting her error. 
 
 The severity of Miss Rowdon s criticism Parsona^vas 
 satisfied did not grow out of the fact that she had any 
 previous grievance against him, inasmuch as she had 
 no personal acquaintance with him. She knew the 
 preceptor when she saw him, but nothing more. Her 
 idea, as before expressed, and now repeated for emphasis, 
 was that he had sought the situation, ousted the 
 Eastern incumbent, and thus wronged an innocent 
 man. By and by some one informed the young lady 
 of her mistake, and when she became apprised of the 
 facts and learned that instead of Parsons having 
 sought the situation, the situation had sought him, 
 her sense of injured justice was appeased, and not 
 knowing that her accusation had become known to any 
 one except to one or two of her intimates, no correc 
 tion came to Parsons ears, and hence he remained piqued 
 over her charge. 
 
 The even tenor of his way was pursued by the young 
 teacher. He took no special interest in what was to 
 be the out-come of the now romantic affair which was 
 being wrought out in the Rowdon home. But,
 
 WHAT NEXT? 173 
 
 while he exhibited no interest in an affair which had 
 become one about which there was so much speculation, 
 he did not, by any means, close his ears to the prating 
 and speculating concerning the coming marriage, nor 
 close his eyes to the fact that the same horse was seen 
 several days in every week hitched to the rack in front 
 of the Rowdon s, and with impatience, waiting for a 
 more impatient rider. 
 
 Weighing the circumstances that were connected 
 with the proposed Munson marriage, as they appeared 
 to Parsons ; he was led to believe that the reason there 
 were so many conflicting reports and antagonizing stories 
 in regard to it, came from the constantly affirmed 
 declaration by Miss Rowdon that she never intended, 
 come w r hat might, to tie herself to a man for whom she 
 had lost almost every semblance of respect ; while on 
 the other hand, Munson was constantly laboring to 
 create the impression that the prize was his. Coupling 
 these facts together, Parsons was just a little suspicious 
 that if the young lady was as plucky as she was 
 reputed to be, she would openly rebel against any 
 usurpation of power which might seek to make of her 
 a living sacrifice. 
 
 It had been reported, time and again, that Miss 
 Rowdon had put her best wits to work, in an effort to 
 extricate herself from her unpleasant environments. 
 Again this had been denied, and it had been strenu 
 ously declared that the reports of her dissatisfaction 
 with the attentions of Mr. Munson were all idle and 
 untrue. One person would assert that the jubilant 
 countenance which Munson wore, ?fter a very recent 
 visit to his lady-love, furnished unmistakable testimony 
 of an ease of conscience and the indwelling of an
 
 174 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 amount of hope, that would make incredulity ashamed. 
 Another person, equally confident, would assert that it 
 was only the love and respect Miss Rowdon had for her 
 father that led her to treat Munson with even cold and 
 distant courtesy. 
 
 Thus back and forth went the bandying of opinions, 
 about these contradictory statements until the very ears 
 of the people in the midst of whom these young people 
 lived, were surfeited with inconsistent and discordant 
 reports. 
 
 Parsons took no stock in any of these rumors. He 
 listened to them but made no comments. He did not 
 feel a sufficient amount of interest in Miss Rowdon 
 to venture an opinion in regard to where, or in whose 
 keeping she would finally land. "Miss Lunata may poss 
 ibly dislike Munson, for aught I know, but why should 
 I care," reasoned John Parsons; "she dislikes me as well, 
 and he and I are in the same boat, so far as that is 
 concerned. He has been handling the oars and trying 
 to land that craft for a long, long time. They have not 
 been in my hands, and of course never will be , 
 but, should I ever undertake to row the kind of craft 
 he has been trying to steer, I think the sea of uncer 
 tainty would be sooner crossed or my oars smashed 
 into tooth-picks." 
 
 The large business interests of Mr. Henry Rowdon 
 made it necessary for him occasionally to be away 
 from home for a night, and when such was the case, in 
 order that his children might be better protected, he 
 was in the habit of requesting some one or more of 
 the Watson family to come over and be company for 
 his children during his absence. The homes of the 
 two families were not more than half a mile apart,
 
 WHAT NEXT? 175 
 
 and whenever one of these periodic requests would 
 come from Mr. Rowdon it generally fell to the lot of 
 Miss Lena Watson and one of her grown brothers to 
 act as a body-guard for the children of the Rowdon 
 family during their father s absence. 
 
 Parsons had been engaged in the work of conducting 
 his new school for only a few weeks when some of the 
 younger sisters of Miss Lunata, who were attending his 
 school, extended to him, on several occasions, rather 
 pressing invitations to make their father s family a visit. 
 These invitations, as often as they were made, were 
 politely declined. At first one plea and then another 
 would be offered for their non-acceptance, studying, ^n 
 each case, to make the excuse given as plausible as 
 possible. The real reason for declining to accept the 
 invitation, was, however, studiously withheld. 
 
 Weeks added themselves into months, and still 
 although Parsons passed every day within a few rods 
 of the front of the Rowdon home, he had never made 
 its inmates a visit nor had he met Miss Lunata. 
 
 A good part of the first term of Parsons annual 
 session had passed, when, as he was making his way one 
 evening to his boarding-house, he met young Duncan 
 Watson, after having passed a few hundred yards 
 beyond the Rowdon home. When the two met, 
 Duncan first requested, and then insisted that Parsons 
 should face to the right-about and go with him and his 
 sister to spend the night with the Rowdons. Without 
 offering any special reason for not wishing to comply 
 with his request, Parsons simply asked to be excused 
 and passed on up the road. He had not proceeded far 
 when he met Miss Lena Watson on horseback. She had 
 chosen this method of making her way, rather than to
 
 176 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 accompany her brother, that thereby she might avoid 
 the dust on the roadway. Miss Lena, in turn, expressed 
 the desire to have Mr. Parsons accompany her and 
 make the Rowdons his first visit under her lead. She 
 claimed she believed herself capable of making a first- 
 class chaperon and offered to guarantee him a very 
 pleasant evening. 
 
 Parsons very politely declined the invitation of Miss 
 Lena also, and when she pressed her wish upon him, 
 he told her that he was in his every-day working attire, 
 and that such habiliments worn into the presence of a 
 strange young lady would not only be uncompli 
 mentary to her as a hostess, but would also show a 
 lack of gentility on his part. Miss Lena did not think 
 his excuse at all plausible, and still insisted on his 
 going back with her. She told him that even his 
 every day working attire was always so fastidiously 
 neat, that he need never offer that as an objection to 
 making an entry into any society. Besides, she told 
 him she thought it not at all improbable that when 
 Miss Lunata found that he had been grabbed up in the 
 highway, and brought into her presence without the 
 opportunity of even brushing his hair, she would not 
 be disposed to be severe in her criticism. She still 
 more strenuously insisted upon his going, and assured 
 him that he could not but be delighted with Miss 
 Lunata Rowdon. 
 
 Hitherto, whenever the name of Miss Rowdon had 
 been mentioned in his presence by Miss Watson, 
 Parsons had studiously avoided even intimating that 
 anything had ever been said by Miss Lunata, which 
 was in any way offensive to him. But the time had 
 come, he thought, and that he might offer a reason
 
 WHAT NEXT? 177 
 
 that would be satisfactory to Miss Lena for declining to 
 accompany her as she had requested, he carefully 
 explained that his persistent refusal to comply 
 with her request was in consequence of some very 
 severe strictures in which Miss Rowdon had indulged 
 with regard to himself, upon learning that he had been 
 employed to teach their neighborhood school. I will 
 not give you the remarks she is reported to have made, 
 nor will I indulge in any expression of censure because 
 of what she said. It is sufficient for my present pur 
 pose that you know her remarks were of such import 
 as to bar me from her presence, and this being true, I 
 am sure you will not further insist upon my making 
 the Rowdons a visit with you as my chaperon." 
 
 There was an expression of impatient eagerness in 
 the countenance of Miss Watson while Parsons was 
 running his last sentence to a close, and she at once 
 remarked that she had not before known that what 
 Lunata had said in regard to his supercedingthe former 
 teacher had reached his ears, and that she was more 
 than glad that the revelation had been made. It at 
 least furnished her, she said, with an opportunity of 
 disabusing his mind in regard to Miss Rowdon s dis 
 liking him. 
 
 In a conversation which Miss Watson stated she had 
 recently had with Miss Rowdon, the latter had 
 remarked with some earnestness and a little show of 
 feeling, just why she had indulged in the words of 
 censure which had escaped her lips. Having discov 
 ered that she had made a mistake, she said she would 
 have been glad to have taken back all she had said, 
 and to have apologized for her suspicions, could she 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 12.
 
 178 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 have done so. Miss Watson further remarked that the 
 young lady had made a full and complete disavowal of 
 any intention whatever of doing injustice to the object 
 of her criticism, or of treasuring any ill feeling towards 
 him. She stated that no one could have more regret than 
 she, that under a mistaken impression she should have 
 dropped any remark which was unjust to Mr. Parsons. 
 While what she said, in the way of censure, was not 
 intended to be considered a secret, to be kept from his 
 ears, but rather intended as an animadversion upon 
 the conduct of the trustees of the school, some one 
 had carried her censure to his ears, and he had become 
 offended. 
 
 That her supposition in regard to the effect her 
 remarks had made upon the young teacher was correct, 
 she thought was amply proven by his apparent aliena 
 tion from her family, and probable dislike to her. Her 
 3 ounger sisters, she stated, who seemed to have become 
 very fond of you as a preceptor, had often invited 
 you to make their family a visit, only to have their 
 invitations politely declined. 
 
 Under the circumstances, and with the avowment 
 which Miss Rowdon had made, Miss Watson told 
 Parsons she thought it would be injustice to the young 
 lady as well as to himself, to any longer cherish a 
 spark of dislike to one possessing as much to love, as 
 does Miss Lunata Rowdon. 
 
 Miss Watson again urged an acquiscence with her 
 request, insisting that an acquaintance with the young 
 lady an evening of real enjoyment in her company 
 a night s rest under the Rowdon roof, would com 
 pensate for the trouble he had experienced over a 
 misinterpretation of what he had done.
 
 WHAT NEXT? 179 
 
 Reflecting over the matter but for a moment, and 
 turning the repeated avowment over in his mind, he 
 determined that no young lady should lay the sin of 
 injustice at his door without his making a manly effort 
 to remove it, and he so informed Miss Watson. With 
 an about-face he indicated his readiness to accompany 
 her, and the two started for the Rowdon mansion. 
 
 As Parsons walked along by the side of the pony 
 upon which Miss Watson was riding, he fell into a 
 momentary revery, and in that moment there came 
 crowding through his memory the incidents of the year 
 just passed, and with the passing of which there were 
 some stirring incidents that had occurred in his own 
 history, and some strange speculations with regard to 
 what was transpiring in the life of the young lady he 
 was so soon to meet. 
 
 When the stiles in front of the house had been 
 reached and Parsons had assisted Miss Watson to 
 alight, the two approached the house, and when the 
 veranda had been reached Miss Watson stepped to the 
 door and knocked. Inst ead of a servants responding, a 
 young lady, in the bloom of beautiful womanhood, open 
 ed the door; and after greeting Miss Watson with one of 
 the brighest of faces and sweetest of smiles, she 
 received an introduction to Mr. Parsons. 
 
 As the young lady stood in the door for a moment, a 
 rapid glance was all that could be obtained of that 
 picture. John s mind, however, was an active one; 
 and, unlocking the store house of memory, he therein 
 quickly hung in its most sacred cloister, a mental 
 photograph of Miss Lunata Rowdon as she then and 
 there appeared. As the young lady thus stood, she 
 impressed Parsons as being an unusually handsome
 
 180 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 young lady. She was dressed in her home attire 
 well-fitting and faultlessly neat. The snowy whiteness 
 of a short apron she wore, John considered an ornament 
 which attested the worth of the young lady in filling 
 the position which she held; while the keys at her side 
 bespoke her at once the queen regent of the pantry no 
 less than the parlor. 
 
 The visitors were invited into the library, and upon 
 being seated, Miss Lunata apologized, amid her blushes,, 
 for her appearance, stating that "she was expecting 
 Miss Lena, but did not think of her bringing with her 
 one who, though a stranger, ought hardh* to be con 
 sidered such. Had I been apprised just a little sooner 
 of your coming, Prof. Parsons, I would have made some 
 further appeal to my wardrobe." 
 
 "Indeed, I cannot claim any advantage of you," 
 said Parsons, "for I, too, am here, in no holiday dress. 
 I met Miss Watson on my way from school, and she 
 insisted upon my returning with her to make you a visit. 
 She would not listen to my seeking to be excused, upon 
 the ground of not being sufficient!} 7 well dressed to 
 make my appearance in the presence of strangers, nor 
 would she listen to my plea, that my uncomely attire 
 was a sufficient reason for declining her invitation. So 
 we are, I suppose, in this particular, upon an equal 
 footing, and I therefore move you, Miss Rowdon, that 
 apologies be declared out of order." 
 
 "As to my being a stranger, with the doubtful 
 imputation which you append, you will allow me to 
 state further, that while you may be right in your half- 
 concealed allusion[to my want of sociability, now, that 
 the ice has been broken, and the coast cleared of 
 seeming obstruction, with your permission, I will try
 
 WHAT NEXT? 181 
 
 to make amends for past indifference and apparent 
 neglect. Allow me, therefore, please, the privilege of 
 recording myself as not only an acquaintance, but as 
 one among your numerous friends." 
 
 "You have my permission to be so recorded, Mr. 
 Parsons," said Miss Lunata, "and on my own account, 
 I am disposed to regret that you should have post 
 poned to so late a date your petition to be allowed a 
 privilege which, as an act of kindness, I could not 
 have withheld." 
 
 "Had I known, Miss Rowdon. months ago what I 
 have learned only today through the kindness of your 
 considerate and enthusiastic friend, Miss Watson, I 
 would not now be left to deplore the loss of an addi 
 tional cup of joy of which cruel circumstances have 
 robbed me ever since I made my advent into your 
 locality." 
 
 "All is well that ends well, " said Miss Rowdon, 
 
 "and now that all clouds are removed that prevented 
 
 our seeing and knowing each other, as of right we 
 
 ought, I hope the pleasure of our future meetings will 
 
 not be marred by misunderstanding of any kind. I am 
 
 glad indeed to know you, Mr. Parsons glad to know 
 
 you are succeeding so satisfactorily with your school, 
 
 and am delighted with the impression my young 
 
 sisters seem to have of you as their teacher. There has 
 
 been so much dissatisfaction with those who have had 
 
 control of our school for the last year or two, that when 
 
 the session of one teacher would close, in some 
 
 anxiety I have been disposed to wonder What Next!" 
 
 There was something half startling in hearing Miss 
 
 Rowdon close up her well-rounded sentence with a half 
 
 asked question which, such as through almost every day
 
 182 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 of his recent life had been his watch-word. Why was this 
 so ? Could there be any interchange of the spiritual, 
 as between Miss Rowdon and himself? Had she 
 caught up and translated the thought that was in his 
 mind before[it could find utterance? Was there any 
 transmutation of soul essence whereby what was in the 
 sanctum-sanctorum of her own being answered to that 
 which was in his ? 
 
 Parsons was puzzled. There were numerous questions 
 which went trooping through his mind, but he essaj ed to 
 answer none of them. They had found a lodgment, 
 however, to be wrestled with in his quiet, meditative 
 hours. 
 
 Not willing to appear to a disadvantage by seeming 
 inattention to her question, he jocularly remarked that 
 he -supposed an answer to her "What Next" might be 
 found in the supposed approaching nuptials of some 
 of the young people in that part of the county. He 
 remarked that the field, as he viewed it, was a fair 
 one, and why some of the handsome girls of the 
 neighborhood did not invoke the aid of Venus as 
 priestess to Hymen s altar, was something he could not 
 understand. Nor could he understand why some of 
 the handsome and sprightly young ladies in the vicinity 
 did not capture and hold some of the nice 3 T oung men 
 in a love-thrall. It is more than I can fully account 
 for, why Mercury, that prince of mythological thieves, 
 does not take some of these young men under private 
 training and teach them how to steal a wife, provided 
 one can not be obtained otherwise." 
 
 "You seem to be quite well posted, Mr. Parsons, 
 upon the subject of matrimony, or at least upon the 
 method of securing a spouse. Perhaps you might give
 
 WHAT XEXT? 183 
 
 us some edifying answer as to the reason why you have 
 so far escaped the noose you know so much about 
 putting upon others," said Miss Lunata. 
 
 "My reasons, Miss Lunata, for not entering upon 
 the sacred relations referred to are potent, and two 
 fold. In the first place, I am over young to marry 
 yet, as the song goes. In the second place, I think it 
 would be exceedingly difficult to find a young lady 
 with sufficient pluck to start with me up the hill of 
 matrimonial life, with nothing to aid me up its steeps 
 and over its crags except a willing heart a confiding 
 trust in ultimate success a large share of pluck and 
 energy, and a will that can brook defeat and rise 
 superior to ill luck. Such a woman would hardly 
 want to start out upon a matrimonial venture with so 
 much room for experiment," said Parsons. "Any woman 
 who was equipped with all these qualifications would 
 deserve something better than an outlook for experi 
 ment only." 
 
 Miss Watson here entered into the colloquy, and 
 taking the rejoinder from the hands of Miss Rowdon, 
 remarked that "such an equipment for a matrimo 
 nial journey as his inventory called for, would at least 
 be compounded of a larger share of poetry than of 
 prose." 
 
 "True," said Parsons," and I presume equally true, 
 that the poetry of life is not as good for a constant 
 diet as is the prose. For this reason, I would be ex 
 ceedingly careful in offering to any young lady only 
 the poetry of a married life. Life-poetry is an essential 
 element in giving true color, finish and beauty to the 
 prose of human existence, and while no one, nor yet 
 all of these ornaments can be relied upon as a basis for
 
 184 WHAT NEXT? 
 
 happiness, they are at least the garniture the orna 
 mental trappings the esthetic that lives in the 
 human soul." 
 
 " I think your philosophy in regard to living in 
 a gross sense, and living by contrast in a double sense, 
 in which the gross is the absolutely essential or basic 
 principle of human existence is correct. At the same 
 time the finer attributes of the human soul constitute 
 the poetry and music thereof." 
 
 At this juncture supper was announced, and the 
 party repaired to the dining apartment, where they 
 partook of a most excellent repast, the cuisine being a 
 work of art, in which the cooks of the Rowdon home 
 were par excellence. 
 
 The adorning feature of the dining ceremony, how 
 ever, was the grace, elegance and dignitj with which 
 Miss Lunata Rowdon presided in that department. No 
 wonder, thought Parsons, that the horse of Aurelius 
 Munson should be seen hitched so many days in the 
 year, and so manj 7 hours during these days in front of 
 Mr. Rowdon s home. Parsons turned apologist for 
 Munson, and was inclined to justify him for his per 
 sistent horse hitching in front of the house where his 
 heart found some comfort, although the house was not 
 over-freighted with devotion for either Mr. Munson or 
 his affections. The prize is certainly worth the 
 winning, thought Parsons. The throw of the dice that 
 gains the hand of Lunata Rowdon will place in the 
 keeping of the winner a prize of inestimable value a 
 gem that wealth could not buy. Munson knows this, 
 and knowing it, plays his hand with a persistency that 
 shows the pluck and determination of the man. 
 Who blames him if Miss Lunata does not ?
 
 WHAT NEXT? 185 
 
 Such was a part of the mental soliloquy that ran 
 through the mind of Parsons as he sat at the bountiful 
 board over which Miss Rowdon presided. 
 
 After the supper had been enjoyed to the full extent 
 Miss Lunata and her guests repaired to the parlor, and a 
 most delightful evening was spent in conversation by 
 the trio. In this evening talk, as is generally the case 
 under such circumstances, everything was canvassed 
 that was being talked of in the whole region, and not 
 till the clock indicated that there was an infringe 
 ment being made upon the hours of rest did the lively 
 conversation cease. A servant was then summoned, 
 ivho lighted Mr. Parsons and Mr. Watson to a room in 
 which to rest for the night. Watson slept like a trout, 
 but the dreams of Parsons were disturbed. A vision 
 of brightness and beauty danced in Tantalian vexation 
 before him alluring him with its loveliness, but keep 
 ing ever without his -reach. 
 
 On the following morning Miss Watson announced 
 her intention to Mr. Parsons of spending the day with 
 Miss Lunata. It was Saturday, and being a day of 
 rest for Parsons, Miss Lena insisted upon his spending 
 a part of the da}* with them. This suggestion Miss 
 Lunata seconded, saj ing it would be very pleasant to 
 her to have him spend as much of the day as he felt 
 disposed to devote to their company. Besides, she 
 told him that she knew of no better way, nor any 
 better time, to make amends for depriving her for so 
 long, of the pleasure of his acquaintance. Parsons 
 having accepted the invitation so pleasantly and grace 
 fully extended, bade the young ladies a court!} adieu 
 lor tlie morning, promising to return in the afternoon.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 "To say he lov cl 
 
 Was to affirm what oft his eyes avouch d 
 What many an action testified and yet, 
 What wanted confirmation of his tongue " 
 
 Knowls. 
 
 |N the "days lang syne" there was an open-handed 
 < hospitality which was a distinguishing feature of the 
 
 I people of Kentucky. The hospitality then exhibited 
 gave to the enjoyment of society a zest and unstilted 
 freedom which warmed the heart of every visitor. The 
 cold formality of the present fashionable world had not 
 made, in that far-away time, its chilly and murderous 
 onslaught upon the good breeding of a fine citizenship 
 to such an extent as to rob life of one half its real 
 delights. Heart- warm friendships in those days wore 
 no strait-jackets. Conviviality was indulged in which 
 was neither boisterous nor quakerish. Hand-shaking 
 was not a soulless show, but indicated that a heart was 
 in proximity to this act of palmistry that even if there 
 were no divination in the performance, there was, at least, 
 no fashionable frigidity. Fops as well as fools seem 
 to have flourished in the days of our grand-fathers, but 
 the dude had not made his entree in their time. He is 
 the product of a much later day the development of a 
 more recent civilization. 
 
 *; Mr. Rowdon s family was reared in the midst of the 
 greatest abundance of everything that could contribute 
 to their comfort, but his children were taught lessons of 
 frugality, while in the midst of affluence. 
 
 On the occasion of Mr. Parsons recent visit there 
 was no special effort made at display in any particular. 
 Although Parsons considered the cuisine so very good, the
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 187 
 
 fare, while he tarried with the family, was scarcely any 
 more elaborate than would be found upon that table, and 
 in which the passing stranger, who called just at meal 
 time, would have been invited to participate in. While 
 Parsons was well satisfied with what was spread before 
 him to eat, he was better satisfied with her who 
 made each meal more relished by her presence, and 
 who had been so great a personal contributor to his en 
 joyment. Even when his visit had been finished and 
 he was bowing himself out of her presence he felt that 
 the time of his stay had been far too short, and there 
 fore reluctantly bade the young ladies adieu. 
 
 Enthusiastic admiration for anything with which John 
 Parsons was well pleased, was a feature of his charac 
 ter, and for that reason it was only a peculiarity of his 
 that he should have been half sorry to be separated 
 from the young ladies for even a few hours, although he 
 knew that the acceptance of the dual invitation would 
 soon bring him again into their presence. 
 
 Upon leaving the young ladies in the forenoon, 
 Parsons went at once to his room in the Watson home. 
 Having seated himself in an easy study-chair, he fell 
 into a train of reflection which was a compound of 
 belief and speculation. How he longed for the gift of 
 prophetic vision sufficient to take a peep into the 
 curtained future. How he would have been pleased to 
 discover what the answer would be to her semi-question, 
 which came from her lips like an echo springing from the 
 depths of his own soul. The question, half audibly 
 pronounced by her, came with more potency than it 
 had ever had, when uttered by himself. The "What 
 Next" which she had whispered, and which had 
 aroused the anxiety of Parsons, was, as to whether
 
 188 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 that half articulated query had any connection, either 
 present or future, with the finality which was next to 
 be written as an end to Miss Lunata s maiden life. 
 
 Parsons had become a competent witness as to the 
 kind and color of the horse that made his frequent 
 periodic stops in front of the Rowdon place. Without 
 any studied effort, he could have given a description 
 of just how that horse was caparisoned. He had grown 
 to be a more interested spectator, and hence had 
 noticed carefully [that, which for a time, had failed to 
 attract his attention. 
 
 The horse had for so long a time, and frequently 
 made Mr. Rowdon s his halting place, that he began 
 to be recognized as an old time visitor. Passers-by 
 ceased to make any comments concerning Munson s 
 visits. Gossip suspended its querulous prophecies. 
 Curiosity hushed its suspicions, and there came a lull 
 in the discussions with reference to the ultimate out 
 come of Munson s uncompromising persistency in his 
 suit. 
 
 In the character of Parsons meditations, as unfolded 
 to a special friend, it was easy to discover, that while 
 the neighbors and acquaintances of the parties in 
 interest had grown indifferent to what all concluded 
 could end in but one way, Parsons was not altogether 
 satisfied with this almost universal verdict. Knowing 
 there was "many a slip twixt cup and lip," he became 
 a more interested onlooker than any of the wiseacres 
 who carried written verdicts in their hats. 
 
 As the result of John Parsons visit of the day before 
 there was aroused in his mind a soul-stirring war of 
 wild, unsettled, and conflicting emotions; and yet, had
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 189 
 
 he been told that Miss Lunata Rowdon had captured 
 him that his every act, while in her presence, and his 
 quiet, contemplative, and listless mood since leaving 
 her, could not be interpreted in any other light than 
 an indication of a heart ill at ease, he would have 
 made reply, by saying that it would be something to- 
 be wondered at, to find him either captured, or thrown 
 into a state of excitement over an affair in which he 
 could in no way become an interested participator. 
 "Pardon me, please," said he. "If this heart is inter 
 ested in the question to which you allude, it had just as- 
 well beat its tattoo, and retire from the further discussion 
 of this question. The young lady is as handsome as 
 Hebe, and might rightly discharge the duties of that 
 dignitary. But. even were I to confess judgment when 
 accused of being captivated by so handsome and 
 graceful a woman, I would be pardonable for exhibit 
 ing the weakness of my sex in not resisting the 
 influence of a good and true woman. Upon the 
 person of the young lady in question, with all 
 her charms, there had been placed a mortgage, and 
 it is not, and cannot be made the province of my 
 hands to either lift or foreclose that mortgage." 
 
 But lightly as Parsons seemed disposed to treat the 
 subject of Munson s persistency in trying to create a 
 higher opinion, in the mind of Miss Rowdon. of his 
 worth and depth of devotion lightly and cavalierly as 
 he treated the insinuation that he had become half 
 ensnared by the same web that had kept Munson 
 floundering around in uncertainty, he could not banish 
 the consideration of the question as to the ultimate issue 
 of the courtship between Aurelius and Miss Lunata. 
 The subject would not be banished at his bidding, for
 
 190 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 he had become impressed with the idea that there 
 must be something higher and holier between these 
 people than mere friendship. He knew that the young 
 lady had most resolutely declared to her most intimate 
 associates, that there was no other sentiment in her mind 
 towards Mr. Munson than friendship, and that even her 
 friendship for him was not the outgrowth of anything 
 attractive in the man, but rather to gratify a whim of 
 her father. But despite the oft repeated avowal in 
 which the young lady so stoutly maintained that she 
 was not, nor had ever been an admirer, much less a 
 lover of Munson, Parsons could not reconcile her 
 declarations with the length of time the young man 
 had been visiting her, through the greater part of which 
 time he had assumed to be her accepted suitor, nor 
 could he reconcile her statements with the fact that 
 the repeated assumption of those who professed to 
 have been informed in regard to how matters stood 
 between wooer and wooed, was that there certainly 
 existed a prospect of marriage between them. 
 
 Of all the young ladies whom Parsons had ever met, 
 no one of them had more favorably impressed him 
 as being an embodiment of artless candor than had 
 Miss Rowdon. There was, therefore, the witness of his own 
 judgment arrayed on the side of the young lady s truth 
 fulness in reference to the condition of her mind 
 tow r ards Munson. 
 
 Like cases which often come before courts of judi 
 cature, the evidence in the matter which Parsons was 
 investigating was conflicting a kind of labyrinthian 
 difficulty through which he could find no thread to 
 lead him. He was bewildered. One question settled
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 191 
 
 and he imagined his mind would be at ease. Alas ! 
 how very much he reckoned without his host. 
 
 Parsons had never been thrown in a company in 
 which Miss Rowdon was having the especial attention 
 of Mr. Munson. Had such an opportunity as this been 
 hitherto presented, his train of thoughts would have 
 been different. There would have been less disposition 
 on his part to wonder over the multiplied replies that 
 Miss Rowdon was accredited with giving to inquiries 
 about her visitor. 
 
 An assiduous student of human nature, Parsons had 
 given the study of physiognomy some careful attention. 
 He thought that a better understanding of what was dis 
 coverable in the human countenance, as a revelation of 
 the emotions of the soul, would aid him in shunning 
 such an unfortunate ending as was his recent, first and 
 unromantic love affair. He remembered that unfortu 
 nate awakening and realized the fact that he was 
 by no means proof against the potency of beauty by 
 no means fortified against the snares of female loveli 
 ness. He remembered that Miss Mary Lawson had 
 taught him an important lesson. He remembered, too, 
 with some degree of regret, that the purport of her lesson 
 was that he should practice more caution, more circum 
 spection in the future. 
 
 As a result of Parsons investigations in regard to 
 what might be discovered as the emotional in human 
 nature, he assumed that the soul had an unspoken 
 language which could not be counterfeited. Adepts, he 
 argued, might, in the use of a common vernacular 
 lead the over-confident into trouble into the meshes of 
 a net, woven in the! loom of hypocrisy, leaving a
 
 192 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 pining victim to lament his temerity, and in anguish 
 to doubt whether there was anything good in humanity 
 or not. 
 
 Rising superior to a want of confidence in his race, 
 Parsons believed the soul had the power of revealing 
 its excitements a language of looks a language that 
 with inarticulate brightness flashed in sparkling beauty 
 the sentiments of the soul s emotions a language 
 which excites admiration, awakens and calls to the 
 windows man s immortal nature, bidding it speak 
 through those eyes. Do the lips grow dumb in giving 
 expressions to a subdued and eloquent story of a heart 
 overladened by sentiment of love ? Let the bor 
 rowed expression that pervades the human face, and in 
 timorous silence looks a language it can not clothe in 
 words, be translated, and thereby learn the better to 
 understand something that defies deception. Why not ? 
 Do you doubt the language of the heart that lifts itself 
 to the eyes when sorrow broods about the soul? Do 
 you need words as the portraiture of a grief which lies 
 with its more than laden weight on the mind? 0, 
 no ! Words would 1 it be bankrupt in describing 
 many an antagonizing sorrow which soul-language so 
 readily portrays. 
 
 Such was the train of thoughts that was claiming a 
 place in Parsons mind, as memory rehearsed every 
 word, re-drew every act and recounted every expression 
 of Miss Rowdon during his visit of yesterday, and a 
 part of the day then passing. 
 
 "Oh!" said he, "if I could only see them once meet. 
 With a meeting occurring within the immediate range 
 of my observation, I am sure I could put to silence 
 my present wondering as to how matters stand between
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 193 
 
 Miss Rowdon and Munson. I could then determine 
 what reliability was to be placed in the floating rumors 
 that so obstinately contradict what the young lady 
 herself declares to be absolutely untrue." 
 
 "But why should I be making myself so especially 
 interested in the affairs of one with whom I have so 
 recently formed an acquaintance ?" said Parsons in his 
 continued soliloquy. "Aye, now I have it. She is 
 not only an acquaintance, but has allowed me the 
 privilege of putting her name in the calendar of my 
 very special female friends. Not only so, but when the 
 matter was named she seemed almost disposed to 
 suggest as much herself. But really I am half ashamed 
 to own that I am so susceptible to the charms of a 
 woman, as to be thus running off into a soliloquy from 
 which I cannot eliminate her picture. Of all I have 
 said, she seems to have been the beginning, middle and 
 end ; and, do what I could, I have not been able to 
 pull myself away from the remembrance of what 
 passed in my recent visit to Miss Rowdon. Is it possi 
 ble that the fates have conspired to lead me into 
 another hopeless entanglement ? Is it possible that I 
 am so very susceptible to the impressions of beauty 
 that I become a very child in its presence ? I will to 
 the right-about. I will |no longer sit here and in 
 imaginative angling be fishing for something that 
 never was intended to bite at my hook something 
 which perchance may already be booked for another s 
 basket. Hope may whisper, but cannot prophesy." 
 
 "Well, well, if I sit here musing over the evanescent 
 dreams of what is past, I will not be able to fulfill my 
 engagement for this afternoon. But hark ! There is 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 13.
 
 194 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 the bell for dinner, and I suppose I can quit the com 
 panionship of the muses long enough to go and answer 
 the present demands of my outer man for food." 
 
 After dinner Parsons went hack to his room and 
 began the operation of putting himself in better trim 
 for his promised afternoon visit to the two young ladies 
 in the Rowdon home. 
 
 Professor Parsons was by education somewhat dis 
 posed to be fastidious in his dress; and, as has been 
 previously stated, wore the very best of clothing, all of 
 which was made in the very latest style. 
 
 While making his toilet, Parsons mind was 
 far from being wholly engaged in equiping him 
 self for his entrance into the company to be 
 visited. He was wondering if some plan could not 
 be devised, whereby the secret which he was so 
 much interested in, could not be discovered. What 
 he wanted to know was problematic, and with its 
 uncertainty he was wrestling. He solved the problem 
 of dressing, but the more difficult and important mat 
 ter which was resting so heavily upon his mind he had 
 to carry with him unanswered. There was no solution 
 that brought with it satisfaction. 
 
 When John Parsons emerged from his room dressed, 
 cap a pie, in his holiday attire, he looked the very 
 impersonation of neatness. But, while his garb was in 
 no way objectionable, he felt he would carry into the 
 presence of the ladies the same annoying uncertainty 
 with which he had contended ever since his introduc 
 tion to Miss Rowdon. 
 
 Sauntering along the intervening distance between 
 his boarding house and the Rowdon mansion, Parsons 
 mind was actively at work. He had not proceeded
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 195 
 
 far, until he found he was making material for history, 
 the warp of which was a dark prophetic foreboding, and 
 the woof a beautiful and flowery future. What he brought 
 out was a strange and striking contrast, and what he 
 proposed to make out of such a queer combinatii n 
 none but himself could have divined. 
 
 Why such strange day-dreams should have been con 
 tinually haunting the mind of the young preceptor is 
 probably not so enigmatical as to defy solution. It is 
 barely possible that, like many other students, he was 
 disquieted because he had propounded a set of ques 
 tions to himself which defied his investigations. He 
 had possibly never owned, even to himself, that he was 
 canying a load of anxious suspense which had been 
 produced by a strong personal regard for Miss Rowdon, 
 but which regard was handicapped by the claims of her 
 long-time suitor. 
 
 Scrupulously honest, as was Parsons, had he brought 
 up a self-accusation of being in love with Miss Rowdon, 
 he would have appealed the question to his own heart, 
 and would have dared to say "Heart, be honest. 
 Tell me if the perturbed condition of my mind is 
 an indication of strong friendship, or am I in love ? 
 Answer, for I have most emphatically denied the soft 
 impeachment, and I would not be untrue to myself. In 
 explanation of the state of my feelings towards Miss 
 Rowdon, I am ready to admit that she has woven 
 about me a spell of enchantment such as I have never 
 heretofore known. Tell me, Heart, am I in love with 
 Miss Rowdon?" 
 
 Such was the degree of sympathy which was aroused 
 in the mind of Parsons when he first heard of her 
 strenuous declarations that she had not the slightest
 
 196 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 idea of ever becoming the wife of Munson ; and he 
 was bold enough to assert that if such were a fact, 
 some means ought to be devised to relieve her from an 
 embarassing persecution. It was this that excited his. 
 pity and made him her friend. 
 
 Upon reaching the home of Miss Rowdon she and 
 Miss Watson gave the visitor quite a cordial greeting, 
 and jocularly complimented him upon his metamor- 
 phorsed appearance. To this he responded in a like 
 vein, saying it did not necessarily follow that "fine 
 feathers made fine birds. 
 
 "Neatness is admirable," replied Miss Lunata. 
 "Indeed it is a moral virtue and has been commended 
 under the three divine dispensations. But, while this 
 is true, it is the mind with its superior excellency the 
 mind which is responsive to the demands of right that 
 makes the model man." 
 
 "True," said Parsons, "but in what school of 
 metaphysics have you studied, that has made it possi 
 ble for you to deliver so pithy a dissertation in such a 
 laconic style? Under w r hose instructions has your 
 pupilage been spent, that you are thus able in one 
 short sentence, to so nearly compass the whole duty of 
 man?" 
 
 "My instruction along this line has been derived 
 from two sources: reading and observation," said Miss 
 Lunata. "No private tutor has furnished me any 
 information as to what constitutes a true gentleman. 
 An insight into the private lives of some of our nation s 
 true nobility, as seen in the light of history, has been 
 one source from which my conclusion has been drawn. 
 Of course my opportunity for making observation 
 upon the life and character of men is exceedingly
 
 THE HOXEST THIEF. 197 
 
 limited. I have but very few male acquaintances 
 with whom I am sufficiently intimate to furnish me 
 any proof that my conclusions are correct. If, however, 
 I see a man who is persistent in putting himself in a 
 position to be criticised, I at once conclude that with 
 such a man there is a serious deficiency of what it 
 takes to make a model man." 
 
 "You seem to have been able to delineate one of the 
 greatest of human virtues. It therefore appears to me 
 that you would be exceedingly hard to please in your 
 selection of a partner with whom to undertake the 
 journey of married life," said Parsons. "The standard 
 of human merit which you have raised, I fear is so 
 high that you will not be able to find any one who 
 can come up to it. You would, I think, be disposed 
 to ask too much in the way of attractions not to 
 mention what you would require in the way of virtues, 
 ever to find any one answering the demands of your 
 standard." 
 
 "I do not think I would be unreasonable in my 
 demands, Mr. Parsons," replied Miss Rowdon. "When I 
 do marry, should such an occurrence ever transpire 
 with me, it will be to some one, you may rest assured, 
 who approximates my ideal some one into whose 
 face I can look with pride some one upon whose arm 
 I can lean with confidence and uncompromising trust 
 some one whose honor, honesty and devotion to 
 truth will, when known, be a passport to the circle of 
 genuinely worthy society, wherever our lots may be 
 cast. I would not want to wed a man who could be 
 captivated by the empty bawbles of gilded fashionable 
 society. On the contrary, I would prefer the society 
 and companionship of an intellectual man a man of
 
 198 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 letters, if you please. But, while I really admire such 
 accomplishments, I could not admire them unaccom 
 panied by a liberal share of common sense." 
 
 Well, well ! Miss Lunata ;" if the definition of 
 your ideal man has not been most elaborately given, I am 
 no part of a judge of human language. Your outlining of 
 your model man is graphic. Nothing, it seems to me, 
 could stand him out in bolder and more open relief than 
 your description. But the question again recurs. Where 
 will you find the man who will answer the require 
 ments you have submitted?" 
 
 "Has this country become so completely depleted of 
 its better men-material as to make the finding of such 
 qualities as I have mentioned a rarity among them ? 
 Have the ennobling characteristics which I have enum 
 erated so run down as to make their discovery a 
 triumph ? Have men grown less worth} than the} 7 
 were in the days of our grand-fathers ? I can not 
 think so. Good, honest, intelligent, and splendid 
 specimens of our race have not become extinct. They 
 abound in every part of the country, and I only hope 
 that from among the many, I may, some day, discover 
 one that will meet the standard of my ideal." 
 
 To this brief homily Parsons felt he wtfs hardly able 
 to make a suitable reply. That there was a large share 
 of good, sound philosophy in what she said, he was 
 willing to admit, but thought she was disposed to 
 over-estimate the sum of human virtues that would 
 be requisite to make for her a satisf} - ing life-companion, 
 and replied to what the young lady had said, by 
 reminding her of what he had already remarked in 
 regard to her ideal. 
 
 "You have outlined and defined what your model
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 199 
 
 man ought to be, Miss Rowdon," said Parsons, "and 
 I am still of the opinion that such a model would be 
 hard to find." 
 
 "Be it so," said Miss Rowdon. "But unless I can 
 find some one of whom I can be proud, and who will 
 be willing to indulge me in a sufficiency of selfishness to 
 demand that he be proud of me, I will devote myself 
 to the raising of chickens, the making of butter, and a 
 giving of my attention to the domestic duties which 
 are needed on my father s plantation." 
 
 "I can see no necessity whatever, Miss Rowdon, for 
 your making any sacrifice," said Parsons. "That so 
 fine a specimen of manhood as you seem to think 
 could alone appeal to your admiration, might be found, 
 is possible ; and, if found, I feel more than confident 
 that even upon a short acquaintance, he would find in 
 you much to admire, much to delight, and much of 
 which to be proud when you recognized him as a friend,"" 
 
 "You flatter me, Mr. Parsons," said Miss Rowdon. 
 
 "By no means," replied Parsons. "Your own 
 honest and unadorned candor, as I read your character, 
 would forbid that I use any word, sentence, or phrase, 
 in speaking of you, or to you, that does not convey the 
 sentiments of truthful frankness." 
 
 "It is your really sincere opinion then, is it, that 
 there is a bare possibility of my finding some one that 
 I could admire, because of the excellent traits of 
 character he possesses?" 
 
 "Pardon me please, Miss Rowdon, I did not presume 
 to think you expected to fall in love with traits of 
 character alone. The traits of character might catch 
 your attention, when they were fully known. I presume 
 the party, in the possession of such characteristics, must 
 be one who is at least passably well favored."
 
 200 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 "In regprd to your surmise upon the point you have 
 just named, Mr. Parsons, I do not consider you are 
 very far wrong. I hardly think I could admire a 
 homely man ; and yet when I use the word homely, I 
 am sure I cannot claim for it a specific meaning. 
 There is too great a variety of tastes to justify my 
 adhering to any particular pattern as a standard." 
 
 "Well, Miss Rowdon," said Parsons, "since you 
 have been kind enough to give me your ideal of the 
 mental and moral qualities, so all important in the 
 make up of your ideal man, would you object to giving 
 me your views of what would meet your requirement 
 as to the physical build and outward appearance ?" 
 
 " I do not know, Mr. Parsons, that I could offer a 
 valid excuse for not complying with your suggestion. 
 But, inasmuch as I might prove to be rather a poor 
 judge of statuary, as well as a poor expositor of 
 features, suppose you subject me to a course of 
 catechism upon such points as you desire, and thus 
 call into play my ideas of the aesthetic in physical 
 development." 
 
 "If this suits your idea of getting at a general descrip 
 tion, rather than undertaking to present a continuously 
 worded picture," said Parsons, " I may be able to 
 find out what kind of a man physically would please 
 you." 
 
 "Proceed, Mr. Parsons, and do not insist that my 
 answers shall be long. 80 word your questions as to 
 enable me to answer in monosyllables, as far as you 
 can." 
 
 " Well, to begin. How tall would your ideal require 
 a man must be, Miss Rowdon?"
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 201 
 
 "Somewhere between five feet and eight inches and 
 five feet and ten inches." 
 
 " About how much would you have him weigh ?" 
 
 " From one hundred and forty to one hundred and 
 .seventy-five pounds, and would have the weight well 
 distributed over a handsome form." 
 
 " Would you prefer auburn hair, Miss Rowdon?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " What color would you prefer the hair to be ?" 
 
 "Black." 
 
 " What color of eyes would you prefer?" 
 
 " A dark brown or black." 
 
 "As to the face have you a preference in regard to 
 the nose ?" 
 
 " I have." 
 
 "What is that preference ?" 
 
 "I would like a nose slightly Roman and not small, 
 as I regard the nose, to some extent, a mark of 
 character." 
 
 "This, I think, Miss Rowdon, is about all I need 
 ask. The questions you have answered have furnished 
 me with what I would be disposed to approve, as an 
 indication of good taste in regard to the physical man 
 whom you could admire." 
 
 "Is there not something you would like to add to the 
 picture my interrogatories have built, Miss Rowdon? 
 If there is, I am sure any voluntary contribution you 
 may make will be an embellishment which will point 
 to a higher degree af physical perfection." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Parsons, I do not know that what I may 
 say can be considered a finishing stroke, but I would 
 like to say that while my answers give only an outline 
 of the man whom I might admire, there are othe
 
 202 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 things besides form, height, weight and features that go 
 to make up a symmetrical and attractive personality. 
 A man might be all that your interrogating has called 
 from me and still be a very boor. Something else 
 besides flesh and blood is needed in the make up of 
 a true gentleman. Sprightliness, urbanity, ease of 
 manner, gracefulness, tidiness in dress, benevolence 
 and a temper that is held under the control of a sound 
 mind in a sound bod} , may finish what you began." 
 
 "Just as I assured you, Miss Rowdon; it needs a 
 woman s hand to garnish, brighten and beautify that 
 in which she has always been skilled. Amid the floral 
 offerings of spring, a beautiful woman appears to be the 
 queen of flowers, nor envies the blush of the rose, for 
 nature painted two in the beginning, each in Eden. 
 One grew upon a stem and one grew and parted, and 
 Eve s cheeks were roseate too." 
 
 "There must be a streak of poetry in your nature, 
 Mr. Parsons." 
 
 "Why do you think so, Miss Rowdon?" 
 
 "It is not always the poet that makes the best poetry. 
 There is often an expression that falls from the pen 
 that is prose from a want of metre, but poetry because 
 of its high reach of beauty. You understand what I 
 mean," said Miss Lunata. 
 
 "Possibly I do, Miss Rowdon, but if I have struck 
 one chord of poetry in my prose this afternoon , I must 
 crave your pardon, for really, I did not mean it." 
 
 "O, my! Why crave my pardon? Do you desire 
 to ignore the fact that you sometimes draw beautiful 
 pictures which would almost wake up the energies of a 
 dormant soul?"
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 203 
 
 "I said I understood you, Miss Rowdon, but I now 
 think I was mistaken. I imagined I had somehow 
 made a blunder which escaped 1113 notice, and for 
 which I craved pardon. I believe I now understand 
 you, and therefore offer you my thanks for your com 
 pliment." 
 
 The discussion of various questions, one seeming to 
 be suggested by another, and consequently connected, 
 either immediately or remotely with each other, consti 
 tuted a kind of running, half-argumentative conversation 
 during the better half of the afternoon. 
 
 At length there came a lull in what had been a 
 pleasant and animated evening pastime, and Parsons, 
 concluding that an acquaintance of so short a duration 
 would hardly warrant a longer stay ; after compliment 
 ing them very highly for the pleasant and exceedingly 
 delightful afternoon visit, bowed himself out of their 
 presence and was soon out of the reach of their vision, 
 but not out of the reach of their criticism. 
 
 Again left to his own musings, Parsons began a 
 recapitulation of all that had been said and done 
 during the time of his afternoon visit. The civilities 
 of the occasion had been exceedingly pleasant and he 
 felt that the remembrance thereof would ever be a 
 green spot in memory s waste. He decided that Miss 
 Lunata Rowdon was the most delightful woman he had 
 ever met, and that her keen, shrewd, ready wit, and 
 clear-sighted judgment he had never seen paralleled. 
 But the peculiar feature of her mental calibre, as he 
 viewed her, was her outspoken candor. He regarded 
 her as very bold in the maintenance of her views, in the 
 discussion of a mooted proposition, without the least 
 shadow of pedantry or show of the opinionist. In fact,
 
 204 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 he found in the young lady a child-like simplicity that 
 was truly an adornment. This he thought ought 
 necessarily to have been coupled with a large share of 
 credulty, but such he found was not true of her. 
 What she wanted to know, which was, in any way, to be 
 decided by proof, the testimony she demanded, 
 and when it was examined and weighed, she drew her 
 own conclusions. 
 
 Such was the train of thought that ran through the 
 mind of Parsons, as he sat in his room absorbed in 
 -deep and disquieted meditation. With the passing 
 of these thoughts, he seemed to grow disturbed, 
 nervous; and springing to his feet, began to walk back 
 and forth, across his room; and, as he walked, might 
 have been heard to say in undertones : Yes, I have 
 met her twice, and the result of the meetings has 
 impressed me with the belief that she is a -very superior 
 woman, but with that thought, comes the gloomy 
 reflection that with all her goodness all her generosity 
 of soul all her purity of character, and all her 
 superior worth in manj other particulars, she must 
 bestow the wealth of her affection upon some one else, 
 and not upon me. Did I say it ? Then why deny it 
 any longer ? I am in love with Lunata Rowdon. Will 
 the fates decree that mine shall be a hopeless love? I 
 fear it is so written in their books, and that I am again 
 doomed to see the prize I would like to win vanish 
 from the reach of Hope. But with stubborn resolve, I 
 will patiently wait. Now What Next?
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Our doubts are traitors, 
 
 And make us lose the good we oft might win, 
 By fearing to attempt," 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 /fITH Parsons departure from the Rowdon place,. 
 II as might have been expected, the two young 
 
 I I ladies had a general and lengthy interchange 
 ^Bsfl^^r^ 
 
 of opinions in regard to the visitor. Each 
 
 expressed herself without restraint, for there was no 
 one to utter a protest to the contrary. Each was per 
 fectly candid with the other, for the reason, that, as 
 far as Miss Lena Watson was concerned, she had seen 
 enough of Mr. Parsons, as a boarder in her home, to 
 form a definite opinion and to put herself upon record 
 as his friend. That he was a gentleman of the first 
 water, she had become assured before he had been an 
 inmate in their house for even a single week. His 
 gentility, his neatness, his affability, and his genuine 
 politeness .were worn by him as the child wears its 
 medal of award, and always indicated that as a gen 
 tleman he rated above par. 
 
 When it came to Miss Rowdon s turn to express her 
 first item of criticism, she was ready to admit that her 
 opportunities for forming an opinion of the j r oung man 
 had not, by any means, been so good as had been Miss 
 Lena s, but that, while she would not like to be con 
 sidered opinionated, she did believe she was able ta 
 form a correct opinion of the general or characteristic 
 features of a man s make-up, with even a limited 
 acquaintance. She believed the Divine fingers in the 
 main, wrote a legible hand, and that nothing was
 
 206 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 needed to comprehend His chirograph}-, except to 
 understand whether either accident or intention had 
 changed the impress of His sign-manual. 
 
 Looking Miss Watson squarely in the face, as though 
 she would thereby emphasize what she proposed 
 to further say, Miss Rowdon continued saying : 
 "Miss Lena, Prof. Parsons has a good face an expres 
 sive face a face which I interpret as indicative 
 of generosity in his nature, or being possessed 
 of a large share of the milk of human kindness. He has 
 a face, over which the light plaj r s with radiance when 
 superinduced by animated conversation. Ease in 
 manner, the use of chaste and elegant language, and 
 his fluency in the use of it, are manifestations of an 
 active and energetic mind. His freshness and clear 
 ness of complexion indicate a freedom from the 
 corroding effects of intemperance, and that he is a man 
 of regular and good habits. 
 
 I presume to guess that the sheltering care which his 
 early life received, together with his continued attend 
 ance upon his studies, up to the ver3 r eve of his 
 embarking upon his present professional work, saved 
 him from falling away into the vices which shipwreck 
 so many young men. If I interpret aright the spark 
 ling brightness of his black eyes, and the facial 
 pureness of his Anglo-American blood, there is in him 
 the attestation of a commendatory volume in favor of 
 pure living. His intellectuality is certainly self- 
 assertive. Of this I feel I can bear testimony after the 
 conversation which I held with him to day. Of all the 
 gentlemen I have ever met, I think I have crossed no 
 one who possesses more that is attractive than does 
 Prof. Parsons."
 
 T.iE HONEST THIEF. 207 
 
 Miss Watson, who had attentively listened to all 
 that Miss Rowdon had said, coincided with her exactly, 
 and while she thought Lunata s description was pitched 
 upon quite a high key, she nevertheless declared her 
 sketching of his character was true to life. "There is 
 one thing, Lunata," remarked Lena, "of which I am 
 a better witness than yourself, and which I feel like 
 adding as a finishing stroke to the picture you have 
 already drawn. I believe I am more fully advised of 
 the truth of what I propose to say than any one else in 
 our community, from the fact of my matured acquaint 
 ance with him, and I think I can assure you, Lunata, 
 that he posseses some kind of attractiveness that has 
 won for him a way into the esteem and confidence, not 
 only of our family, but has so completely ingratiated 
 himself in the favor and effection of the school 
 children as to be considered by them a living oracle. 
 Nay, more ; his growing popularity has become a 
 subject of comment, for he seems, with a few 
 exceptions, to have laid siege to the favorable estimation 
 and good will of everybody in our community. Why 
 should it be otherwise?" said she. "He has shown 
 himself to be a pattern in everything worthy of 
 emulation a discreet and prudent teacher no part of 
 a meddler in other people s affairs no lender of help 
 to lift the common gossip of the neighborhood into 
 greater publicity. He attends strictly to his own 
 business, in his own quiet way. In fine, he has shown 
 himself to be a gentleman to the manor born, and 
 deserves universal esteem." 
 
 "Well, well, Lena !" said Lunata; "if I did not know 
 you as well as I do, I would certainly conclude from 
 your laudatory expressions, that you had met your
 
 208 WHAT NEXT? OB 
 
 ideal in Prof. Parsons, and, as a necessary consequence,, 
 had fallen most desperately in love with him. I 
 happen to know, how r ever, that your admiration can 
 be wonderfully excited over almost anything that you 
 regard as especially good. That you should therefore 
 grow a little enthusiastic in your admiration of so nice 
 a specimen of young manhood as is presented in the 
 person of Prof. Parsons is not a matter of surprise. 
 Your good opinion of the young teacher, situated as. 
 you are, would go a great way in helping me to form 
 an opinion of his moral and mental worth, and I am 
 glad that your estimation of his merit founded upon 
 more intimate association with him that I have had, 
 so nearly agrees with the opinion I have formed from 
 the very limited association which I have had in the 
 two visits which he has made to us jointly ; the 
 pleasure of which visits I must place to your credit. 
 Please accept my sincere thanks for your intervention 
 in removing a prejudice which I unwittingly created 
 against myself, and forgive my jest in regard to your 
 being in love with the young man, for I am sure you 
 could admire him without letting your heart go. No,, 
 no, Lena, I hardly think either of us would consent to- 
 admit that she was not heart-whole and fancy free." 
 
 While this animated colloquy was going on in the 
 Rowdon home, curious and insinuating questions were 
 forcing themselves upon the consideration of Parsons. 
 As he meditatively sat in his room, he deliberately yet 
 anxiously recapitulated what had transpired during his 
 visit just finished, and recalled everything, as far as he 
 could remember, that had been said during the con 
 versation with the young ladies. "When I do marry, 
 should such an occurrence ever transpire with me. *
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 209 
 
 "Yes, these were her identical words. What can they 
 mean ? Must they be interpreted as hanging a thicker 
 veil over the misunderstood frequency of that horse- 
 hitching in front of her father s house, or is it to be 
 paraphrased to mean that the veil, which has so long 
 challenged the suspicion of her neighbors, is on the 
 eve of being lifted, and the light turned in, on what 
 has been an uninterpreted enigma?" 
 
 "If such an occurrence ever transpire with me. 
 "How prophetic those words sounded," said Parsons. 
 "Is there no key to their meaning? Is there no way of 
 securing a revelation from her as to why she should 
 have used an expression that hangs a doubt over the 
 predictions of so many of her friends, and sets at 
 naught the intimations of her suitor, Aurelius Munson? 
 " I have no key I have no means of looking into the 
 mind of her whose lips uttered the sentence. By and 
 by, time the revealer of secrets, may show me why 
 the expression was used, and I will be compelled to 
 await her answer." 
 
 Several weeks passed before the pleasure of meeting 
 Miss Rowdon was again furnished young Parsons. In 
 the meantime, he had busied himself in the usual 
 routine of his daily work so completely that he had 
 allowed himself but little time to think of anything 
 else. Ever and anon, in the gloaming, after the rattle, 
 bustle and worry of the day had passed, he would find 
 himself weaving bright mind pictures, which in their 
 youth and beauty were important factors. la it at all 
 strange that his poetic fancy should have drawn no 
 sketch, in which the fair face of Miss Lunata Rowdon 
 did not, sooner or later, peep, and become a part of 
 his imagery? 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 14.
 
 210 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 Just before parting with the young ladies in his very 
 recent visit, Parsons suggested to Miss Rowdon that he 
 would be pleased, with her approval, to have an oppor 
 tunity of visiting her occasionally. To this suggestion 
 Miss Rowdon readily assented, and remarked that it 
 would give her pleasure to have him call at any time 
 he felt disposed to do so. 
 
 For reasons that he thought somewhat imperative, 
 Parsons did not do himself the pleasure of accepting 
 Miss Rowdon s permission to call upon her for several 
 weeks, although, had he followed the dictates of his 
 wishes, he would have let but little time intervene 
 between his visits. According to his computation of 
 the passing of the days since he made his visit to the 
 two young ladies, it seemed that an age had gone by. 
 A lover is a poor chronologist. 
 
 After two weeks had intervened since Parsons had 
 met Miss Rowdon, he was engaged in his usual Sat 
 urday s reading, in the quiet of his room, when word 
 was brought to him from Mrs. Watson, that Miss 
 Lunata Rowdon had called for a short visit, and that 
 it was desired to have him help entertain the young lady. 
 This was really a very agreeable surprise, and he 
 returned word to Mrs. Watson, that nothing could give 
 him more pleasure than to answer her demands, and 
 that he would be down in a few minutes. 
 
 While arranging his wardrobe preparatory to re-dress 
 ing himself, Parsons was in rather a perturbed state of 
 mind. He had about resolved upon making a direct 
 effort to draw Miss Rowdon out upon the question that 
 had been so long puzzling him, and wondered if the 
 opportune time had not arrived to put his resolution into 
 effect. "I will see," said he.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 211 
 
 Donning a neat suit and brushing himself up a bit, 
 he at once repaired to the drawing-room in which he 
 found Miss Lena Watson and Miss Lunata Rowdon 
 engaged in a spirited conversation. As Parsons enter 
 ed the room the young ladies arose and with kindly 
 mein and pleasurable expressions, gave him a very 
 cheerful salutation. 
 
 After a few commonplace compliments had been 
 exchanged, such as usually serve as a prelude to some 
 thing more interesting, each of the party was seated. 
 Almost immediately Miss Rowdon, with a mischievous 
 twinkle in her light blue eye, informed Mr. Parsons that 
 her present visit was one of business rather than pleasure, 
 although she hoped to get some pleasure out of her 
 business; and that, inasmuch as the present matter of 
 business was with him, she thought it would be well 
 to start in at once. By making a speedy beginning, 
 and by an expeditious style of transacting her work, she 
 said, she expected to gain some reputation as a young 
 lady of bargaining ability. 
 
 " I am at your mercy, Miss Rowdon," said Parsons. 
 
 "0, my! don t talk about mercy," said Miss Row 
 don. "I am not afreebooter. I am not on a pillaging 
 expedition. I do not purpose to abduct any one, nor 
 purloin anything. My intentions are not, in the least, 
 malevolent or naughty. My business is legitimate as 
 well as innocent." 
 
 "Of course I am unable to understand what purpose 
 you areaiming to accomplish," said Parsons. "Yours, 
 you say is a mission of business, and 3^et you fail to define 
 what kind of business you have undertaken to perform. 
 You state that the affair you have in hand makes me a 
 party to what you have purposed, and yet you fail to
 
 212 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 enlighten me as to how it is, or why it is, that I am 
 interested in something that immediately concerns 
 you." 
 
 "Really, Prof. Parsons, as one whose name has 
 been enrolled in the calendar of your special lady 
 friends, I suppose that almost anything in which I am 
 personally interested would become a matter of some 
 concern to you." 
 
 "True, Miss Rowdon, I am your friend, and am 
 willing to make any sacrifice within my power, if need be 
 in your behalf, that I may show my fidelity to my pledge 
 of friendship. Command my services. They are yours 
 if you need them. If you are here for the purpose of 
 exculpating yourself from the charge of dishonesty in 
 an affaire (hi ceur, I am ready to enter as your 
 attorney. If you are here to arraign some one party 
 on the charge of persecution, I believe you might rely 
 on all the power of what legal lore I have, to be used 
 in vindication of the justice of your charge. If you 
 are here under an arraignment for cruelty, I think you 
 may put me down on the side of the defense, for I 
 cannot believe you are capable of performing an act 
 of intentional cruelty, and I do not think an adverse 
 verdict could be obtained, unless malice could be 
 established as a prompter to what you had done. 
 Cruelty, I presume, is the charge upon which you are 
 to be tried?" 
 
 "I am by no means, an adept in the interpretation 
 of law," said the young lady, "but, tell me, am I in 
 error for supposing that an indictment must always 
 precede arraignment for trial, in criminal cases? By 
 whom therefore has the charge of cruelty been pre-
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 213 
 
 ferred ? Who were the witnesses ? Has the grand- 
 jury found an indictment ? Before what court am I to 
 be tried?" 
 
 "The parties who have originated the allegation of 
 cruelty are those who have suffered, as I suppose, from 
 an over amount of admiration for you, and for which ad 
 miration you have made no exchange in like comodity 
 those who claim to be laboring under heart-trouble, 
 because, of your fascinating charms, are forever barred 
 against approaching you." 
 
 "Just listen ! Lena Watson, to what Prof. Parsons is 
 saying. Accused of cruelty, am I ? Why is this, if it 
 is not because some one whose head is softer than his 
 heart, has formed a fancy for me ? Accused of cruelty 
 because, forsooth, some insidious flatterer has prated 
 about "fascinating charms." Nonsense ! I make 
 confession to nothing. My case has been tried long 
 ago, and, if informed in regard to all the circumstances 
 environing me, your court the court of your own 
 honest judgment must have rendered the decision, that 
 I have been more sinned against than sinning. This 
 is the honest verdict of my conscience, and I am sure 
 no one will dare to try to traverse the decision which I 
 have determined shall stand." 
 
 "Excuse me, Miss Rowdon. I see I have made a 
 mistake. What I said was spoken in jest. Under no 
 kind of persuasion could I have been induced, even in 
 a spirit of merriment, to make mention of anything 
 that would awaken in your mind unpleasant reminders. 
 Please forgive my inadvertent allusion to anything 
 unpleasant, and allow me again to assure you that it 
 was altogether foreign from any intention on my part 
 to say one word that would wound you, by bringing to 
 mind unpleasant associations."
 
 214 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 "I do not suppose," said Miss Rowdon, "you 
 would intentionally wound me. Indeed I know you 
 would not, and you need not have asked my 
 pardon for saying what was altogether innocent in 
 itself. My peculiar surroundings make me sensitive 
 or even nervous when my mind is brought to 
 bear upon the consideration of a question, which you 
 can not understand, and which delicacy and the regard 
 I have for paternal wishes forbids my explaining for 
 you. I may have shown myself to be a little excited, 
 as your remarks called up certain existing facts, but 
 quiet is now restored, and I am ready for the 
 prosecution of my matter of business with you." 
 
 Miss Lunata s face at once assumed its wonted 
 placidity, and over it there crept that expressson of 
 mirthful merriment which seemed, but a few moments 
 before, to have been chased away. 
 
 "To renew our talk upon business," said Miss 
 Rowdon, "you are fully aware, being yourself a Ken- 
 tuckian, what admiration Kentucky girls have for a 
 good and beautiful saddle-horse ; and the one you ride 
 is certainly the handsomest one in this part of the 
 country. Now, to business. Can I buy or trade you 
 out of him ? Any other praise I have to bestow upon 
 him, I had better defer until I have made my purchase, 
 provided you will sell him, lest my admiration 
 betoken a want of shrewdness as a trader. What say 
 you?" 
 
 "Really, 3 T our question is rather a hard one for me 
 to answer," quoth Parsons; "I am greatly attached to 
 my horse, and, like yourself, I am disposed to regard 
 him as the most stylish specimen of the equine race in 
 this section of the country. In fact, so highh- do I
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 215 
 
 prize him that as to putting a price on him in money. 
 I would not know how to begin. Possibly I might 
 trade him to you, provided I could do SjO advanta 
 geously. But to be candid with you, Miss Rowdon, I 
 have long thought that the lady who rode my horse, as 
 hers, would herself first have to be mine. Now if I submit 
 such terms to you, I fear your exalted opinion of my 
 noble steed would be materially lessened. What think 
 you of such a restriction?" 
 
 "I do not know that my opinion of either the horse 
 or the rider would be altered because the latter wanted 
 to drive a shrewd trade," said Miss Rowdon. "Sup 
 pose I were to assert that the proposed incumbrance 
 would enhance the yalue of the horse ; what would you 
 say to that?" 
 
 "I would be inclined to think, Miss Rowdon, that 
 you had pocketed a big joke and had come over to 
 Mr. Watson s to see what disposition you could make 
 of it." 
 
 "Indeed! Then what would you surmise, Prof. 
 Parsons, if I should agree to take both horse and rider 
 at a stipulated price ?" 
 
 "That Miss Rowdon would create rather more surprise 
 than surmise." 
 
 "This is not leap-year, Professor, but business is 
 business, as old man Plicks used to say, and I am 
 here to buy or trade for a horse, and if I cannot make 
 the purchase without taking the rider, he shall be 
 thrown in and considered my property without further 
 adjustment. How does that sound ?" 
 
 "Miss Rowdon, that sounds like a great big hoax, 
 which had been carefully labled: "NoMalice In 77d/.s." 
 But if you are really in undisguised earnestness, it
 
 216 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 looks like you and I might effect a trade. If I under 
 stand your proposition, it is this: You propose to buy 
 my horse, and yourself is to be the purchase price. In 
 other words, you are to become my property in 
 consideration of your coming into possession of my 
 horse. Well, it is said that a fair exchange is no 
 robbery ; but what will be the condition of the present 
 owner of the horse subsequent to the trade ?" 
 
 "Of course he will then belong to me," said Miss 
 Rowdon, "as by my proposition I am to take the 
 horse and all imcumbrances. This will, therefore, 
 transfer to my possession the horse, the rider and all 
 equipments of the horse." 
 
 "Under these stipulations, Miss Rowdon, what 
 requirements would be expected of the rider after the 
 conditions of the purchase had been complied with?" 
 
 "Well, all that would be expected or demanded of 
 him would be that he maintain unalterable loyalty 
 to me, incorruptable affection for me, and ever living 
 confidence in me as the new owner of the horse. Could 
 you comply with such conditions?" 
 
 "Well, well, well! Did anyone ever hear of such a 
 bargain ?" said Miss Lena Watson, who had been listen 
 ing to the tangled hank that Lunata and the Professor 
 had made in their efforts to effect a trade. "Really, 
 Lunata," said she, "You talk about trading with 
 Prof. Parsons in such a matter-of-fact style that I 
 almost feel like I had been made witness to a short, 
 but romantic courtship. If it were not lacking in what 
 are said to be the usual trimmings which must 
 necessarihy be connected with every incident of love 
 making; such as blushing, sighing, stammering and 
 manifested uneas-iness, I would be disposed to believe
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 217 
 
 there was more in this swapping arrangement than 
 mere honest coquetry. When the goods are delivered I 
 may change my opinion." 
 
 "When the time comes for the delivery of the 
 goods," said Parsons to Miss Watson, "you being the 
 only witness, I presume you will be called upon to see 
 that the stipulations of this contract are fully complied 
 with. To you, Miss Rowdon, will be left the designat 
 ing of the time when we both take possession of our 
 property, as per contract." 
 
 With this remark there seemed to be so much of the 
 solemn and pathetic in the voice and manner of 
 Parsons, that the young ladies could no longer 
 restrain their risabilities, and each broke forth in merry 
 peals of ringing laughter. 
 
 In the very midst of this outburst of merriment, 
 Miss Rowdon arose and signified her intention of leav 
 ing, remarking that it was not every day she had 
 an opportunitj 7 of spending a more pleasant hour, and 
 that she had never had the chance to rally Prof. Par 
 sons on his gallantry as she had done on that occasion. 
 She said, no harm, she hoped, would come of a little 
 innocent fun. such as she and the Professor had 
 indulged in, for she really held him in too high esteem 
 to wish him any other than good luck in whatever he 
 undertook ; then starting for the door, Parsons was at 
 once by her side. He accompanied her to the stiles, 
 and seeing her safely seated upon a rather spirited 
 horse, waved her a polite adieu as her horse cantered 
 away ; but he left not the spot, as long as she and her 
 cantering steed were in sight. 
 
 When Miss Rowdon s form had disappeared, the 
 young teacher turned himself about, and with a vision
 
 218 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 of beauty dancing through his mind, sought his room, 
 and throwing himself upon a divan, was at once engaged 
 again in trying to solve the old riddle. 
 
 There was not much, he thought, in the little bit of 
 pleasantry, in which he and the two young ladies had 
 indulged, that would shed any light upon the enigmati 
 cal problem, over which he had spent so much time. 
 But there was one thing of which he was convinced; 
 which, was that the oftener he met Miss Rowdon and 
 the more he saw of her, the more did he become inter 
 ested in the frequency with which he saw the horse of 
 Aurelius Munson hitched to the rack in front of the 
 Rowdon home. He resolved, however, to be wary, and 
 to exercise caution, notwithstanding what the recent 
 evidence seemed, more than ever, to indicate, by the 
 long and continued hitching of that same horse to the 
 same rack. He was afraid to venture along the line 
 of secret investigation, because of the clandestine 
 prophecies which were afloat, and the report that new 
 discoveries had been made, confirmatory of the fact 
 that something novel had actually happened ; for 
 Munson had certainly bespoke a new suit of fine and 
 fashionable clothing. 
 
 All that John Parsons had gathered, with reference 
 to the state of the courtship between Miss Rowdon 
 and Munson, was fully reviewed in an hour of quiet 
 meditation. He brought into revisal every interview 
 he had held with her from the time of his introduc 
 tion, to that in which he just assisted her to a seat 
 upon her horse, and anxiously watched her retreating 
 form till she was out of sight. He tried to recall 
 every sentence he had ever heard her repeat. He even 
 tried to bring back from memory s depository every
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 219 
 
 expression, every gesture and every pose, which, as 
 hers, had attracted his attention. From this array of 
 witnesses, as with closed eyes, he examined them, he 
 sought to extract an answer to a question which had 
 become an all-absorbing one to him. After wrestling 
 in mental anxiety, with the question until- he became 
 weary, without obtaining any satisfaction, he sprang 
 to his feet and said audibly "There is no other 
 alternative left ! There is no other plan to be 
 devised ! Why should I remain in bewilder 
 ing doubt any longer? I will go to Miss Lunata 
 herself. I will tell her, in a spirit of candor, 
 how long I have struggled with a question that has 
 ever defied my investigation. I will say to her that 
 she alone can answer the inquiry which has rested so 
 heavily upon my soul for weeks that she alone can 
 satisfy the disquiet which is mine, and which has, on 
 more occasions than one, risen to my lips, and clamored 
 for utterance. The pleasant and unrestrained inter 
 view between Miss Rowdon and myself to-day would 
 seem to warrant the exercise of a sufficient amount of 
 freedom to justify my asking her for a direct answer as 
 to her engagement with Aurelius Munson. If she con 
 siders the question a little too delicate to be propounded 
 by me, in view of our limited and comparatively short 
 acquaintance, I believe she will honestly say as much. 
 If there is nothing definite between them in regard to 
 the knowledge I would seek to obtain, I think she is 
 too honest, and too sincere to seek to deceive me, or 
 to withhold from me the information I want." 
 
 Thus John Parsons soliloquized and followed up his 
 soliloquy by a full and decisive resolve to unfold his 
 inquiry to the consideration of Miss Rowdon, the very 
 first opportunity that presented itself.
 
 220 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 In the interim, between the time that our young 
 Professor recorded this resolve, and the coming of the 
 time in which to carry out his purpose, he had ample 
 opportunity to fully mature the prudence and advisability 
 of the course he had decided upon. Looking at the matter 
 in every phase wherein he could bring his mind to 
 consider the proper thing to be done; the consideration of 
 the subject could not bring him to a re-utterance of 
 his resolve. He concluded there might possibly be an 
 exhibition of haste in presenting the young lady with a 
 question which delicacy might fully justify her in 
 declining to answer. But, even after the second view 
 of the situation had been taken, and the second resolve 
 had been fully approbated, Parsons still thought, in 
 view of the secret influence, and possibly unintentional 
 influence which Miss Rowdon was exercising over him, 
 there could be no possible impropriety in his asking 
 the question which had so long been a cause of 
 suspense and anxiety. To some opportune time, 
 therefore, the propounding of his question was 
 relegated. 
 
 While these matters were being discussed, pro and 
 con, by John Parsons, it was claimed by those who 
 pretended to have been on the inside, that affairs of a 
 very similar character were being eagerly and anxiously 
 examined by him whose horse, in heat and cold alike, 
 had so long, and so often, been a patient waiter upon 
 his master s protracted visits. It was evident, as some 
 claimed, that there were with Munson periodic returns of 
 uneasiness, and that these periods were designated 
 by the increased frequency of his visits to the Rowdons. 
 Why he should, at any time, have been disquieted, no 
 one knew except Miss Lunata, and, as misery loves
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 221 
 
 company, even if it be bad company, Parsons took 
 comfort in the reflection that he was not the only one 
 whom that young lady was holding in secret thrall. 
 
 With the emotions of the preceptor s manly nature so 
 deeply moved so severely tossed upon the sea of 
 uncertainty, it seems almost a wonder that he should 
 have been able to maintain such equanimity. Scarcely 
 less strange was it, that, under the circumstances, he 
 should have been able to carry forward with undeviat- 
 ing faithfulness his work in the school-room. This, 
 however, he did, and there was no one, within the 
 limits of his acquaintance, who suspected that the 
 heart of the young Professor had received an awakening 
 under some occult power of Miss Rowdon s especial 
 attractions. In fact, he kept his own counsels he did 
 his own thinking, and, neither from word nor look, did 
 he ever betray the fact that he was not at perfect 
 peace and undisturbed quietude with himself and the 
 rest of the world. 
 
 It has been discovered from Parsons own admission 
 that he was in love with Miss Lunata Rowdon, and 
 that he had not made any avowal to her of the 
 condition his mind was in. It was not timidity that 
 held in check the disclosure to the young lady of how 
 immeasurably strong was the attachment which had 
 found lodgment in his soul for her. It was not cowardice, 
 created by the unfortunate ending of his first heart- 
 entanglement, for he knew no widowed sister stood 
 behind the curtains to direct the thoughts and intentions 
 of Miss Lunata Rowdon. No, no ; his reason for not 
 going into the presence of the young lady and pouring 
 out his soul s devotion was simply because of his high 
 sense of honor. If there was an engagement between
 
 222 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 Munson and Miss Rowdon, Parsons thought it would be 
 a species of sacrilege to invade a territory in which had 
 been planted the flowers of expectation, and around 
 which votive offerings of constancy had been offered. 
 
 The youthful Professor went and came, day by day, 
 and even his most intimate friends discovered no 
 change in his demeanor. He wore the same calm 
 expression ; he deported himself with the same 
 dignified bearing ; he exhibited the same attractive 
 urbanity that had ever marked him as a high type of 
 the true gentleman. 
 
 But with all this show of deliberate self-possession, 
 there was a storm in the soul of Parsons that naught 
 could quell save the voice of Lunata Rowdon, in a 
 negative answer to the question he had resolved to 
 propound. Let this answer be made, and the storm on 
 Galilee was not sooner stilled under the mandate of 
 the Prince of Peace, than would the mental storm be 
 quieted that was rocking the craft which John Parsons 
 w?s trying to pilot. 
 
 The opportunity for again meeting Miss Rowdon by 
 Parsons, and to which he had so wistfully looked 
 forward came, in the by and by. There was a wedding to 
 be celebrated in the neighborhood, and Parsons had 
 been selected as the groom s best man, while among 
 the celebrants, Miss Rowdon s name was prominent on 
 the list. 
 
 It is but natural to suppose that the young Professor 
 looked forward to this event with no small degree of 
 anxiety, more especially so because he had determined, 
 if he found it possible, to set his mind at rest in regard 
 to the disturbing question, by discovering the relations
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 223 
 
 that existed between Miss Rowdon and Munson. And 
 with this, as a fixed determination, he thought it would 
 not be difficult to then give an answer to the question 
 What Next ?
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 "O if good heaven would be so much my friend! 
 To let my fate upon my choice depend, 
 All my remains of life with her I d spend, 
 And think mv stars had given a happv end." 
 
 Old ham. 
 
 1 HARDLY think it could be said of John Parsons 
 ! that he was any part of an egotist. Egotism is 
 impudent, supercilious, and domineering. When 
 personified, it wears a garment which covers a 
 multitude of faults of its own, but looks with disdain 
 and contempt upon the short-coming of others. 
 
 With these, as the attributes of egotism, it would 
 have been readily conceded by those who knew him, 
 that Parsons was too modest a man in his general 
 bearing to be considered opinionated. In his new 
 neighborhood, one of the most frequently mentioned 
 faults which he was said to have possessed, was his 
 reticence and over-amount of seclusiveness. But 
 while this was said of him, he was, in no sense what 
 ever, disposed to play the hermit ; on the contrary he 
 evinced a fondness for society, and at the proper time, 
 and under favorable circumstances, he not only sought 
 the pleasure of good society, but unostentatiously orna 
 mented it. 
 
 Professor Parsons, for such was the title which Miss 
 Rowdon was the first to impose, had been, ever since 
 the unforgotton ending of his first heart-disturbing love 
 affair, a most earnest and painstaking student of 
 psychology and physiognomy. His interested exami 
 nations of these sciences, had led him to the assump 
 tion, as has been before stated, that there were 
 expressions of the soul which the lips could not inter-
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 225 
 
 pret in words, and therefore could not counterfeit. He 
 maintained that it was a voiceless language eloquent 
 in its power of pathetic pleading solemn in its reve 
 lations of sorrow exuberant in its satisfaction over 
 the fullness of joy, and pain over a saddening disap 
 pointment. To the student, who had made himself 
 conversant with this voiceless and untongued symbol 
 ism of the soul, he averred could be deciphered some of 
 the sublimest emotions of woman s spiritual nature. 
 He assumed that their lips might essay to deal in 
 falsehood, but, unless schooled in perfidy and kindred 
 wickedness, there would mount from the soul mute 
 contradictions. Eyes, he claimed, were the windows 
 of spiritual natures, and, as these spirits peep from behind 
 and through their curtained caskets, fresh harbingers 
 from the school of untainted morals tell no lies. 
 
 This opinion he reiterated, because he was so soon to 
 make a test of his formulated conclusionsjin the examin 
 ation of Miss Rowdon upon a question of absorbing 
 interest to him. He had studied, as far as was in his 
 power, the essential characteristics of the young lady. 
 The conclusion, from his investigations, was, that 
 she was the soul of honor and the embodiment of 
 honesty. But, despite the decision to which he had 
 arrived, he felt it would be well to have security 
 doubly secure by making an application of his new 
 study, in determining the absolute sincerity of every 
 answer the young lady might make to his supremely 
 important questionings. What the leading inquiry would 
 be, he had fully decided upon, and he did not want 
 any mistake to occur. 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 15.
 
 226 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 While Parsons believed that Miss Rowdon would 
 readily and truthfully answer the questions to which, 
 in his catechism, he proposed to subject her, he had 
 no waj* of deciding, with perfect certainty, as to whether 
 the answer she might give would satisfy and ease his 
 hungry soul. He knew she might consider it a piece 
 of presumption upon his part to undertake to quiz her 
 in regard to the existing relations between her and 
 Munson, and if this proved to be the issue of their 
 first interview, he would then have to abandon 
 all hope of ever climbing higher in her estimation. 
 He thought, however, that there were too sides to the 
 question, and he intended to keep the lamp of Hope, 
 for the intervening time, well trimmed, and be on the 
 lookout for light ahead. It would be a venture at least; 
 but, let the result be what it might, his determination 
 was to seek to hear from Miss Lunata s own lips, what 
 she might be willing to intrust to him in regard to her 
 relations with Aurelius Munson. Somehow, he seemed 
 to be impressed with the idea that she would not 
 waive an answer to what he wanted to know. He 
 determined, however, that he would proceed with 
 prudent caution upon the execution of his well digested 
 purpose, and leave the issue to the young lady. 
 
 Some one has planted an absurdity among our 
 household adages, which is, "The watched pot never 
 boils." To say that time in its passing appears to 
 travel exceeding slow to the watcher for the coming of 
 some anxiously expected event is a verity, and if the 
 "watched pot" means this, then an untruth is converted 
 into a homely illustration of a truism. It really 
 seemed to Parsons that the days dragged that the 
 weeks went at a rate of travel which laggards make.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 227 
 
 Under the pressure of anxiety which he wore, when the 
 morning came, he was ready for the night, and when 
 the night came, it found him a watcher, when he ought 
 to have been in the land of dreams. He became a 
 wooer of the star-robed goddess of the skies until the wee 
 small hours were all that Somnus gave for a dreamy 
 sleep 
 
 At length the morning of the eventful day came which 
 was to bring to John Parsons, as he supposed, an 
 answer to his momentous question an answer which 
 might turn the whole current of his future life an 
 answer which would either awaken emotions of 
 unspeakable delight, or cast a brooding shadow over 
 the hopes and aspirations of one who acknowledged 
 himself to be held in thrall by her from whom the 
 answer was to come. The morning of the day, in 
 which Parsons was to be put through a crucial test, 
 dawned in the fullness and brightness of early autumn s 
 variegated plumage. The air was redolent with the 
 ordor exhaled from the luminous -leaves. Indeed, if 
 the outlook could be considered prophetic, nature was 
 robed in prophecy s array. 
 
 Parsons had conned his lesson well. He could, 
 therefore, start out upon his tour of investigation with 
 matured deliberation. He knew Munson would be at 
 the wedding, and it was with especial pleasure that he 
 anticipated seeing Miss Rowdon and that gentleman 
 meet. In that meeting, he believed he would be able 
 to discover an important revelation, bearing upon what 
 he most devoutly wished to know. Seeing them 
 together, as he supposed he would, during the evening 
 of the wedding, he felt that possibly something might 
 be opened to his view which would be a help to him in
 
 228 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 drawing conclusions a kind of stepping stone from 
 imperious doubt and darkness to better assurance and 
 more light. Should an opportunity present itself ; from 
 making a practical application of the rules of his 
 recently studied lessons in metaphysics, he believed the 
 hoped-for revelations would be discovered. 
 
 The evening for the wedding solemnities drew on 
 apace the company of invited guests began to assem 
 ble, and much of the beauty and chivalry of the 
 country that boasted in having very much of both, 
 were gathering, as witnesses to the placing of a new 
 votive offering upon Hymen s altar. Parsons being one 
 of the officiating attendents, went to the festal scene a 
 little in advance of the general throng, and, in accord 
 ance with the custom of the times, was not only to act 
 as "best man," but was also appointed upon 
 the reception committee. The last named office, of 
 course, brought him face to face with a very large 
 number of the guests, as they severally arrived. But, as 
 is always the case, there were a number who were so- 
 tardy in their coming that Parsons did not get to see 
 them, being called to the waiting room of the bride and 
 groom that he might receive some instructions in 
 regard to his duties preparatory to the marital cere 
 monies. 
 
 All preliminaries being fully settled, the wed 
 ding party moved to the parlor-ilkAs it passed 
 through the corridor, there was a Hist ! and an answer 
 thereto was discovered in the hush of the hum of 
 voices in the cessation of fan-rattling and the craning 
 of necks to get a better view of those who were embark 
 ing upon the sea of matrimony.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 229 
 
 The wedding ceremony was short, but the knot 
 which the grey-headed minister tied, seemed to be 
 strong enough to stand the wear and tear of a 
 matrimonial pilgrimage, let the journey be ever so 
 long. 
 
 The ceremony completed, congratulations were next 
 in order. These were warm-hearted and generous 
 expressions of good-wishes. Nothing stilted or formal. 
 Every expression of "We love you," and "God be with 
 you," came as a cheerful offering from the hearts of 
 well-wishing friends. 
 
 Congratulations finished, the larger part of the 
 assembled guests, preceded by the bride, bride-groom 
 and attendants, passed into the dining-hall. Only with 
 individuals who hold in memory the style of the 
 wedding feasts of the long ago, does a picture remain of 
 w hat they really were. The glitter and tinsel of modern 
 display was conspicuously absent, but, in their stead, 
 the bounteous blessings of a God-favored country made 
 most liberal contributions upon such occasions. 
 Tables fairly groaned under the delicious viands 
 which were spread in unstinted abundance, and 
 0, my ! such cookery ! The ebony-faced Aunt 
 Dinahs of that day were regular artists in their 
 profession, and gloried in their skill. But, gone forever, 
 are those days of uncorrupted gladness. Gone and 
 gone forever, are the palatable and luscious viands 
 which Parsons young manhood knew. Modern cookery, 
 except in pastery and relishes, is a sham and a slander 
 upon the profession. 
 
 Supper having been dispatched and the company 
 having re-assembled in the parlor and library; just as 
 soon as another young man took charge of Parsons
 
 230 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 co-attendant, he was on the qm vive for making dis 
 coveries. 
 
 He had met a number of young ladies while acting as 
 one of the reception committee, and meeting them 
 again after the banquet, he was by them introduced to 
 other young ladies, and, in the company of all these 
 was making himself especially agreeable; but, at the 
 same time, was keeping his eyes wide open for the 
 main chance. He had not met Miss Rowdon, but 
 knew she was present, and running his eyes over the as 
 sembly he saw she was engaged in a spirited conversa 
 tion with one of, his acquaintances, while Munson was 
 playing the part of a restive listener. 
 
 On this occasion Parsons appeared to a very decided 
 advatage. He was tidily attired in an elegant and 
 well fitting suit which set off his comely shape to fine 
 effect, and he seemed to realize that a part, at least, of 
 the general enjoyableness of the evening devolved 
 upon him, because of the prominence of the parts 
 to which he had been assigned. Without any show of 
 ostentation, he therefore seemed to be disposed to study 
 how he could best make every one feel that joy "should 
 be unconfined." But while he was aiming by word 
 and act to contribute to the enjoyment of every body 
 with whom he came in contact ; remember gentle 
 reader, that beneath his smiles beneath his apparent 
 vivacity, there was a heart which had long throbbed in 
 real unrest. 
 
 Without wishing to make an exhibit of a pair of 
 eyes that were unbecomingly inquisitive, he furtively 
 took a look at Miss Rowdon as she stood on the 
 opposite side of the room. She was standing in just 
 such a position as that the light fell upon her so as to
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 231 
 
 bring out the effect of the shadows in her drapery to 
 the finest advantage. Her raven curls gathered them 
 selves in love-knots and rings all over her head. Her eyes 
 sparkled with the freshness of budding womanhood, 
 for she was, as yet only seventeen. If not a sylph, she 
 at least resembled that to which poetic fancy attaches 
 wings and sends on love errands through the upper air. 
 O you lovers of the beautiful, listen ! If the ecstatic 
 delight of that furtive look could have been understood 
 and appreciated by her upon whom it was bestowed, 
 she would have claimed it to be an act of sublime 
 devotion, and in her vestal purity, would have asked, 
 "What more must I demand?" 
 
 For a good part of the evening this same kind of 
 eye-adoration was continued, and although it was an 
 offering made in the greatest secrecy, it was a love- 
 offering nevertheless. Parsons was anxious, but, at the 
 same time discreet. He had continued an eye- worship of 
 his girl-idol through a good part of the evening, and he 
 noted her effort to entertain those w r ith whom she had 
 talked, but discovered not so much as the first letter in 
 the alphabet of her eye-speaking language. If there was 
 any member of the company for whom she carried a 
 higher degree of esteem than she did for any other, she 
 had adroitly concealed the fact. 
 
 That Parsons refrained from seeking to do himself a 
 pleasure, which he coveted above every other, grew out 
 of his prudent caution. Had he sought her company 
 in the early part of the evening, to lay before her what 
 he had determined should be made his chief purpose 
 at this gathering, he thought his earnest excitement 
 might possibly attract attention. This he especially 
 wished to avoid. If he undertook to play the agree-
 
 232 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 able in the early evening, without approaching the 
 subject which to him was so all-ijnportant, and later 
 should withdraw with her from the crowd of busy 
 talkers to do some very special talking for himself, he 
 w r as apprehensive that there might possibly be created 
 some suspicion. This he also wished to avoid. 
 
 The evening was waning before he sought the side of 
 Miss Rowdon. At a time when there was a lull in the 
 buzz of the conversation, and a number of the guests 
 had taken their departure, Parsons walked over to 
 where the young lady was standing, and extending his 
 hand gave her the cordial greeting of a friend. She 
 chided him for his manifested neglect during the 
 evening, and reminded him of his having stated, not 
 many weeks before, that he had placed her name at 
 the head of his list of female friends, and asked him 
 if he did not feel he had been slighting the captain of 
 his company. Parsons remarked that he had not been 
 disposed to interrupt the very pleasant and agreeable 
 conversation she seemed to have been holding with the 
 young men who were so continuously making show of 
 their enjoyment. He remarked further that he 
 hardlj r thought she would, under the circumstances, 
 file an accusation of neglect against him, or for one 
 moment think him capable of slighting her. 
 
 The older people who had been among the guests 
 were nearly all gone, and some of the young folks as 
 well. The home was by no means deserted, however, 
 and Parsons said that if possible he would make 
 amends for his seeming inattention, and expressing a 
 desire to have a little private talk with her, she accom 
 panied him to the drawing room, which had been 
 temporarily deserted, except by two of the bride s boy
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 233 
 
 brothers. This field and fort Parsons resolved to 
 hold long enough to bring forward his purpose in 
 making known to Miss Lunata the introduction to 
 a plan for discovering something which his very soul 
 panted to know. 
 
 Leading the young lady to an open cabinet which 
 stood in one corner of the room, and standing with one 
 arm resting upon it, he looked her squarely 
 in the face, and with an expression of deep 
 seriousness, as well as with unmistakable earnestness, 
 began by telling her he was in trouble, and that he 
 had been nursing his trouble until his trouble had become 
 almost unbearable pain. He told her that he believed 
 she could, if she felt disposed, remove the terrible 
 incubus and relieve him of a severe mental strain. 
 
 Observing that Miss Rowdon seemed somewhat moved 
 by this speech, and noting the look of surprise which 
 spread over her face, Parsons at once saw that she 
 misconstrued the preface to what he had to commu 
 nicate, and rallied her, by an assurance that his was 
 not a case of blood or crime, and that therefore, while 
 he would sanction her wearing a momentary look of sur 
 prise, he did not want her to be scared or even excited, 
 for he had no tale of secret malevolence to unfold no 
 blood curdling midnight meaness to reveal. His was a 
 case of concealed perplexity a case of hidden anxiety 
 which was neither the product of a violation of civil 
 or moral law. He bade her dispel her fears, if she had 
 any, and remember that he came to her for help, such 
 as the agonizing son of sorrow would seek from 
 one who had pity. He told her that she held in her 
 possession a secret a secret at least from him, which 
 by revealing to him, would remove from his mind a 
 great weight of torturing doubt.
 
 234 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 Before letting Miss Lunata know, however, by what 
 question he proposed to draw from her the secret he 
 sought to know, he stated that the query which he 
 would make, with her permission, he would present 
 with the distinct understanding that when his interrog 
 atory had been submitted, she was not to make her 
 answer conditioned upon his explaining for her the 
 reason for the submission of the question. At the same 
 time, however, he assured her that if her answer should 
 be what he suspected it would be, her inquisitive- 
 ness would be satisfactorily quieted in the very near 
 future, and himself vindicated for the search he had 
 made. 
 
 There was an assurance given Miss Lunata that the 
 matter which he then had in hand was not of a light 
 or frivolous character ; that upon its issue there was 
 possibly appended the weal or woe of one human 
 being. 
 
 Parsons, with the very look of honest ingenuousness 
 spread all over his face, told the young lady, that, from 
 the character of their recent interviews, he had, with 
 her consent, made the register to which she, but a 
 moment before had referred, and in which registration 
 her name had stood at the top. This permission to 
 place her name first in the list of his (choicest female 
 friends, he regarded as tantamount to the privilege of 
 exercising some of the rights of a warm personal friend 
 ship, and under the privilege so conferred, he desired to 
 ask his question, over the pledge of his individual 
 honor, that under no circumstances should her name, 
 as a lady or friend, be compromised in the least, 
 because of her answering the proposed question, nor 
 would one single word of dissatisfaction escape his
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 235 
 
 lips, provided she refused to answer the question which 
 should be asked. As a matter of more than ordinary 
 interest to him, he told her he felt half-disposed to 
 plead with her in advance for an answer, but, without 
 resorting to that, he said he would leave that decision 
 to her own good judgment. 
 
 The auditor stood in the presence of Prof. Parsons as 
 though she were rooted to the spot. The surprise, that 
 had but a moment or two previous indicated a consider 
 able amount of sudden excitement, had disappeared, and 
 in its stead the flush of wonderment had taken possession 
 of her face. Indeed, if her expression could have been 
 translated, it would have been, "What can all this 
 mean?" She listened with unabating interest to all 
 the Professor had to say, and when he reached a 
 momentary pause in what he was saying, she seemed 
 to recover from her surprise sufficiently to begin a 
 mental wrestling with her very peculiar position, and 
 invoked the aid of Heaven and her own intutions in 
 leading her to do what was exactly right. As her 
 thoughts chased each other in quick and rapid succes 
 sion through her active mind, she was ready to admit 
 that herself seemed to be the one whose inquiry ought 
 now to be answered. That there was a vagueness, an 
 indefiniteness, and, at the same time, an apparent, 
 honesty and sincerety in all he had said, she was 
 ready to concede. But, to what does he refer, when speak 
 ing of a momentous question, the answer to which is 
 lodged in a poor girl nature like mine, thought Miss 
 Lunata, who, in turn, seemed to have caught the 
 infection of the Professor s questioning and was full 
 of one herself.
 
 236 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 Raising her face, and turning her questioning eyes 
 into those of John Parsons, she said in tones of 
 beseeching tenderness : "Mj- friend, for such I must 
 consider you, and in turn would seek to prove myself 
 as entitled to be so esteemed by you, I am frank to 
 own my incapacity to understand, as I think I ought to 
 understand them, either your position or my own in 
 regard to the question that yet remains unasked. Do 
 not, therefore, I beseech you, keep me longer in a state 
 of painful suspense. Unmask your question. Let me 
 know to what it refers. Tf it relates to me, let me 
 know it. With the honor-bound guarantee that I am 
 in no way to be compromised by answering your ques 
 tion, I am read\" to be put upon the witness stand. 
 Let me say, however, Prof. Parsons, that I regret you 
 should have forestalled the liberty of my asking any 
 question, after my answer shall have been given, that 
 would alleviate uneasiness in my mind, created by 
 your interrogatory. However, you can submit your 
 query, and, if in my power, I will pledge you a truthful 
 reply, and will bide my time for fuller revelations." 
 
 Gratification and exuberant ]oy overflowed the eyes 
 of Parsons as his soul looked through them and 
 evinced its gladness, that the first difficulty had been sur 
 mounted. To express the delight that he felt, in view of 
 what he had achieved, was more than he could do. He 
 was dumb in the presence of the lady, for whom he 
 had a feeling akin to adoration, but which had been 
 barred egress to his lips, and which even then, though 
 struggling for utterance that the over-loaded soul might 
 be at ease, was beaten back bid remain in prison, 
 and wear its fetters till a surer time for deliverance 
 came. There may be light ahead, thought Parsons,
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 237 
 
 but imagined it would be immature to praise its 
 brightness yet. The clouds may be breaking away, 
 thought he, but there is too much haze hanging about 
 the horizon yet, for me to be over-confident. 
 
 Recovering himself sufficiently to speak in his ordi- 
 dinary manner, Prof. Parsons addressed Miss Rowdon, 
 and asked the privilege of thanking her from a full 
 heart for the promise she had just made. He declared 
 that should he attempt to make a better offering than 
 this expression of thanks, his heart would overflow. 
 He said he supposed she knew what that meant, if not, 
 he would explain. He said he did not want to be con 
 verted into a mute, and, as his question of questions 
 yet remained unworded, he wanted the privilege to still 
 be allowed him of asking that question a question 
 the answer to which might carry with it portentious 
 results for the weal or woe, of possibly more than one 
 poor soul. 
 
 While engaged in this conversation, of which there 
 is only an obstract herein recorded, and when reference 
 had been made to woman s curiosity, Miss Rowdon 
 asked Prof. Parsons the following questions: "Do you 
 know," said she, "that the accusation brought against 
 woman in regard to her overweening curiosity, is said 
 to have had its origin in the fact that our original 
 mother had an aesthetic taste, the equal of which 
 earth has never known since her fall ? I believe it ; 
 and inasmuch as a fondness for something as a pet 
 was an inherent quality in her organism, I believe that 
 in her admiration for something beautiful to fondle as a 
 pet, she selected the most lovely creature, barring a 
 human intelligence, that lived anywhere in Eden. The 
 despoiler of human hope, and the prime author of
 
 "238 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 death, in open, and daring antagonism to the author of 
 light, life, and love, determined upon the destruction of 
 the race of men by the corruption of its original 
 mother. To accomplish his fell purpose, he decoyed 
 Eve s pet into his conspiracy and made it the medium 
 of accomplishing her ruin. It must have been thus, for 
 if not, why by Heaven s authority was Eve s pet meta 
 morphosed into a snake hideous thing the ever living 
 mark of God s wrath. Eve had her curiosity and her 
 daughters still carry it. Remember then, Prof. Parsons, 
 that I am a woman, and, as such, am not superior to my 
 race. I have a curiosity that you have subjected to a 
 very severe test, but I assure you it shall be held in 
 abeyance, to await the explanation that is, at some 
 time, to make your question intelligible. 1 
 
 "To ask for an answer to the query I am about 
 to make may be wrong, Miss Rowdon, and 
 should you think so, I crave your pardon in advance. 
 I have carried the matter for a long time as a grief- 
 burden, and, having given its consideration earnest and 
 careful study, cannot find anything wrong in my seek 
 ing relief at your hands. Even if there was the 
 appearance of an impropriety in what I am about to 
 say, there are mitigating circumstances connected there 
 with which plead loudly in extenuation of what might 
 otherwise seem wholly wrong. If I can, however, find 
 shelter from censure no where else, I can surely rely on 
 finding a pleader, in vindication of my course, in your 
 own noble and charitable self. If this refuge is denied 
 me, and you should decide that I have transcended the 
 bounds of polite and gentlemanly decorum, I shall 
 be wretched indeed."
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 239 
 
 "The longer the certain sacrfice is postponed, after 
 the fire has been built, the keener will be the appreci 
 ation of the agonizing torture that is yet in anticipation. 
 The fire is burning, prof. Parsons. The victim is ready. 
 You are the executioner. Delay not the infliction of 
 your blow. The victim will not wince if you strike 
 now." 
 
 "Miss Lunata Rowdon, since the day when the 
 beautiful daughter of Agamemnon was set apart as a 
 sacrifice to satisfy the caprice of Diana, I can not 
 think of an intended immolation which would have 
 more the appearance of a savage desecration than to 
 subject you to the injustices of having to make the 
 slightest personal sacrifice of your wishes because of a 
 question that yet lingers unspoken upon my lips. I am 
 indeed no Calchas. I come not as a herald of bad 
 news. No, no ! the lovely Iphigenia, in her innocence, 
 appealed to the obdurate heart of the chaste Diana, 
 and instead of being immolated upon the altar which 
 had been erected for her destruction, she was made a 
 priestess in the Taurian temple of the goddess. Then 
 come not to me, Miss Lunata, I beg of you, as one 
 who brings any sacrificial offering. Consider yourself 
 as wholly absolved from even the barest suspicion of 
 having wronged anything or anybody. Intentionally, I 
 know this is something you could not do. If I, 
 for one moment thought you would craftily seek to 
 wound the heart of any one, the question, now resting 
 upon my trembling lips and clamoring for utterance, 
 would remain forever unworded." 
 
 "No contrition, no repentance, no sadness, no sorrow, 
 nor any of the concomitant train of distresses, I hope 
 need be expected in one long retinue, Miss Lunata,
 
 240 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 because I have had the presumption, (for such you 
 may consider it) to subject you to a catechism upon 
 one particular subject. Grow not dissatisfied that I 
 come to you at this hour. I come not, it is true, with 
 any ready offering, but be you like the lovely pagan 
 Iphigenia at least in one respect. Enter boldly upon 
 your pontificial duty, and at least allow me the priv 
 ilege of laying upon the altar about which you officiate 
 a gift, be it ever so small. Mine it is, not yours to 
 bring a sacrifice. It is your prerogative to say whether 
 what I bring is worthy of your consideration." 
 
 "From the remarks you have just made, Miss- 
 Rowdon, I am led to suspect that you are still ignorant 
 of the matter I have in hand the matter I have been 
 trying to prepare your mind for, and that you may no 
 longer be kept in a state of suspense and uncertainty, 
 I will state in round and distinct terms that my 
 question immediately concerns you, otherwise I would 
 not have come to you with it." 
 
 "Is it really so? I the party whom your inquiry 
 chiefly concerns ? This is to me very strange. How is 
 it, Professor, that I am the only person concerned in 
 this matter ? I presume I am not violating my pledge 
 to ask that much." 
 
 "You misunderstood me, Miss Rowdon, I did not say 
 you were the only person concerned in my investiga 
 tion, nor do I now say so. But I said, and still say, 
 the matter of my research immediately concerns you." 
 
 "Well, Professor, you can proceed with your scrutin 
 izing research, if you please, and should I be disposed 
 to grow curious to know anything my pledge would 
 bar me from asking about, a word or a lifted finger 
 would be sufficient to check my curiosity."
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 241 
 
 "Without further preliminaries, MissRowdon, I pre 
 sume you are aware that for more than a year you have 
 been a neighborhood target for common gossip. But 
 while I say this, I would have 3*011 know, however, 
 that not one syllable has ever been whispered which 
 would impinge upon your immaculate purity. And I 
 can further assure you that had there been a symptom 
 of any imputation of doubt in regard to your reputa 
 tion as a lady, a battalion of young men would have 
 sprung into avenging array, and with knightly courage 
 would have vindicated your innocence. No, no, it was 
 not this, but tongues would wag. Not in malevolence, 
 but they would wag. The reason for the gossip, was 
 in consequence of there being two reports continually 
 afloat in your vicinity in regard to your relations with 
 Aurelius Munson. One report had it, that you were 
 engaged to Munson, and that you were only deferring 
 the marriage because of your youthfulness. The other 
 report was, that you were not engaged to him and 
 never had been that you only tolerated his attentions 
 in defference to the wishes of your father. Now, Miss 
 Rowdon, to my question. It is simply this. Which 
 of these reports, if either, is true ? But before you 
 begin one syllable of your answer, let me assure you, 
 that, although you have pledged me a candid reply if 
 in your power, you are absolved from that obligation 
 and your answer left wholly optional with you." 
 
 " You are certainly very generous, Prof. Parsons, and 
 when you shall have come to know me better, should 
 that ever be, you will then know that I do not like to 
 be outdone in generosity. I am obliged to you 
 for your kind consideration ; but, inasmuch as I gave 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 16.
 
 242 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 the pledge referred to, with full knowledge of the bind 
 ing obligation of my promise, you will allow me to 
 respectfully decline the offer of absolution from that 
 pledge. Inasmuch, Professor, as your questions are 
 not interrogatory but declaratory, I will state that the 
 second declaration, or second stated report is true. 
 There now ! Well, it is said that an honest confession 
 is good for the soul. If this be true, the soul of one 
 poor girl ought to feel relieved, for I have confessed to 
 you, Professor, a truth which has been made to no 
 other man ; still this confession brings no relief to me, 
 except that I take comfort in the thought that I have a 
 gentleman confidant. But while this confession brings 
 me no relief, it is pleasurable nevertheless, for two 
 different and specia l reasons. In the first place, I am 
 gratified to be able to do something that you have 
 assured me would give you especial delight, and, in the 
 second place, it has furnished me a friend into whose 
 sympathizing ears I can tell my troubles, without 
 having them given to common gossipers to be bandied 
 throughout the neighborhood. I have sighed for some 
 one with whom I could take counsel some one upon 
 whose judgment I could rely, for you must know that 
 with such enviroments as are mine, I need some one 
 to whom I can look for help. You have given me a 
 place among your especial female friends, and I have 
 an abundant confidence in your good sense and sound 
 judgment. I think I can safely confide in you. But 
 have you decided to postpone indefinitely the explana 
 tion of your reason for keeping me in a state of 
 suspense? This is very unsatisfactory, to say the 
 least of it. However, with the stoic fortitude of a true 
 woman, I will show you that I can wait watch and 
 wonder What Next?"
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 "When love s well-tim d tis not a fault to love; 
 The strong, the brave, the virtuous and the wise 
 Sink in the soft captivity together." 
 
 Addison. 
 
 "In many ways does the full heart reveal 
 The presence of the love it would conceal," 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 W|i4lTH the waning hours of the evening, the 
 II company which had been in attendance upon 
 J I to the wedding had nearly all disappeared. A few, 
 
 ^^^^^^^ 
 
 however, still lingered, as though loth to vacate 
 a place in which they had found so much enjoyment. 
 Among those who still remained, were John Parsons 
 and Miss Lunata Rowdon. These two were still 
 engaged in earnest conversation in the corner of the 
 drawing room, from which position they had not 
 moved from the time of their first locating themselves 
 therein. 
 
 After that part of the conversation, which is recorded 
 in the foregoing chapter, as having taken place between 
 Parsons and Miss Rowdon, the two remained, he insist 
 ing that there were some othex. matters concerning 
 which he desired to have a hearing. He told her that 
 her prompt and ready answer to his troublesome 
 question her undisguised avowal of the impression 
 which came over her, upon her first meeting him, had 
 inspired him with a sufficient amount of boldness to 
 make to her some further revelations. With a face flushed 
 by excitement, and in tones of appealing tenderness, 
 he assured her that there was no computing the 
 estimate he placed upon her friendship no explaining 
 the intensified admiration which he had for her no 
 interpreting the instantaneous effort to have a menta
 
 244 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 photograph find a lodgement in his memory, the 
 m oment he first saw her. and no satisfactory elucidation 
 of the reason for his becoming so intensely interested in 
 her welfare. "It is barely possible," added he, "that 
 the reason of this estimation of you this admiration 
 for you, and this interest in you, may be connected 
 with the reasons which have been reserved, as a future 
 disclosure, in connection with your confession." He 
 admonished her to keep her spirits from running down 
 in consequence of an over-amount of anxiety, and 
 not to grow uneasy or restless because of -being 
 kept in a state of suspense. The time, he said to her 
 would not be very long-deferred, and when further 
 revelations did crop out, it would be more than prob 
 able that she would again be found wonderfully 
 surprised as she encountered a new development. 
 
 At this juncture, Parsons admonished Miss Rowdon 
 that he discovered friends were waiting for her. He 
 thanked her for his most delightful hour s enjoyment, 
 at the same time begging pardon for his having 
 detained her so long. The two then passed into the 
 corridor, where Parsons, with knightly gallantry, 
 helped to place her wraps upon the young lady s 
 shoulders, and, while doing so, asked her, sotto voce, 
 if she would attend the reception the next evening ? 
 She replied that she did not know. "Do not know? If 
 at all, in your power," replied he, "you must be sure 
 to be present ; as my enjoyment will be greatly marred 
 should you fail to attend. Then going with her and her 
 escort to the front, he whispered "Pleasant dreams;" 
 and, as she rode away, he waved her a good night. 
 
 It was not long after Miss Rowdon departed till the 
 company all dispersed, and Parsons, upon reaching his
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 245 
 
 boarding-house, went at once to his room. Notwith 
 standing the lateness of the hour he made no 
 preparations to retire, but seated himself, and in silence, 
 ruminated upon the events that had taken place within 
 the last few hours. Chanticleer, in heralding the 
 dawn, aroused him from his revery. He arose, and, 
 perambulating his room, gave vent to the following 
 soliloquy. 
 
 " I am a captive. There is no questioning this. 
 Yet I am a willing captive. While even now I feel the 
 chains of my captivity wrapping themselves about me, 
 I would be wholly unwilling to have them removed. 
 They are not fetters such as serfs wear, but such as 
 bind without galling. Provided she, whose hands 
 forge them, in loving sympathy guarantees a panacea, 
 the wounds will leave no scars. What will she, who 
 has thus fettered my heart and bound me to an uncer 
 tain fate do in my case ? Will she leave me to pine 
 amid the wreck of ruined hopes, or will she come to 
 my relief and lighten the burden of the chains herself 
 has bound me with? I have obligated myself to 
 relieve her anxious curiosity at some time in the near 
 future. How shall I make good that obligation ? To 
 do so, must I make a complete and unambiguous 
 avowal of the influence she has wielded over my 
 affections, and, through them, over my life for months 
 past? Must I, with all the persuasiveness of which I 
 am master, plead with her to look with compassionate 
 pity upon the wretchedness of my condition ? T would 
 not willingly do wrong. What course must I pursue ? 
 In my present state of mind, I could not make what I 
 had to say, by way of removing her curiosity, anything 
 less than an orison welling up from the altar of my
 
 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 soul, and then pleading with her to sanctify my offer 
 ing by a word of approbation, such as Heaven would 
 accept from beauty wedded to purity. This must be 
 my course. I can devise nothing better. Now for 
 rest. Sleep I cannot woo. Bright visions, chasing 
 each other through my morning vigils, may bring me 
 sleep by and by." 
 
 The trailing veil of the queen of night had begun to 
 be looped up. In the far away East, the first hori 
 zontal rays of the god of day peeped from beneath 
 that uplifted curtain, and waking birds began to sing 
 again their matin songs, before Parsons sank upon 
 his couch, to an uneasy and restless sleep. 
 
 Oh, thou goddess of night ! Call in from their 
 shadowy trysting place the fairies, and let them fan the 
 fevered brow of the young Professor with their gauzy 
 wings. He is in trouble ! His is heart trouble, and if 
 in the alembic of your outer world there has been 
 distilled any specific remedy for pain such as his, 
 touch his lips therewith and bid him rest in peace ! If 
 there is, in the solitude of your domain, any proph 
 esying elf, who is interested in the welfare of lovers, 
 let her fly to where Parsons is tossing uneasily on his 
 couch, and whisper in his ear, that all will be well ! 
 
 Notwithstanding the short time which Parsons had 
 allotted for sleep, he was up for breakfast. Although 
 looking slightly jaded, he had neither lost his vivacity 
 nor his voice. He had resolved that the outcome of 
 the matter in which he Avas so profoundly engaged, 
 let it be what it might, should be kept a profound 
 secret, so far as any divulging of it by him was con 
 cerned ; and, consequentl\% he determined not only to 
 padlock his lips, but keep his emotions under such
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 247 
 
 control as that, through neither avenue should any 
 betrayal be discovered of his purpose. Because of 
 this resolve, he wore at the breakfast table an altogether 
 placid face, and seemed to be wholly undisturbed by 
 anything, while partaking of his morning meal. Upon 
 finishing his breakfast, he took up his line of 
 march for his school. To discharge his professional 
 duties was harder than usual, for two reasons ; first, 
 because he had to fight against a feeling of drowsiness, 
 and secondly, he had a fight to keep his mind concen 
 trated upon the routine work before him. However, 
 he worried through, and hurrying home, he indulged 
 himself in a short nap, and, having had his supper, he 
 put himself in commendable attire, and was not long 
 in getting away to the reception. Having heard that 
 Miss Rowdon would not attend the reception, he was 
 considerably disappointed, if not crest-fallen. Why 
 she would not attend, Parsons did not know. The reason 
 for her not going, as developed by subsequent revela 
 tions, made it well for him that he did not know. 
 
 The gathering at the reception, as Parsons thought, 
 was a success in point of numbers, and the richness of 
 the repast which was spread, but was a failure in his 
 case, for a special reason. 
 
 There were a number of young people present with 
 whom Parsons was unacquainted, and who, for general 
 appearance and polite bearing, could but be considered 
 as complimenting their district of country. But, 
 despite what he recognized as his dut} 7 , under the cir 
 cumstances, Parsons seemed disinclined, in this 
 instance, to extend his acquaintance among those 
 present. He entered into the spirit of joy and amuse 
 ment as a perfunctory duty rather than because it gave 
 him pleasure.
 
 248 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 There were pretty, sprightly and interesting girls 
 present; but Parsons appreciation of these attributes 
 seemed, on this particular evening, to be in an eclipse. 
 Ah ! could he have given the real reason for his apathy 
 and indifference, it would have been a cause of sur 
 prise to every one who knew him. The truth being 
 divulged, it would have been discovered, that, on the 
 evening before, Miss Lunata Rowdon had, with her 
 own hands, turned the light of a lamp, which she held, 
 in upon her own heart, and had shown to Prof. 
 Parsons what was there. This was, the primal cause of 
 his indifference to the gaities of the evening. This was 
 the incident which preoccupied his mind and made him 
 unsympathetic with everything that was transpiring 
 about him. Besides, he had hoped to have made this 
 the occasion of allowing the search-light to be 
 turned in upon his own soul, by Miss Rowdon, that 
 she might discover how deeply that soul was moved by 
 an adoration of her own dear self, and to have asked 
 if she could not minister to his trouble. 
 
 To Prof. Parsons, the evening passed tardil} T . There 
 was nothing in the surroundings nothing in the 
 gaity of the company that gave speed to the passing 
 hours. He consulted hie watch with sufficient 
 frequency to have satisfied any one -who might have 
 noticed it, that he was growing weary. Even before 
 any one of the guests began to leave, the Professor 
 quietly stole out ordered his horse, which was soon 
 cantering along the road towards his boarding-house. 
 
 The refreshing coolness of the night air, ladened, as 
 it was, with the ordor of the dew-burdened meadows 
 and trees, braced the nerves of the young preceptor for 
 his homeward ride. He was not oblivious, at any time,
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 249 
 
 to nature s beauties, and as he watched fair Luna 
 just then in the zenith, riding in silent majesty and 
 glory above a sleeping hemisphere, his heart did 
 obeisance before the supernal grandeur of the scene. 
 The queen of night, as she rode through the blue 
 expanse of the upper ether, was half robed in a fleecy 
 cloud, through the transparency of which there shone 
 one bright star like a glittering diadem which had fallen 
 from her radiant brow. As he rode on, looking with a 
 kind of bewildering admiration upon the glorious 
 beauty of the night, he broke forth in a soliloquy which 
 showed the devotional spirit of the man. 
 
 "O, fair Luna, virgin goddess of the skies! as thy 
 argental rays rest on the hills and plains, or glitter on 
 the rippling, babbling brook, the scene draws me 
 heavenward by its elevating influence, and I would 
 fain breathe to thee a hymn of praise. Lonely thou 
 dost seem to wander through the nightly azure deep, 
 while millions at this hour are lifting, through thy 
 elevating rays, songs of praise to the Great I Am to 
 Him who built and started thy silvery chariot through 
 the skies. 0, fair, lovely queen of night ! Why does 
 my heart seem to well up with emotions of sublimer 
 appreciation to the Giver of All Good, amid these scenes, 
 so still and half awe inspiring ? Why should I seem to be 
 so deeply impressed with a sense of devotional admira 
 tion as I look now into thy bright face ? Why should 
 I have become a more ardent admirer of thy queenly 
 beauty, as thou ridest now in yonder ethereal blue, than 
 when thou didst last bring out thy royal retinue ? I 
 have it ! yes ! I have it. Thy name, beauteous 
 regal ruler ! is a link in fair Lunata s name, and as 
 thy light is the dispenser of gladness, when thou dost
 
 250 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 dispel darkness, so the brightness of Lunata s lovely 
 face, and the genial influence of her promise must 
 break in upon the darkness of my soul and light up 
 its secret chambers, or I will be left amid a night of 
 ever during darkness." 
 
 Thus did John Parsons continue to ponder over his 
 enthrallment, and soliloquize upon his peculiar environ 
 ment, while he wended his way homeward ; and 
 not until the clatter of the hoofs of his horse, as he 
 spun along the way, awakened the dogs at the home 
 of farmer Watson, was he aroused from his revery. 
 Riding his horse into the barn, he unsaddled and 
 unbridled him in his accustomed stall, and then 
 hurried off to his own quarters. Being a little fatigued 
 from a ride, over a rough road, for a number of miles, 
 he hastily retired, and was soon in the arms of Somnus. 
 Two consecutive nights of dissipation had closed the 
 portals of dreams against him, and Parsons slept the 
 sleep of undisturbed honesty. 
 
 Before the up-coming of the morning sun, the 
 Professor was out and enjoying the exhilerating effects 
 of the cool atmosphere. He was out even before the 
 woodland choristers had fairly opened their gladsome 
 carol, in a matin song of triumphant praise. 
 
 Parsons answered the call to breakfast ate with a 
 relish the well prepared viands, such as always found a 
 place upon the Watson table, and was then ready for 
 a new day s work in the school-room. Repairing to 
 the place where he met his young pupil friends 
 ever ready to meet him with smiling faces, he 
 went forward with his usual duties, as though he had 
 been subjected to no recent excitement. Thus that 
 day, and the days of another week passed, without any-
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 251 
 
 thing occurring of particular note outside of the usual 
 routine of school work. At the close of the following; week, 
 however, he decided that on the succeeding Sunday, he 
 would call upon Miss Rowdon, and considering "The 
 better the day, the better the deed," he would, if possi 
 ble, not only relieve her mind of any anxiety she 
 might have been carrying on his account, since their 
 last interview ; but, to fully, fairly and unreservedly 
 explain to her his own connection with the matter he 
 had left with her, and which he had dignified by calling 
 it his "question of questions." He felt that he could not 
 longer hold the young lady in a state of suspense he 
 felt as well, that he*could no longer conceal in his own 
 mind that which he would, under the circumstances, 
 be compelled, sooner or later, to reveal. While satisfy 
 ing her curiosity, he thought therefore, the time would 
 be opportune for divesting himself of an anxiety which 
 had so long hung like a trammel upon his own soul. 
 
 To carry out his decision, that the following Sunday 
 should witness the liberation of Miss Rowdon from her 
 state of doubt, Parsons made her a visit on that day. 
 The young lady received him very kindly. A little 
 coyness accompanied by an expression of countenance 
 in which he read his first satisfactory lesson from that 
 strange and inarticulate text-book, was apparent as her 
 soul mounted to, and talked through her eyes. The two 
 There was no coquettish frippery in that meeting, 
 met. There was a mutual recognition of friends. Miss 
 Rowdon extended her hand to the Professor in no luke 
 warm, half-hearted way. She gave him a genuinely 
 generous greeting, such as true friends know how to 
 interpret. She told him that she was glad to see him; 
 and there was that in her manner and intonation of
 
 252 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 voice which confirmed the unspoken expression her 
 eyes had furtively revealed. That she meant more 
 than could be told by both articulate and inarticulate 
 language could hardly have been denied. 
 
 The very air of the room in which the two were 
 seated seemed to him, somehow, to grow suddenly 
 fragrant with the flowers of hope. He became inspired. 
 The flush of exhileration played in unwonted exhibit 
 over his face and lent lustre to his eyes. 
 
 After some time had passed in pleasant converse 
 upon the common topics of the day, Parsons informed 
 Miss Rowdon that he had chosen that day as the 
 occasion for the fulfillment of the promise he had made 
 her on the evening of the wedding. 
 
 "I am very much gratified indeed, Professor, that 
 your promise, in its fulfillment, has not been longer 
 deferred. I confess I have been a little anxious, but 
 determined my anxiety should not grow into impatience. 
 I had confidence in your pledge, and believed it would 
 be fairly and faithfully complied with. If then you 
 have chosen the present as the time to make your 
 revelation, I am ready and anxious to hear it, and am 
 a willing auditor to whatever you have to say. Please 
 spare me, however, as much as you can, if there is 
 anything harrowing, or even especially unpleasant in 
 the forth-coming announcement." 
 
 "There is nothing, I assure you, Miss Rowdon, in the 
 revelation I propose to make that need give you the 
 smallest degree of disquietude. When the matter in 
 its entirety is laid before you. I am persuaded that 
 my motive for interrogating you in regard to affairs 
 connected with your private life, will be readly dis 
 covered. You will see, Miss Rowdon, with equal read-
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 253: 
 
 iness, that there could have been no kind of justification, 
 in my invading the privacy of your own life-intentions, 
 but for the fact that my own weal or woe seemed to 
 be inseparably connected with my knowing something 
 of the purpose of those intentions." 
 
 "You may possibly think, Miss Rowdon, that what 
 I have heretofore done, and what I am now about 
 to do, are both wrong. But I hope, even in the 
 event of your thinking my course is a violation of the 
 law of right, that you will allow the designs and 
 intentions of an earnest life to plead an extenuation of 
 that wrong." 
 
 "Let the matter eventuate as it may, Professor, I 
 want to assure you now, and here, that no complaint 
 shall be laid at your door by me. In matters such as 
 we now have under consideration, the common con 
 ventionalities of society may, for a time, be ignored. 
 Your desire, as I understand you, is to communicate 
 something which concerns me especially, and my wish 
 is to know what that something is. In order that this 
 end may be attained, and each of us satisfied, we will 
 not make sticklers of ourselves, by laying down a 
 certain formulated rule by which the end to be accom 
 plished shall be reached. You may therefore lay aside 
 formalities and proceed with what you may have to 
 say without let or hindrance. I have declared myself 
 your friend and I assure you my friendship is not made 
 of such chaff as that it can be uprooted by the first 
 adverse wind with which it comes in contact." 
 
 "It is my abiding confidence in, your friendship, as 
 well as in your clear-sighted judgment, Miss Rowdon, 
 that emboldens me to present the matter that now 
 lies so heavily on my mind. It is your friendship
 
 254 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 your judgment that I regard as my shield in this 
 emergency, and this I would seek to hold up before me, 
 as a protection against censure, either from you or 
 myself, for any expression that may escape from my 
 overburdened soul." 
 
 "Please listen to me, Miss Rowdon. I am here to 
 render an explanation ; and, if I ever appealed to my 
 own conscience to help me to be brave, I would make 
 that appeal now. If there was ever a captive completely 
 held by the thrall of a binding bondage, who could 
 grow eloquent by the force of his surroundings, in 
 pleading for liberty, I am now that captive. The key 
 to my fetters you hold. In mere} then unshackle me, 
 as I most devoutly bow before you. I am a worshiper 
 at the feet of beauty. Turn not thou away from my 
 offering. I have found you enshrined in so much 
 excellence as to make you the realization of my ideal 
 and a present idol. Miss Rowdon, I love you. This 
 declaration is the sublimest poetry of my soul. Nay, 
 more. I have loved you from the time of our first 
 meeting, and had there been no seeming obstruction to 
 this averment, the out-gush of a warm-hearted oblation 
 would long since have been laid at your feet. The 
 oratory of my spiritual nature knows no purer, nor more 
 pathetic perioration than this. From that night that 
 eventful wedding night, when you first pulled back the 
 clouds of uncertainty, by which I was enshrouded, and 
 let the light of hope in upon my despondency, I have 
 wondered, until my wonderings have grown painfully 
 intensified as to whether there was a possibility of my 
 finding a place within the sanctuary of your heart. 
 Had I found, from your answer to my question, 
 that there was another a prior and acceptable claimant
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 255 
 
 to that place, my idea of manly dignity and true firm 
 ness would have stilled my tongue and sealed my lips 
 against the utterance of one single word that could 
 have been construed as seeking to disturb the security 
 of that claimant." 
 
 "You recognize me as a friend, Miss Rowdon ; may 
 I not hope that my earnest and devoted intercession 
 may win for me a place more sacred than that of 
 friendship. I would not be an idolator, but my admi 
 ration so nearly approaches adoration, that I can 
 scarcely discover a difference. Turn not then your ear 
 away from a petitioner, the answer to whose appeal 
 will make him unspeakably happy or unutterably 
 miserable. Oh ! answer me now. Anything rather 
 than impending uncertainty!" 
 
 " So this is the answer you have withheld till now, 
 and with which I presume you propose to quiet the 
 curiosity you so artfully created in my mind the night 
 of the Avedding, is it ? After my taking you into my 
 confidence that night, and making the frank, honest, 
 and undisguised admission, in answer to your question, 
 that I was not engaged to Mr. Aurelius Munson that 
 I never would be, and that my receiving his visits was 
 rather perfunctory than otherwise ; why did you seek to 
 keep me in a state of mortal suspense all this w r hile? 
 Possibly you did it with a view to testing some charac 
 teristic of mine about which you were not entirely 
 satisfied. Is this the reason, Professor, for the post 
 ponement till the present hour of the declarations to 
 which I have just listened ?" 
 
 "Fallibility, Miss Rowdon, is a universal and inher 
 ent quality of our race. To err is human, it is God-like 
 to forgive. Errors are often the outgrowth of cow-
 
 256 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 ardice, and I presume, if I blundered in not making 
 the declarations that night, that I pour forth to-day ; 
 please remember that my heart was almost bursting to 
 make a revelation which my cowardly lips could not 
 be induced to unfold. I certainly wanted to disclose 
 the raging excitement under which my mind was 
 suffering, but I was afraid. Coward that I was ! Better, 
 by far, that I should have gone before you in a confes 
 sional then, than to have nursed my emotions, and bid 
 them be still when they clamored to be heard. But I 
 did not give them speech, and can only ask that you 
 forgive that which was omitted to be done, for no 
 reason except that I was afraid." 
 
 " Of what were you afraid, Professor? You seemed 
 to have the utmost confidence in me, and I am not 
 conscious of having done anything to have created 
 alarm. I answered your question promptly and with 
 out hesitation, and this show of confidence in you 
 ought to have gone a long way towards bolstering your 
 opinion of my good intentions." 
 
 " I did not carry with me, Miss Rowdon, after our 
 interview at the wedding, one single shadow of doubt 
 in regard to your honesty, your integrity, or your 
 superior goodness. The plain honest truth is, I was 
 afraid of myself. I was not satisfied that my power 
 in the use of words could present to you the overmas 
 tering and potent energy of the admiration for you 
 which dominated my whole being." 
 
 "Under the circumstances, Professor, I presume in 
 this instance I will be compelled to accept your expla 
 nation, and excuse you for keeping me so long in a 
 state of suspense. It seems something of a coincidence 
 however, Professor, that opinions so similar, and
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 257 
 
 exciting impressions, so exactly corresponding to each 
 other, should have flashed themselves through the 
 mind of each of us, upon our first meeting. With 
 me there has been much study in regard to the changes 
 produced upon my mind by that unexpected coming 
 together. I have been unable to define the effects of 
 that meeting to my entire satisfaction. It was different 
 from anything that I had ever experienced; and, not 
 being able to analyze a thing which is immaterial, the 
 feeling I experienced remained a nameless curiosity. 
 It followed me it haunted my footsteps. Like a 
 phantom, it came to me in my dreams, and whether 
 waking or sleeping the same strange and unsubdued 
 emotions were ever present with me. Upon the occasion 
 of my turning jockey, and closing a trade with you for 
 your horse, the unchristened emotion grew more 
 intense. After that little sally, the nameless emotion 
 would not keep quiet. It seemed to take control of 
 my very heart-beats. My pulse put on, at intervals, 
 unwonted throbbing. Professor, could this have been 
 the outcome of a quickened, and suddenly aroused 
 admiration." 
 
 "I will consent to say, Miss Rowdon, that your con 
 clusion in regard to the invisible power which remains 
 nameless, but which exercises such an influence over 
 your thoughts and life, is correct, provided a further 
 development of that emotion be acknowledged to be 
 the gradual unfolding of a flower which you have not 
 yet named, but which must yield the ripeded fruit for 
 which I pine even your priceless love." 
 
 "You are certainly very complimentary, Prof. 
 Parsons. There seems to be couched in your response 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 17.
 
 258 WHAT NEXT? OB 
 
 an explanation as. to why I am now experiencing a 
 self-acknowledged state of mind, and, to what, possibly, 
 that mental condition may ultimately lead. Accept 
 my thanks for your help in my entanglement. Con 
 tinuing my recapitulation, and in that review, as I 
 travel still further in the direction of the present, I 
 think I am necessitated to call upon you further, for an 
 explanation of the new and changed relations between 
 you and myself." 
 
 "In the interview which we held at the wedding," 
 continued Miss Rowdon, "it was easy to discern that 
 your interrogatories upon that occasion, were attended 
 with more or less excitement, and I confess that with 
 the apparent ebb and flow in your excitement, my own 
 feeling of interest seemed to have corresponding 
 fluctuations. While you were engaged in your earnest 
 and animated conversation, as you stood before me with 
 one arm resting upon a cabinet, and looking me 
 directly in the eyes with an investigating look, I was 
 surprised, but did not avert my face from your searching 
 glances. You were unfolding to my willing ears some 
 thing that awakened the first throbbings of the emotions 
 I have attempted to describe. I looked at you and listened 
 to you, with an intensified interest. Was this interest 
 sympathy? If not sympathy, has the philologist 
 coined no term suited to my peculiar state of mind?" 
 
 "Such is the nature of sympathy, Miss Rowdon," 
 replied Parsons, "that it cannot exist, except in a heart 
 where love finds a home. Pushed out of that home, 
 sympathy may become chilled, and under the influence 
 of that blight may never return, and the soul from 
 which it made its exit, remain a barren waste. On the 
 other hand sympathy, when properly nursed and
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 259 
 
 carefully guarded, may ripen into something holier and 
 more felicitous than pity. Oh ! that such a harvest 
 were now ripe ready for the gathering, and I the 
 sickle bearer, with the privilege of claiming the fruit 
 age as my own. May I not soon so consider it, Miss 
 Rowdon?" 
 
 "I think, Professor, that I have made about as much 
 a confession as a young lady of my limited experience 
 ought to make in the presence of so young a priest of 
 Thallassius. Accept the confession as far as it has 
 been made. I will take under consideration a further 
 study of the relations that exist between us. After I 
 have finished the study, necessary to the answering of 
 your questions, at a suitable time, I will answer 
 your query. Be not impatient. Remember I waited 
 with some degree of unrest for certain revela 
 tions at your hands, and uncomplainly submitted 
 to your request. You cannot, I am sure, consider me 
 either cruel or unjust for making a similar demand of 
 you. Wait, then, till I can give you an answer to 
 your pleading which shall be neither evasive nor 
 undecisive." 
 
 "To such a decree issued in such distinctness, 
 and emanating from such a source, I must most 
 respectfully and uncomplainingly yield an acquiesence. 
 The sympathy, Miss Rowdon, which you so sweetly 
 exhibited in my behalf, must stand sponser for your 
 devout petitioner, while you are engaged in your 
 deliberations, for I would fain 
 
 Learn to win a lady s faith 
 Nobly, as the thing in high ; 
 Bravely, as for life or death 
 With a regal gravity." 
 
 "As I understand your decree, it is no bar, Miss 
 Rowdon, to my wearing the spell of devotional admira-
 
 260 WHAT XEXT? OR 
 
 tion which has been woven about my whole being, by 
 your personal charms ; but, that I must patiently bide my 
 time, and later learn whether there is any responsive 
 music made by a harp, the delicate strings of which I 
 have tried to strike, will remain to be seen. When may 
 I come and hear your reply?" 
 
 "The matter which I am to take under advisement, 
 Professor Parsons, is of too much importance to you as 
 well as myself, to be treated either lightly or hastily. 
 In its remote consequences, it may embrace the 
 weal or woe of your future life as well as 
 mine. It cannot, therefore, be too fully weighed and 
 examined. A mistake, made in the choice of a 
 companion, for the journey of life, is apt to be irreme 
 diable, and sound judgment may not unfrequently 
 disapprove the choice which taste or fancy would 
 suggest. There are more things than one to be 
 adjusted to my sense of right before my decision can 
 be presented to you. I would not, for any consider 
 ation, deceive you, or seek to leave with you a false 
 imnression. I hope, therefore, that I may be able to 
 enter upon the investigation with honesty and prudence 
 as my guides, and when I have studied the question 
 until I think I understand it fully, you shall have my 
 answer, which, when given, shall be honest decisive 
 final. From it there shall be no appeal. I will reserve 
 to myself a sufficient time to look at the question in 
 all the possible bearings in which it can be presented 
 to my youthful mind. I will endeavor to weigh every 
 thing in the scales of justice, and will have all the 
 consequences of my decision settled before that decision 
 is rendered. Give me, therefore, a week for making up 
 my summary of evidence. Call next Sunday and I 
 will have my answer in waiting."
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 261 
 
 "Your frankness, your prudence, your honesty and 
 your determination, Miss Rowdon, challenge my admi 
 ration. Let your decision be what it may, I shall 
 never cease to revere the memory of one whose highest 
 ambition seemed to be to know the right, that the 
 right she might pursue." 
 
 " In obedience to your wish, I will come to you next 
 Sunday, Miss Rowdon. I will then lay a new weekly 
 offering upon the shrine about which you officiate; and, 
 whether it shall be the last that these hands will 
 place thereon or not, I will at least bow to the result 
 of your decision with the heroic fortitude of a volun 
 tary sacrifice." Then, taking Miss Rowdon s hands in 
 his own, and looking her steadily in the eyes, Parsons, 
 with trembling emotion said : " Light of my soul s 
 sanctuary, let not the fire which you alone can keep 
 burning therein, leave that sanctuary in darkness, amid 
 which a forlorn hope will brood and hang the badges 
 of continual regret. May the Dispenser of justice 
 guide you in reaching your conclusion, and may he 
 keep you in safety, and allow you to meet me at the 
 appointed time. Good-by." 
 
 With this farewell, Parsons started home. He car 
 ried with him a sad heart. Doubt and uncertainty 
 hung thick about his most earnest wishes, and with 
 feelings akin to agony, he asked What Next ?
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 "On you, most loved, with anxious fear I wait, 
 And from your judgment must expect my fate." 
 
 Addison. 
 
 "Thlnkest thou 
 
 That I could live, and let thee go. 
 Who art my life itself? no, no," 
 
 Moore. 
 
 I/ HE circumstances under which Parsons quitted the 
 |I(L presence of Miss Rowdon were very peculiar. He 
 
 IL had carried for a long time an anxious solicitude 
 for the time to come when he could make a frank 
 avowal of his love for her. That time came, and he had 
 unburdened the very fullness of a soul s devotion for her. 
 She had listened to his declarations, and had evinced 
 very much interest in his recital both as to where he be 
 came impressed with a sense of her superior worth, and 
 the character of the feelings he carried awaj 7 with him 
 from their first meeting. He had told her how hope 
 lessly he had, for so long a time, considered the 
 possibility of ever telling her the consuming desire 
 with which his mind had been burdened. He had 
 recounted the fact ; that it was only because of her 
 own frank and ready reply to a question in regard to 
 her relations with Aurelius Munson that the window of 
 his soul flew* wide open, through which Hope entered, 
 and nestled down in its sacred precincts. 
 
 After having repeatedly received, at the hands of the 
 young lady, unmistakable evidence of her good opinion 
 of him; to have her, when the crucial test came, 
 relegate to a^future time the answer to his all absorb 
 ing question, had been to him as strange, as unexpected. 
 But, after all, when he remembered the clear-sighted 
 judgment she^had evinced, in her expressed views of
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 263 
 
 the incalculable importance of having such matters 
 examined with caution weighed with prudence, and 
 decided with justice, he could not refrain from compli 
 menting her good sense. As a culmination of their inter 
 view, he found himself in a narrow defile, from which 
 there was no satisfactory escape, unless Miss Rowdon 
 should herself open a way for his rescue. 
 
 Anxious expectancy is sure to grow restive over the 
 apparently tardy travel of time. That John Parsons 
 should have grown impatient, under the circumstances 
 that environed him, could not have been expected to be 
 otherwise. That he should have computed the short 
 ening of the time, as the hours of the day went by, 
 was a calculation, which he, who has passed through 
 the same kind of ordeal, can readily appreciate. That 
 he should have cloaked his anxiety, and have hidden 
 it beneath the active duties of a daily routine of 
 school work, showed the determination of the man. 
 
 By and by the week passed. The designated Sun 
 day came, in which a revelation of vastly important 
 matters to two interested persons was to be made. 
 With the first glint and glow of the sun, as he kissed 
 the opening day, Parsons was up and away to the 
 fields. For him, it was no day to loiter. There was 
 far too much, of tremendous moment to him, wrapped 
 up in the coming hours of the day, to allow him to 
 remain listlessly idle. He could do nothing, it was 
 true, by way of studying out a prologue to the speech 
 he would make. The inspiration which would come to 
 him, when the trial came, he determined should lead 
 him in all he had to say. 
 
 When the hour came in which he was to appear in 
 the presence of Miss Rowdon, to receive a sentence
 
 264 WHAT NEXT? OB 
 
 from which she had decreed there should be no appeal, 
 he had fully determined to stand the ordeal with stoic 
 fortitude. He confidently believed she had it in her 
 power to help him make of his life-work a success; for 
 neither had he been idle in his investigations of the 
 importance of the matters she had sought to settle for 
 herself. Because of her declaration, however, that 
 from her decision, when it should have been rendered,, 
 there should be no appeal, Parsons felt, that going into. 
 her presence, he would go very much as the poor 
 culprit goes into the presence of a tribunal of last 
 resort, to await, with trembling dread, the final finding 
 of that court. He determined, however, to be brave 
 not to cower before the uncertainty of impending fate 
 not to wince under the rendering of an unfavorable 
 verdict, and especially not to utter one word by way of 
 seeking a reversal of her decision when made. 
 
 Fortified by such resolves, at the designated hour, 
 on the appointed day, Parsons presented himself at 
 the Rowdon home. Miss Lunata met him with her 
 usual cordial grace, and pleasant reception. There 
 was, at no time, anything formal, straight-laced, or 
 stiff in the young lady s manners. Upon this occasion 
 her demeanor was so pleasantly agreeable, and so free 
 from even the appearance of reserve, that the sus 
 picions of Parsons were disarmed, and his fears gradu 
 ally removed. He believed the young lady admired 
 him, even if her admiration had not become so intensi 
 fied as to deserve the name of something more sacred 
 than mere mental admiration. He imagined that 
 she loved him. But imagination could not be con 
 sidered an approximation to knowledge. Even if she 
 loved him, she had somewhat adroitly laid an embargo
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 26 
 
 upon the revelation of that fact through tha t inarticu 
 late language that Parsons had so often declared told 
 no untruths. Under the circumstances, he was there 
 fore afraid that, even if she loved him, she might make 
 her affections subservient to the dictates of her reason, 
 and thereby, be induced to render her decision against 
 him. He recognized the existence of certain facts that 
 would plead loudly against his suit ; and, he recognized 
 as well, that if a pleading, backed by these facts, was 
 pushed upon the consideration of the young lady, he 
 would be barred from making any argument in his own 
 behalf. 
 
 Prof. Parsons was timid, but not cowardly. The 
 exegency of his present surroundings appealed loudly 
 to his manhood. He recognized that such was the fact, 
 and in the largeness of a big soul, resolved to show that 
 he could be equal to the emergency. He therefore 
 nerved himself for the ordeal, and at the proper time, 
 with the composure and self-poised complacency of 
 a hero, said to MissRowdon: "I have, by appoint 
 ment of your own, come to hear your decision, which 
 has been promised me on this day. I need not re-state 
 my case. It has been laid before you with all the 
 pathos which a hungry soul could give it. Were I to 
 attempt to reiterate any part of it. I think my fear of 
 defeat would paralyze my tongue. But I am largely 
 estopped from saying anything now. Your decree 
 makes me largely a mute in your presence. Being cut 
 off from any appeal in regard to the unrendered 
 decision, I am at your mercy. But I am not without 
 hope that I may be backed by a fortitude which will 
 not permit me to cower at any fate."
 
 366 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 "My answer is ready, Prof. Parsons; but I am 
 slightly puzzled for suitable language in which to 
 express it. To begin, however, let me say to you, 
 that you may dismantle yourself of any hovering doubt 
 which may hang over you, in regard to my making an 
 adverse decision in your case. I think I know you. 
 From ever} source that I could reach, I have studied 
 your general character and characteristics. Not only 
 during the week just passed, but during even- week 
 that has intervened between the present, and your 
 unheralded visit to our home, in the company of Miss 
 Watson, have I worked on this question. As a result of 
 that study, I now, in all candor, declare to you that it 
 would be an impossibility for me to render a verdict 
 against the man I love. M\ T heart s best and purest affec 
 tions are yours. Reason as I may against the existence of 
 this fact, the stubborn and unsubdued truth rises in con 
 tradiction to any appeal that dares lift itself against 
 the dictates of an honest confession." 
 
 "I have undoubting confidence in your declarations 
 of attachment for me, Prof. Parsons, and could not be 
 induced to believe that a young man of your age, and 
 with a reputation as unsullied as yours, could be 
 prompted by any other motive than honesty, in offering 
 to place his affections in my keeping. In dealing with one 
 therefore, who has placed his heart s trust in me, I would 
 recreant to every instinct of my nature, and ever power 
 of reason with which I have been gifted, were I to 
 practice anything else than strict honesty towards you. 
 You first made me the offering of a love that I had 
 coveted from the hour of our first meeting. I loved 
 you then. I love you now, and if the devotional 
 attachment which lives and burns upon the altar of my
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 267 
 
 heart for you, with all the constancy of a Vestal fire, is 
 any compensation for the weary week, through which 
 you say you have passed, my decision may bring you 
 quiet and restful ease." 
 
 "If simple, plain, unpretentious honesty is one of 
 Heaven s choicest virtues, I can but think, my dear 
 Miss^Rowdon, that, in the register of the great hereafter 
 will be found placed to your credit your honest deal 
 ings with a devoted, and I trust, with an equally 
 honest lover. Were I to undertake to tell you through 
 what I passed during the week just closed, it would be 
 a task that I could not finish, nor will you ever be able 
 to comprehend, in its fullness, my suffering. My 
 anxiety became, at times, so intensified that I seemed 
 to have lost the power of reasoning. My condition, 
 sleeping or waking, seemed to be so overpowered by 
 fear that I was indeed in a more alarmed condition 
 than he who shuddered under the impending sword of 
 Damocles." 
 
 "In requiring you to wait one week for my answer 
 to your petition, I was prompted by neither a spirit of 
 retaliation, nor by cruelty. I believed you were 
 perfectly honest in the avowals of your deep and 
 ardent attachment for me. Indeed, I hardly see how 
 one in my condition could have believed anything else. 
 We are so constituted that we are prone to make our 
 Avish parent to our thoughts. It would have been almost 
 murderous for one to have come to me, at any time since 
 Ihe first averment of your affection for me, and with 
 convincing evidence have proven that your assertions were 
 nugatory. It really hurt me, I think, Prof. Parsons, 
 to have to endure the painful anxiety of having to wait 
 for the time when you would come for your answer, as
 
 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 much as it annoyed you to do your waiting. But it is 
 all over now, and you can, I am sure, more readily 
 iorgive me for having you thus wait, than I can 
 forgive myself for imposing the penalty." 
 
 "The throbbing of my heart which seems to pulsate 
 to the music of a song the very melody of which is an 
 intonation of peace, would hardly now allow me to 
 complain of anything which is of the past. The future 
 The bright and glorious future, must now become the 
 subject for our consideration, and, in prediction con- 
 cerning that future, there can be no part of the 
 prophetic picture perfect that has not a place for you 
 to fill, my dear Miss Rowdon." 
 
 It is really flattering to my vanity, Prof. Parsons, 
 to have you thus speak. Weaving bright garlands for 
 future use, and labeling them with my name, it seems 
 to me is just a little premature. However, I will 
 overlook your enthusiasm, and will give you credit for 
 what you say, as the result of an impulsive but honest 
 heart. There are still m?ny things to be considered 
 many questions to be asked and answered possibly 
 troubles to be overcome, before you and I begin 
 together our flower-gathering." 
 
 "It is well, Miss Rowdon, that you can, for the 
 present at least, ignore the romantic, and come down to 
 the contemplation of living realities. Just now I am 
 too much elated for that. I am too proud of the 
 grand and glorious legacy that I have just fallen heir 
 to. Except something can be presented which has 
 connected therewith the loves and delights that a 
 freedom from withering anxiety and dubious suspense 
 brings, I care not to look into it now. I am too full of 
 a buoyant hope -at present for the investigation of any
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 269 
 
 matter-of-fact subject, and my dear Miss Rowdon, my 
 elation my exhilaration, and my supernal joy grew 
 out of your answer. I am unspeakably happy in the 
 knowledge that I am the owner the proprietor of your 
 priceless love. I am happy in the thought that the 
 realization of a glad expectancy will culminate in 
 joyous fruition. I am glad that memory holds the 
 photograph of a living ideal which I can now, in calm 
 and quiet delight, claim as all my own. What panacea 
 could be found that would bring greater relief to a soul 
 that pants for alleviation from doubt and uncertainty?" 
 
 "If, in the gladsome ebullition of a heart that is too 
 full to have its fullness held in check, I should seem 
 to be half wild, please forgive that exuberance, my 
 dear Miss Rowdon, and attribute it to the sudden 
 release of your lover from the captivity of a dreadful 
 suspense in which he has been held through weeks of, 
 painful solicitude. If I play the part of an inebriate, 
 remember my intoxication is the effect of a potion of 
 joy which I have quaffed from the cup you gave me." 
 
 "Is anything more than the revelations which each 
 of us has made to the other necessary to constitute an 
 engagement? If so, what is it? We are lovers. 
 There can no longer be any doubt on that point," said 
 Parsons. " When that admission is made, and then 
 fully interpreted, what is the interpretation? Is it not 
 betrothal ? If not, what further steps are necessary to 
 constitute an engagement ? Are these questions ger 
 mane pertinent and necessary to our more fully 
 understanding each other? My ignorance just here is 
 almost unpardonable, and I must ask your forgiveness, 
 Miss Rowdon, for my exhibit of a want of information 
 upon the point in question."
 
 270 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 "I presume, Prof. Parsons," said Miss Lunata, "that, 
 having made the admissions to each other that we 
 have, that a more perfect engagement could not be 
 made. Our having plighted constancy and unal 
 terable devotion to each other, it seems to me, would 
 be a verbal record which would stand the test of the 
 moral law. If I have consented to be yours, and you 
 have promised to accept the gift, and to live with a 
 view to a union at no very distant date, I cannot 
 understand how a more complete betrothal could be 
 accomplished. Does Heaven register the vows which 
 true arid loyal lovers make to observe a life-long con 
 stancy? If so, the union of our hearts has already 
 received the Divine sanction, and all that is left to be 
 done, as I take it, Professor, is to have our acts ratified 
 by a mere formality." 
 
 Have you thought about a time, Miss Rowdon, 
 when that formal ratification could take place?" asked 
 Parsons. "Have you any period in the future which 
 you think would be suitable to be celebrated by a 
 union of our hands ?" "Of course, Miss Rowdon, this, 
 the finishing part of our alliance, together with all 
 particulars connected therewith, mustbe left with 
 you." 
 
 "I will have to take this matter, Professor, under 
 most rigid scrutiny. It is an important step, as you 
 are aware, and, of course, ought to be taken cautiously 
 and prudently. Careful inquiry ought to be made into 
 the circumstances surrounding each of us. What may 
 lie between us and the consummation of our purpose, I 
 have no means of knowing. The future alone can, and 
 must answer this query. The important preliminaries 
 leading up to the question just sprung upon me, have
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 271 
 
 been about just as much as I could handle in one day, 
 and beyond the introduction and adjustment of these 
 preliminaries I have not dared to go. I am inclined to 
 the opinion, Prof. Parsons,, that, in coming to an agree 
 ment in regard to the last named question, there will 
 be difficulties to encounte,r and troubles to be waded 
 through that neither you nor I might suppose ought 
 to cut any figure in so important a matter. I therefore 
 counsel caution, circumspection and reticence in 
 regard to what has taken place between you and me. 
 Neither of us, for some time at least, should, in my 
 judgment, indulge ourselves in the pleasure of having 
 a confidant." 
 
 The remainder of the morning was spent in agree 
 able conversation, the greater part of which was a 
 recapitulation of all that had transpired since their 
 first meeting a frontispiece and introductory chapter 
 to a history which had yet to be written. 
 
 The excitement incident to the unburdening of a 
 soul of its wealth of affection had left the classic face 
 of Miss Rowdon as calm and peaceful as the unperturbed 
 slumber of sleeping innocence. The smile of soul- 
 approving quietude rested upon her features, and 
 beamed in silent satisfaction from her tell-tale eyes. 
 Miss Rowdon was happy. She had been constituted 
 and appointed sole guardian of a jewel which she 
 estimated to have a priceless value. For the confidence 
 thus reposed in her, she had mortgaged her all, and no 
 one could foreclose that mortgage save the sign-manual 
 of him who had made her the custodian of his affec 
 tions. 
 
 There was not as much composure and quiet resig 
 nation with Parsons as was manifested by Miss Rowdon.
 
 272 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 The flush of excitement played over his features. In 
 the very midst of rapturous delight he betrayed a 
 restless uneasiness which betokened the nervous excite 
 ment under which he was laboring. The conversation 
 was not spasmodic : still there were moments when he 
 would gaze listlessly into space, as though, with 
 strained vision, he would prophetically bid the future 
 be the present. The very glow that played over the 
 Professor s face, portrayed the ravishment of transport 
 that was holding high carnival in his soul. English 
 was a pauper dialect in which to express the sublimity 
 of his joy ; and yet he reveled in the glory of Miss 
 Rowdon s presence till the parting hour came. 
 
 Thinking that he had spent about as much time in 
 this visit as he could well afford to do, without the 
 possibility of awakening suspicion in some quarter, he 
 arose, and with knightly courtesy he took the hand of 
 Miss Rowdon in his own, and turning it palm upward, 
 he imprinted upon the soft, cushioned covering thereof 
 his first kiss of blessing, and with a kindly adieu, was 
 gone. 
 
 To undertake to follow the ruminations of Miss Lunata 
 Rowdon, after the departure of Prof. Parsons, would 
 be a perilous adventure, provided her thoughts had to 
 be imparted to words. Miss Rowdon had no confidant 
 save Parsons. She wanted no other, and as he was now 
 gone, she assumed the character of a monologist, and 
 soliloquised alone. 
 
 " As I take a retrospective look over a little more 
 than one twelve months of my life I am surprised 
 at myself. Yea more, I am surprised at everything 
 that has a bearing upon my own history. The young
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. v 273 
 
 man who has just now left my presence, came into 
 our neighborhood a stranger. A prejudice based upon 
 ignorance and which I was injudicious enough to speak 
 of, gossipers got hold of, and our home was tabooed by 
 the young Professor. That I had said anything to 
 offend him, I regretted ; not that I was, in any way, 
 interested in him, but because I disliked to give any 
 one pain. I recanted what I had said, and a fortuity 
 brought him to our home as a visitor. Not to see me 
 especially I am sure ; but his coming has eventuated, 
 
 so very strangely ! I saw him I studied him I 
 became entranced with his words Be still heart, while 
 
 1 say, I loved him too ! Yea, it soon came to pass 
 that my mind was engrossed with the almost continual 
 wonderment as to what I should do with my extrava 
 gant admiration for the young teacher. That he was 
 worthy, I had abundance of evidence to prove that 
 he was sprightly, I had myself discovered. To meet 
 him and talk with him became almost dangerous, lest 
 there might be some unintentional outcropping of my 
 attachment for him. 
 
 "No one had, up to the time of my meeting him, 
 ever knocked at the door of my heart, seeking to gain 
 admittance to my affections, that knocked with any 
 success. It is true that Aurelius Munson had long 
 shown his attachment for me, but with no success 
 whatever, but when Prof. Parsons put in his key to 
 the door of this waiting heart it flew wide open and 
 he became the accepted guest of my affections. How 
 strange ! how very strange are the incidents that 
 have culminated in my placing my hopes, my heart s 
 wealth, yea, my all in the keeping of Prof. Parsons ! 
 
 WHATJlNEXT? 1 8.
 
 274 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 "With the earnestness of a genuine and truly manly 
 nature he threw into his pleading all the pathos of an 
 excited lover. I held him at bay ; but, while doing so, 
 I was even more than anxious to show him how I 
 appreciated his wooing and how gladly I felt disposed 
 to help his importunity, and give him that for which 
 he pleaded. He eloquently asked for my heart and then 
 for my hand. I have given him the one and have prom 
 ised him the other. Important considerations have 
 now to be examined serious questions have now to 
 be disposed of ; and, if I mistake not, I apprehend 
 trouble, but he shall be mine nevertheless." 
 
 While Miss Rowdon was indulging in a soliloquy, 
 the larger part of which was with reference to the 
 strange and fortuitous incidents that had recently 
 transpired with her ; John Parsons was, for the 
 remainder of that Sunday afternoon, and until a very 
 late hour at night, engaged in the same character of 
 study as had occupied the mind of Miss Rowdon, and 
 which he too had been considering ever since he 
 quitted her presence. He was almost wildly jubilant 
 over the issue of his recent visit, and lest he should in 
 some way create a suspicion that he was overjoyed 
 over something that had recently been found to elate 
 him, and thereby put the curious on the hunt to dis 
 cover what it was, he betook himself to his room, and, 
 except while at his meals, played the part of a recluse. 
 But while alone his mind was, by no means, inactive. 
 As ID the case of Miss Rowdon, he was engaged in a 
 review of his life, and the incidents connected there 
 with since his advent into the Watson neighborhood. 
 
 After threading these incidents, one by one, he was 
 finally brought to the momentous period of the fore-
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 275 
 
 noon of that day a forenoon that was fraught with 
 more of the undeveloped purpose of his life than any 
 meeting which he had ever attended. He regarded it 
 as not only an important one to him, because of its 
 freeing him from a bewildering doubt, but because of 
 the happifying and restful state of mind in which the 
 issue of that meeting had left him. Fortune s wheel 
 had turned out for him a gift a priceless gift. He had 
 won the heart of Miss Lunata Rowdon. She had laid 
 it bare before him, and had astounded him with the 
 revelation she made. He had been rendered supremely 
 happy by an assurance that she not only confided to 
 him her affections, but had promised him, that in the 
 no distant future, she would give him her hand. That 
 she would start with him upon the sea of matrimony, 
 and, whether upon that sea the sailing should prove 
 smooth and pleasurable, or be tossed by storms and 
 beset by perils, as long as he was the pilot and did his 
 part well, she would have no fear that their vessel 
 would be wrecked. What a superior pilot, reasoned 
 she, to direct, guide, and be on the lookout for 
 dangerous breakers ; what consoling company incny 
 disaster, should disaster ever come ; what pure and 
 comforting companionship in the midst of prosperity. 
 
 With such a declaration, how could Parsons think 
 himself other than one of the most fortunate of men, 
 in securing by promise, a loving partner a safe coun 
 selor and a prudent wife. 
 
 No wonder that, under such circumstances, Parsons, 
 in the quietude of his own room, on that Sunday 
 afternoon, should have been in an ecstacy of delight. 
 Something had been promised him something in 
 retrospection kept that promise before him there was
 
 276 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 immeasurable joy in the contemplation of a boon 
 received there was rapturous satisfaction in the 
 thought that, in the no distant future, there would be 
 a placing of new marital vows upon the altar of the 
 son of Phoebus. 
 
 In the midst of Parsons meditations there was 
 another matter that came up for his consideration. 
 The horse of Aurelius Munson still continued to be 
 hitched in front of the Rowdon home, and gossip was 
 still rife in declaring that the time was rapidly drawing 
 on, when Munson and his new suit of clothes, 
 would lead the fair Lunata to a marital ceremony. This 
 long-time wooer had never had the slightest suspicion 
 lodged in his mind that any other lover held a better 
 or securer title to the love and affections of Miss 
 Lunata Rowdon than did he that no other pleader 
 for the right to call her his, would dare to intervene 
 between him and the prize for which he had so long 
 subjected his horse to the glare and heat of summer s 
 sun, of blanketing snow, of icy sleet and of winter s 
 biting winds. 
 
 Parsons felt some sympathy for Munson. His 
 untiring patience his unflagging perseverance through 
 all the months, weeks and days that he had paid 
 court to Miss Rowdon, he thought, worthy of admira 
 tion ; but there were two things for which he considered 
 him censurable. In the first place, he ought not to 
 have continued to press his claims upon the considera 
 tion of the young lady, after she had, in very explicit 
 terms, given him to understand that any offer from 
 him would be utterly useless. In the second place, he 
 ought to have had more manliness than to have urged 
 her to show him favor because of her father s wishes.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 277 
 
 The young preceptor was so firmly established in the 
 faith which he had in Miss Rowdon, that the hitching of 
 Munson s horse, in front of her home, gave him not the 
 slightest uneasiness. He therefore did nothing, nor said 
 anything, by which that gentleman should be awakened 
 to the fact that his courting Miss Rowdon had just as 
 well be brought to a close. 
 
 The Professor knew, that the time for a disclosure of 
 the truth in regard to Miss Rowdon s preference for 
 him, could not be very long concealed, and he knew as 
 well, that when the truth was divulged, it would lead 
 to trouble, probably through more sources than one, 
 and he did not feel disposed to introduce himself to 
 any trouble so long as he could avoid it. 
 
 Such was the train of thoughts that ran through the 
 young Professor s mind, as he sat in his room, and 
 pondered over his environments ; and, although he 
 knew there was a probability that some serious 
 entanglements would be encountered before the con 
 summation of his maturing purposes, he nevertheless 
 determined to bide his time with patience, and not to 
 allow any prospective trouble to interfere with his 
 faithful adherence to his professional duties, nor mar 
 his joy over the triumph he had so far achieved. Miss 
 Rowdon, he felt satisfied, would be his friend, let come 
 what might. With the approval of an honest con 
 science, he felt that nothing, in the way of a false 
 accusation, could possibly dethrone him from his place 
 in her affections. Untruths, he thought, would possi 
 bly be put in circulation and used to his detriment, 
 just as soon as Munson discovered that the young lady 
 was disposed to look with any degree of favor upon
 
 278 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 the attentions of one whom he would consider as an 
 invader upon his rights. 
 
 Parsons considered the position in which he was 
 placed, as one which would make it necessary for him 
 to practice discretion rather than valor. He therefore 
 determined to turn a deaf ear to every criticism which 
 might be indulged in, by those whom Munson might 
 array against him, unless something should be said, 
 that impinged upon his moral character. In that 
 event, he would hold the calumniator to a strict 
 personal account at all hazards. 
 
 The chief delight and happifying study which 
 occupied the mind of Parsons on that Sunday after 
 noon and night, was the recapitulation of what had 
 transpired within the past twenty-four hours; still, he 
 did not allow even this exhilerating theme to render 
 him oblivious to the fact that the sterner duties of a 
 life which he proposed soon to assume should not 
 receive a due amount of consideration. Having become 
 the custodian of the affections of a young lady who 
 had nobly and grandly inducted him into the office, 
 and having received from her own honest lips the 
 promise that she would soon transfer to his care her 
 all; he thought that it would be necessary, very soon, 
 that he should be interesting himself in regard to 
 giving her a home which might worthily shelter her, 
 and where the two might, with calm delight, enjoy, in 
 full fruition, their earnest aims and honest desires. 
 
 The question had been asked Miss Lunata upon 
 which hinged his chances for future happiness she 
 had answered that question, and with the answer thereof, 
 the future had grown luminous with the pictures of hap 
 piness, which Hope hung up everywhere in John s
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 
 
 pathway, and he busied himself in examining these 
 pictures, under the effect of every light and shade to 
 which he could possibly expose them. As these 
 pictures were created and studied, the flush of heightened 
 color indicated that he was aroused to action, but that 
 the flush was nevertheless the glow of gladness. Why 
 should it have been otherwise ? He had his ideal, and in 
 the person of Miss Lunata Rowdon he had found all 
 the attributes that went to make up the impersonation 
 of that ideal. The wooing had been just such honest, 
 straight-forward avowals as to place it beyond the 
 reach of duplicity. It had been sufficiently pure to 
 entitle their declaration to be registered in a Court 
 over which angels preside. 
 
 When an important verbal contract has been 
 entered into between two persons having the most 
 implicit confidence in each other, there is an unwritten 
 register the tablet of truth and honor, whereon is 
 inscribed, in indellible characters, the act of plighted 
 faith ; and that the terms of that contract will be most 
 religiously complied with. Between Miss Rowdon and 
 himself, Parsons felt that such a contract had been 
 made, the stipulations of which were neither intricate 
 nor lengthy. It was verbal, but Parsons believed it to 
 be just as valid as if it had been embossed upon purest 
 parchment, and consigned for safe-keeping among the 
 archives of a commonwealth. No outside wtnesses 
 were present to attest the terms of agreement. It was 
 not necessary. Honesty, such as characterized this 
 sacred convenant, does not need that a prying espion 
 age shall be ever on the look-out to find a wrong in 
 something which has been done. Honesty of purpose 
 had been the director in every move which Parsons had
 
 280 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 made, from the time he was introduced to Miss 
 Rowdon upon the veranda of her father s home by 
 Miss Lena Watson, to the time of his placing the seal 
 of a sacred contract, in the kiss which he had that 
 morning left upon the upturned palm of her delicately 
 cushioned hand. He was not afraid. In the quiet 
 deliberations of his Sunday afternoon s study, he had 
 strengthened his hope, allayed his apprehensions and 
 confirmed his faith, in his ultimate success, and for 
 a time his earnest recapitulations and his prophetic 
 anticipations were discontinued ; when he again asked 
 What Next ?
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 In this perverted age, 
 
 Who most deserve, can t always most engage: 
 So far is worth from making glory sure, 
 It often hinders what it should procure." 
 
 Young. 
 
 RESTFUL sleep for the night brought Parsons to 
 the light of the morning, refreshed, and with a 
 L jk mind at ease. With the final settlement of the 
 question, which, upon investigation, was found 
 to have been occupying not only the deliberations of 
 the young Professor, but had also been weighing heavily 
 upon the mind of Miss Rowdon, there had crept a 
 peaceful and quiescent mental state upon each, which 
 neither had experienced, since the first visit which 
 Parsons made to the Rowdon s. 
 
 When he started that morning to his school; while 
 winding his way across a beautiful piece of timber-land, 
 through which he was accustomed to pass, the young 
 teacher thought the very blue of the bended heavens 
 stretched itself away in a more graceful parabola than 
 was its wont the trees seemed to him to wave in 
 more resplendent beauty than he had ever noticed 
 before. There was a soft cadence in the music that 
 sighed amid the foliage of the swaying trees that had 
 not hitherto caught the attention of his ears. Can 
 it be that unseen faries have tuned their harps and are 
 playing a glad refrain in celebration of my triumph ? 
 The air, Parsons thought, seemed to be ladened with 
 a larger share of fragrance than usual. The sweet 
 perfume of flowers seemed to rise about him on every 
 hand. The birds, singing in orchestral symphony 
 amid their woodland bowers, lifted their chorus in
 
 282 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 brighter songs than he had hitherto noted, and John 
 Parsons no longer envied them their happiness, for he 
 was happy too. 
 
 It is somewhat wonderful how the emotions of the 
 human soul are influenced by the surroundings. Like 
 the thermometer, in which the mercury is ever driven 
 between the extremes of heat and cold; the soul has 
 its emotions that oscillate between a glorious gladness 
 and the harrowing darkness of a dismal sorrow. A 
 bright and cheery outlook, such as spread itself before 
 the vision of Prof. Parsons, on this particular morning, 
 had carried his emotions to such a height that they 
 could hardly be kept from overflowing in one wild 
 rapturous song of exultant joy a song whose rhyme 
 and meter would each have conspired to make it a song 
 of supreme gladness. 
 
 After the recent meeting which Parsons had had 
 with Miss Rowdon, and the felicitous results of that 
 meeting had transpired, it cannot be a matter of sur 
 prise that the young man was in love with everything 
 the world held that was beautiful. Miss Rowdon was 
 the crowning glory of the world s attractions for him. 
 He loved her she was beautiful, and his aesthetic 
 taste made him a worshiper of beauty she was gener 
 ous and he considered her generosity as an attribute 
 which allied her to divinity, and therefore worthy of 
 semi-adoration. Her magnanimity, her honesty, and 
 her unselfishness he regarded as a combination of rare 
 attributes, and, because of them, he admired her the 
 more. With all these to adorn the young lady, it is 
 not wonderful that his expressions of devotional 
 attachment for her having been fully reciprocated, he
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 283 
 
 should have found himself in love with everything 
 that would have constituted a theme for the minstrel s 
 lay, or an inspiration for the pen of the bard. 
 
 Let the kind reader be not too critical, nor complain 
 of the sentimentalism which is couched herein. Unless 
 the spiritual nature the veritable ego the real self, 
 has been rendered misanthropic through some heart 
 disappointment, or mayhap have had the higher sensi 
 bilities of nature blunted by an avaricious bargain-and- 
 sale matrimonial alliance ; it will not be hard to call 
 up from the past, something akin to the sentimental- 
 ism manifested by Prof. Parsons and Miss Lunata 
 Rowdon. Young people are more enthusiastic than 
 the old. Their blood makes its rounds with more 
 exhilarating rapidity, and they are therefore more given 
 to having the emotions lead them than are the old . It is a 
 difficult task to put old heads upon young shoulders , 
 as the adage goes, but it ought not to be hard for 
 memory to call up the days of excitement, of unrest, 
 of expectancy, through which you passed and which 
 half-divested you of the power of reason. Remember 
 ing this, you can readily offer your own case to plead 
 an excuse for Parsons sentimentalism. Possibly the 
 complaining reader may be a case-hardened specimen 
 of the genus homo, whose soul has been too much 
 engrossed with opinionated flattery of himself to dis 
 cover either rhyme or reason in the conduct of the 
 young Professor. To such a reader it might be 
 suggested, that a heart which can neither be moved by 
 pity, nor love anything else than self, adverse criticism 
 upon the part of the critic of a case like the one which 
 is presented in this volume, is but an advertisement 
 that the smallness of that soul, makes loving an impos 
 sibility.
 
 284 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 Allusion has heretofore been made to the general 
 character of the family with which young Parsons 
 boarded. Plainness, frugality and kindness, were the 
 leading features of the family generally. The ignor 
 ance of the three young men in the Watson family was 
 a matter of surprise to young Parsons ; especially, 
 when their ignorance was compared with the general 
 intelligence of the two grown daughters. Alf Watson, 
 the eldest of the sons, was a coarse, rough, rugged kind 
 of creature who did not live with the home family, but 
 who made it a weekly visit. Notwithstanding the 
 ignorance of the last mentioned Watson, he was not 
 conscious of his mental inferiority, but arrogated to 
 himself an importance which his ignorance rendered 
 exceedingly absurd. Alf. Watson gave Parsons con 
 siderable trouble, in consequence of his having a desire 
 to make of him a kind of chum or especial friend. 
 He wanted to visit with Parsons and be introduced by 
 him into society. All of this was, of course, very dis 
 tasteful to Parsons, and yet, for fear of offending the 
 family, he did show Alf. some kindness, and in a few 
 instances introduced him to young ladies. 
 
 While the young men of the Watson household 
 w r ere by no means suited to be the companions of Prof. 
 Parson, still, for the sake of the rest of the family, he 
 treated them kindly, and without any familiarity kept 
 their esteem. He appreciated the uniform kindness of 
 Mrs. Watson and her two daughters. They made his 
 surroundings as pleasant and agreeable as they could 
 be made by their contributions to his comfort. In 
 other words, the Watson home suited Parsons as a place 
 in which -to study books, but was a disadvantageous 
 location in which to to studv the muses. It was an
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 285 
 
 excellent place to hear the common gossip that might 
 be afloat in the neighborhood, but a place illy suited, 
 even among its honest-hearted household of women, to 
 seek to make confidants. They talked too much. A 
 common predisposition to garrulity was one of the chief 
 faults of the family. Parsons having discovered this, 
 determined, therefore, to be ever on his guard. 
 
 It had not entered the mind of Prof. Parsons that 
 anj one had heard enough of what had taken place 
 between him and Miss Rowdon, to build thereon the 
 report that he had become an acceptable wooer of 
 the young lady, nor that she was thinking very 
 much more favorably of his semi-occasional visits, 
 than of the almost daily calls which one Aurelius 
 Munson was still making. Parsons knew, that, having 
 counseled prudent reticence upon his part, Miss Lunata 
 would not think of intrusting their secret to any one, 
 and how any one had discovered enough to justify a 
 suspicion that he had a deep and growing interest in 
 the young lady an interest which was exceedingly 
 threatening to the suit of Mr. Munson, was more than 
 he could divine. 
 
 Such a suspicion had been aroused, and, as was 
 subsequently learned, it had been aroused by an 
 innocent and inadvertant remark of one of the younger 
 sisters of Miss Lunata ; and, from that remark, Parsons 
 became, to some extent, at least, the target for the 
 common gossip monger and was brought under the 
 suspicion of Miss Lunata s father. In consequence of 
 the solicitude which Mr. Rowdon felt in the ultimate 
 union of his daughter with Munson, he instituted a 
 kind of inquisitorial arrangement whereby he might 
 ascertain what Parsons visits to his daughter meant..
 
 286 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 Upon first hearing the rumor, he felt somewhat dis 
 posed to go directly to his daughter and learn the facts 
 from her, but subsequently determined upon a different 
 course. 
 
 A few days after the last recorded meeting between 
 the Professor and Miss Lunata, a conversation had 
 been held between Miss Watson and himself, in which 
 she informed him that it was currently reported in the 
 neighborhood that Aurelius Munson had grown very 
 suspicious of his attentions to Miss Rowdon, and that 
 Munson s jealously had put him upon the alert, that 
 he might discover, if possible, the intention of these 
 visits. But Miss Watson was careful to have the 
 Professor understand that the information imparted 
 was because of her personal friendship for him ; and 
 that he being thus forewarned, might be forearmed. She 
 told him that being advised as to what was taking 
 place, she thought he would be able to meet and defeat 
 any effort which Munson might set on foot, with a view 
 to making further discoveries. 
 
 The advice which Miss Rowdon had left with 
 Parsons rendered him more circumspect and wary than 
 he would probably have otherwise been ; and, without 
 manifesting any special interest in the communicated 
 information, or even deigning to make any criticism 
 upon what she had told him, he kindly thanked Miss 
 Lena for her generously imparted knowledge, and for 
 the interest she had thereby manifested in him, and 
 then waived the further consideration of the subject. 
 
 The suspicion, awakened in the mind of Munson, as 
 reported by Miss Watson, even if he had had unmis 
 takable proof of its truth, would not have been a 
 matter of any surprise to John Parsons. In fact, had
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 287 
 
 the existence of any claim upon the part of Munson to 
 the especial consideration of Miss Rowdon been found 
 to exist, the surprise would have been, over the fact 
 that the cry of jealousy had not been started sooner. 
 
 Whether the investigations of the long-time wooer 
 resulted in any confirmations of his suspicions or not, 
 at any rate, the hitching of that self same horse con 
 tinued to attract the attention of Prof. Parsons, every 
 day or two, as he passed to and from his school. 
 Familiar as the sight became, however, he was only 
 disposed to wonder at Munson s persistency even in 
 face of the repeated and stubborn refusals of Miss 
 Rowdon to consider his visits in any other light than as 
 a friend, and to gratify her father. The frequency of his 
 visits seemed to be only an advertisement of his 
 ignorance, and if Miss Lunata could have been per 
 mitted to exercise her own will in the matter, she 
 would have politely, but peremptorily ordered him to 
 cease his tri-weekly calls. Especially would she have 
 been pleased to resort to this course, after her engage 
 ment to Parsons; but she feared that in pursuing such 
 a course, she might arouse the ire of her father, and 
 thereby defeat a purpose which was intended for good. 
 
 In the midst of all that the many-mouthed gossips 
 were engaged in distributing throughout the country 
 in the face of what the Watson women were saying to 
 him, from time to time, about the danger he incurred in 
 attemping to jostle Munson from a position of fancied 
 security, Parsons moved quietly forward in the full dis 
 charge of his professional duties. But, amid it all, he 
 turned neither an unwary eye nor a deaf ear to what 
 was taking place about him. He had a shrewd, sharp, 
 discriminating intellect and allowed everybody to say
 
 288 WHAT ISTEXT? OK 
 
 what they pleased about his attentions to Miss Rowdon r 
 without denying, or sanctioning anything that was said. 
 He exhibited a sufficiency of self-reliance to ask no 
 one where certain reports had their origin, and was 
 sufficiently independent to have his bearing show that 
 he detested a cringing servilitj . He bowed to no one 
 to win popularity. He coveted esteem, but wanted it 
 to come to him as a mark of merit. He desired to be 
 popular, but wanted a popularit3 r that was based upon 
 manly conduct and honest worth. 
 
 Another week passed, and again the Professor did 
 himself the very great pleasure of making Miss Rowdon 
 a visit. Talk about too much sentimentalism 
 indeed ! Where could two individuals, with surround 
 ings such as encompassed John Parsons and Miss 
 Lunata Rowdon be found who would not be disposed 
 to do just what these young people did, when they 
 met upon this occasion ? Do you blame them or even 
 criticise them for calling up memories of the past 
 about which there clustered the brightest joys upon 
 which their minds had ever feasted ? Do you censure 
 them for renewing their vows of eternal constancy? 
 Do you criticise them for setting their seal upon the 
 immutable decree, that they would live for each other? 
 Do you cry sentimentalism, because these two ardent 
 and devotional lovers renewed their pledges to prepare 
 to embark together at no distant day upon a matrimo 
 nial venture to tempt the winds and try the storms of 
 life together, let come what might? Do you answer 
 all these queries, or any one of them, in the affirmative ? 
 If you do, then the fountain of youthful aspirations 
 must have been eliminated from your nature, or if 
 there was ever an impression made upon your soul, by
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 289 
 
 the gladsome smile and acknowledged beauty of a fair 
 woman, the fountain of that soul s real worth has 
 surely become a " broken cistern" and has irremedi 
 ably lost its power of holding an appreciation of beauty 
 or moral worth. 
 
 After the conversation had been continued for some 
 time, during this hebdomadal visit, the two walked to 
 the front door of the parlor, and still continuing their 
 talk, Miss Rowdon remarked to Parsons, that she 
 believed she had heard him say he was opposed to 
 wearing jewelry upon his hands especially large, gaudy 
 and brilliantly stone-set rings. This being the case, 
 said she, I desire to take this light, plain gold ring 
 from my own hand and put it upcn yours. Suiting the 
 action to the words, she removed the ring from her own 
 hand and slipped it upon the third finger of Parsons 
 left hand, and, while doing so, remarked that she wanted 
 him to wear it as a symbol of her verbal pledge. In 
 its plainness, she told him, it would symbolize the 
 unostentatious love of her young life. In its purity it 
 would emblemize the character of the affection her 
 poor heart would lavish upon him. In its endless 
 circuit, it would betoken the ceaseless rotation of the 
 years through which both of them might possibly be 
 spared to live, and during which time she intended to 
 love him ever. 
 
 "The qualifying epithets, Miss Rowdon, which I 
 have heretofore used in addressing you," said Prof. 
 Parsons, "are too tame too cold too inexpressive. I 
 would fain use something more directly indicative of 
 the new relation that exists between us. Let me use 
 some form of expression that contains more of tender- 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 19.
 
 290 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 ness. Your gift demands this. Let me. therefore, 
 address you as my present impulses would suggest. Let 
 the sublimity of my devotion for you have its way. Yea, 
 let my tongue, in accents of tenderness, use a qual 
 ifying expression that is justly yours, from me. Let 
 me say, my dear Miss Lunata. You will not, I am 
 sure, consider this too familiar. You are certainly a 
 heroine of no mean pretentious. From such a brave spirit 
 I can gladly accept the gift presented me,, with all the 
 symbolization which you have appended thereto and so 
 handsomely explained. Plainness ; purity ; endlessness! 
 This covers the whole case. May the Ruler of Sweep 
 ing Justice keep me and the emblematic token insep- 
 erable. 
 
 In the conference which took place during this meet 
 ing, something looking to the preliminaries that must 
 necessarily precede the union of their hands in the sol 
 emnization of a holy wedlock were freely discussed; but, 
 after all the pro s and con s had been considered, it 
 was finally decided that it would be the best and safest 
 policy to postpone the consideration of anything look 
 ing to the final consummation of their wishes, to a 
 future time. The reasons, which were adduced by 
 Miss Rowdon for this conclusion, were so pertinent and 
 so cogent, that Parsons yielded thereto a ready and 
 willing assent. 
 
 In the course of their conversation, Prof. Parsons 
 incidentally mentioned the note of warning which Miss 
 Lena Watson had sounded in his ears in regard to the 
 aroused suspicions of Aurelius Munson. Upon this 
 information a slight shadow flitted across the face of 
 Miss Rowdon but soon disappeared. The only com 
 ment she made in regard to this news, was, that if it
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 291 
 
 were true, she feared it boded evil to him, and possibly 
 trouble to her as well. The Professor had not thought 
 the information he had received from Miss Watson was 
 of any special importance, and hence it had given him 
 but little concern. When, however, he saw that pass 
 ing shadow settle for the moment upon the usually 
 placid face of Miss Rowdon, he became at once 
 interested in getting at the cause of that transient 
 shadow. Being disposed to press her as to whether 
 she attached any special importance to the news which 
 he had received from Miss Watson, she very adroitly 
 foiled him in his inquiry, by saying: "Never mind; 
 trouble comes soon enough, without our running out 
 to meet it." 
 
 It was very evident that Miss Lunata saw, in what 
 Miss Watson had communicated to the Professor, a 
 kind of prophecy of evil evil such as she did not feel 
 disposed to reveal to him evil from a source, which, 
 if not averted, would give immeasurable pain to her, 
 and fill him with chagrin and justifiable contempt. 
 
 What to do, or what disposition to make of the 
 impending trouble was a problem, with the solution of 
 which, she felt herself unable to cope. Poor Lunata ! 
 How her heart throbbed in anxious solicitude, when 
 she saw there was destined to be a scene of serious 
 trouble, whenever it became apparent that she had not 
 the slightest idea of listening to the addresses of the per 
 sistent Munson. Her father she knew had considered 
 her, BO far, as over young to marry, and had conse 
 quently never mentioned the matter of a matrimonal 
 alliance between her and his friend Munson ; but she 
 knew, that should he learn she had a partiality for the 
 young Professor, he would raise a trouble with her, and
 
 292 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 this she could not even contemplate without a shudder. 
 Her father had always been especially kind to her, and 
 the prospect, of an estrangement from him, was a 
 thing she could hardly bear to think of. She had but 
 little doubt that her father, just as soon as he discov 
 ered that Prof. Parsons had been paying occasional 
 visits to her, would conclude that these visits had 
 broken in upon his cherished plans, and the full 
 amount of his ire would be visited upon the unoffend 
 ing and unsuspecting young teacher. She knew, full 
 well, that if the jealousy of Munson had been 
 sufficiently aroused, to induce him to believe that the 
 time for his hitching his horse in front of her home 
 had about passed, he would be sure to devise some 
 plan by which her father would be informed of the 
 danger of losing his daughter, and gaining as a son-in- 
 law, a young man without means, and without any 
 rich kin. Miss Lunata was in a very great deal of 
 uneasiness over what she w r as apprehensive would be a 
 stirring trouble in her home, and possibly a trouble 
 outside of her home, between her father and Professor 
 Parsons. That any outside trouble would occur, previ 
 ous to a full understanding by her father, of the 
 condition of affairs between Munson and herself, as 
 well as between Prof. Parsons and herself, she did not 
 suspect, and only hoped that something might occur 
 which would prevent an impending calamity. 
 
 A few weeks after the incidents recorded in the 
 three or four preceeding paragraphs, Prof. Parsons met 
 Miss Rowdon at a country church a great place for the 
 assembling of a large congregation, and for an unusually 
 large gathering of young people. Parsons was among 
 the visitors, and, having discovered that Miss Rowdon
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 293 
 
 "was present, wrote a request upon a card and had it 
 passed to her in the church, asking the privilege of 
 escorting her home. As soon as she had read the note, 
 and discovered that he was watching her, she nodded 
 an assent. 
 
 With the conclusion of the services, Parsons assisted 
 Miss Rowdon to mount her horse, and, after waiting a 
 lew moments for three young ladies and their attend 
 ants, who were to accompany Miss Lunata home, the 
 double quartette started at a lively gait along the 
 highway. Upon reaching the home of Mr. Henry 
 Rowdon, he met the guests with becoming Kentucky 
 hospitality, as far as was discernible to the company 
 generally. His reception of Parsons, however, was, by 
 no means, what it ought to have been. The keen 
 preceptive faculties of the young teacher discovered at 
 once that there was a wrong somewhere. While the 
 other young men who were present had noticed noth 
 ing unusual in his deportment towards any one of his 
 guests, Parsons had. It is true, Mr. Rowdon s slight 
 was disguised, and, as the Professor rightly surmised, 
 was intended for him. His high-spirited pride was 
 wounded, but he was wholly without any means of 
 redress. He was even barred from making inquiry as 
 to whether the offense was intended or only an inadvert 
 ency. He believed he had the key to Mr. Rowdon s 
 conduct, but was not confident. His face flushed; his 
 ears burned ; his heart throbbed, but otherwise he 
 showed himself to be a man "for a that." 
 
 The conclusions which Parsons drew in regard to the 
 affront offered him, were reached by the interpretation 
 which he gave to the peculiar conduct of Miss Lunata s 
 father upon the arrival of the young ladies and gentle-
 
 294 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 men who had accompanied his daughter home from 
 church, and who, according to the hospitable custom 
 of that time in Kentucky, had been invited home with 
 Miss Rowdon, with the expectation of their remaining 
 to partake of a bountiful dinner that awaited their 
 arrival. From the reception which parsons received at 
 the hands of the host, he was not slow in deciding that 
 he, at least, had not been expected. That he might 
 free himself from the possible imputation of acting 
 upon a suspicion, he decided to put the matter to a 
 test by quitting the company as it was about ready to 
 repair to the dining room. He well knew that the 
 rules of hospitality, when he indicated his purpose to 
 leave, would make it incumbent upon Mr. Rowdon to 
 politely insist upon his remaining to dinner. If Mr. 
 Rowdon failed to make this exhibition of the rules 
 of ordinary etiquette, the Professor could rest assured 
 that his interpretations of the actions of the host would 
 be altogether correct. He would, if such marked 
 indifference were shown him, know that for some reason, 
 as yet to be explained, Mr. Rowdon s feelings toward 
 him had undergone a very marked change. The ruse 
 to discover what was possibly a suspicion, when tested, 
 developed the fact that Mr. Rowdon had found an 
 imperfection in Parsons, sufficient to bar him from 
 being invited to remain for dinner. This was enough, 
 and the chagrin and mortification of the } T oung teacher 
 was inexpressibly severe. He at once excused himself 
 to the young company, and, donning his overcoat, with 
 hat in hand, he politely bowed himself out of their 
 midst and was gone. 
 
 As the Professor crossed the threshold of the Rowdon 
 mansion, he carried with him the conviction that he
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 295 
 
 had done nothing to justify any such treatment. That 
 he desired to play the part of a true gentleman, and 
 that he had succeeded in doing so, since his advent 
 into that community, was almost universally conceded. 
 But, he was now confronted, as he thought, with the 
 decision by one person at least, that a correct life 
 unadorned by the fortuitous gifts of Plutus amounted 
 to nothing that moral and mental worth were no 
 longer requisites worthy of [commendation that pass 
 ports to good society were plethoric purses of gold or a 
 good sized bank deposit that indemnity, against mis 
 treatment, was insured by a title to a specified number 
 of acres of land that brains were at a discount gentle 
 manly politeness below par honesty a myth and 
 education valueless. 
 
 In the intercourse which Prof. Parsons had so far 
 had with the world, no one would have thought of 
 styling him a society man. He was popular because 
 he had all the requisites to render him popular. He 
 was, as we have already discovered, a gentleman by 
 birth, a scholarly devotee of everything beautiful, and 
 was recognized as in every way worthy of the highest 
 commendation by the best people in the land. Indeed 
 he was not only courteously and kindly received by the 
 best people, but was often toasted by the very best 
 society in the country. It is therefore not a matter of 
 surprise that he should have felt the keen smart of a 
 painful mortification, at being slighted by Mr. Henry 
 Rowdon. 
 
 In addition to the mistreatment which the Professor 
 had received at the hands of Lunata s father, simply 
 from want of a just appeciation of the very qualities 
 that belong to true manhood, the stunning fact stared
 
 296 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 him in the face that this was the father s first manifes 
 tation of a disapprobation of his being recognized as 
 the friend of his daughter. He therefore saw in this 
 act the foreshadowing of an amount of trouble that 
 might possibly culminate in his complete overthrow, 
 so far as his being able to carry forward the purposes 
 decreed between him and Miss Rowdon were concerned. 
 If the young lady remained true to her declarations, he saw 
 no way to avert the coming, sooner or later of an open rup 
 ture between the father and daughter. With this, as the 
 outlook, he grew sad. He was confident that Miss 
 Lunata had noticed the slight of her father, and won 
 dered what effect it would have upon her. Would her 
 filial devotion to her father sanction his rash act, or 
 would she sympathize with him ? This question seemed 
 to almost burn itself into his mind, and yet there was 
 no way out of the dilemma. 
 
 He took the matter home with him. He anxiously 
 pondered over it for hours, and at length concluded that 
 the best policy to be pursued, under the existing state of 
 affairs, would be to disarm, if possible, the suspicion 
 which had been aroused in the mind of Mr. Rowdon. 
 To accomplish this, he thought it would be absolutely 
 necessary that he relinquish, ostensibly, all claims to 
 the especial friendship of Miss Lunata. This conclu 
 sion he decided to communicate to her clandestinely. 
 He believed it would meet her approbation, for 
 she knew the affront he had received would be a per 
 petual bar to his visiting her at home. But he believed 
 as well that she would remain true to her vows true 
 to the expressions of deep rooted devotion which 
 she had evinced for him true to her pledges, even 
 if in so doing she challenged the frowns of an
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 297 
 
 irate father true to her expression of admiration 
 for the qualities which she had so often claimed 
 were indicative of manhood, honor, and moral worth. 
 Yea, with unalterable fidelity, true to every principle 
 of right, even if in so doing she brought herself into 
 open antagonism with unwarranted prejudice. 
 
 In addition to the crushing fact that Mr. Rowdon, 
 as the father of the young lady who had become the 
 idol of Parsons devotional admiration, might give that 
 idol serious trouble, came also the thought, that the 
 shrine whereon his most devout oblations had been 
 -offered, would, by her father, if possible, have its fires 
 extinguished. He said "7 possible," for he did not 
 believe the father s authority was sufficiently potent to 
 change any resolve his daughter had made. 
 
 In addition to the trouble already preying upon the 
 mind of Parsons, there had come upon him the 
 humiliating discovery, that other young men, with 
 no higher claim to kind consideration or polite treat 
 ment than he had, were preferred before him that 
 other men with no better passports into good society 
 than he had, were hospitably entertained, while he had 
 been snubbed, because forsooth, he had a high appre 
 ciation of gentlemanly deportment and strict integrity 
 that other men, with no cleaner record than he carried, 
 should outrank him in the estimation of a man, who, 
 for sordid reasons, was willing to sacrifice a daughter s 
 wishes, by having her wed a boor and weep through 
 life. 
 
 The other young men who were visitors at the- 
 Rowdon mansion, upon the before mentioned Sunday 
 afternoon, were nice gentlemen; but the puzzling 
 thought in the mind of Parsons was, as to what any of
 
 298 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 them had to commend him to the kind treatment and 
 urbane hospitality of Mr. Henry Rowdon more than had 
 he. Each .of them was a dry goods salesman an 
 honorable calling surely. Each of them dressed well 
 no one, I presume, would have challenged their right 
 to buy such clothes as suited them. Each of them was 
 said to have sprung from honorable parentage, and one 
 of them traced a pedigree through several generations, 
 to a family of aristocrats in the "Old Dominion." But 
 neither of them had any gold-lined recommendation, 
 whereby they expected to pave their way into public 
 favor. Each of these young men were poor, but 
 honest; each depended, forself-maintainance, upon w r hat 
 he received as a salaried day laborer. Parsons, know 
 ing these facts, could but start the inquiry as to what 
 it was that made any one of these clever young men 
 better than he ; and, having started the question, he 
 found the answer to it in the fact that no one of them 
 had created the suspicion that his visits were made 
 with the view of capturing the affections of his daughter, 
 and thereby spoiling a cherished plan of having her 
 wed Aurelius Munson. 
 
 So far as visiting Miss Rowdon in her home was con 
 cerned, Parsons had fully decided that to be a foregone 
 conclusion, at the time of his last visit ; but with equal 
 promptness he fully determined that he would devise 
 some plan by which he could still communicate with 
 her, and, whereby, he could occasionally see her in 
 person. He stoutly maintained that some way out of 
 a difficulty which he thought was possibly yet in its 
 incipiency, must be discovered. What that way was, 
 he had not yet worked out, and was consequently unpre 
 pared to take any steps. To stand still seemed hazardous
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 299 
 
 to make any move appeared fraught with danger. In 
 the midst of this indeterminate state of mind, Parsons 
 decided to hold the matter in abeyance until he could 
 have a personal conference with Miss Rowdon, or com 
 municate with her by letter. He had concluded that 
 there must be some means devised whereby the suspi 
 cions of Mr. Rowdon could be allayed, at any rate, 
 temporarily ; but, as to what means could be set on 
 foot to accomplish that purpose, he decided was some 
 thing to be determined after conference with Miss 
 Lunata. 
 
 That Parsons and Miss Lunata were both in great 
 trouble goes without saying. Separated as they were, 
 and with no means as yet of holding any intercourse 
 either verbal or written, it can easily be imagined that 
 the minds of both were most earnestly engaged about 
 the same things. Each was trying to work out some 
 plan by which the treasured wishes of their hearts 
 could be consummated and still danger and trouble be 
 averted. 
 
 Reviewing the circumstances which had lately trans 
 pired, and recapitulating the whole of what had been 
 said and done by himself or Miss Rowdon within the 
 last few weeks, Parsons could not prevent the associa 
 tion of Mr. Rowdon s recent unfriendly conduct towards 
 him, with the report which came to him through Miss 
 Watson, concerning the suspicion and jealousy which 
 had been aroused in the mind of Aurelius Munson. 
 He necessarily associated this information with the 
 idea that Munson had either directly or indirectly 
 communicated some kind of information to Mr. Row 
 don which led to his being slighted by that gentleman. 
 He remembered that the prediction of Miss Lunata,,
 
 BOO WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 when Miss Watson s information was communicated 
 to her, was that this suspicion boded evil for herself 
 and probably for him as well. He knew that apart of 
 that fear had been verified in his mistreatment, and as 
 to how much had been visited upon the head of Miss 
 Lunata he had not as yet ascertained. 
 
 Parsons was in trouble, and oh ! how he longed to 
 lay those troubles before Mis? Lunata and in mutual 
 sympathy find comfort. But he could not see her and 
 in sorrowing sadness he asked What Next ?
 
 CHAPTER XVI, 
 
 "Dost them deem 
 
 It such an easy task from the fond breast 
 To root affections out?" 
 
 Southey. 
 
 Think st thou that I could bear to part 
 From thee. and learn to halve my heart " 
 
 Byron. 
 
 IX the midst of the very strange state of affairs by 
 1 which Parsons found himself surrounded, he could 
 but feel that Fortune s fickle goddess was leading 
 him through a series of trials, as though she desired 
 to test the kind of material of which he was made.. 
 Never, for one moment, however, did he harbor the 
 thought that any extraneous influence or any coercive 
 agency could be possibly brought to bear which would 
 ultimately succeed in blasting the hopes that a plain, 
 gold ring, worn on the third ringer of his left hand, had, 
 by an interpreted symbolism v plainly, and most 
 emphatically decreed should never die. Parsons placed* 
 uncompromising belief in the prophetic declarations of 
 that ring, and confidently believed its symbolism to be 
 talismanic. But, while he believed all this to be true, 
 he could not close his eyes to the fact that he was 
 confronted by new and very serious trouble trouble 
 born of the opposition which, hue had discovered Mr. 
 Rowdon would offer to the attentions that he seemed 
 disposed to give to has daughter Lunata.. 
 
 It appeared that Mr. Rowdon had concluded to 
 adopt the plan usually pursued, under similar circum 
 stances, by objecting parents. It was this : that he 
 would handicap any growth oi mutual admiration, 
 between his daughter; and Prof. Parsons that he would 
 kill such a prospect in its incipiency. To, accomplish.
 
 302 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 this, he sought, through an act of half-hidden mistreat 
 ment, to erect an insuperable bar to the young teacher s 
 making any future, or further visits to his home. To this 
 decree, the young man, against whom no bill of griev 
 ance had been filed, could offer no remonstrance. He 
 knew the home was the property of the holder, and did 
 not feel disposed to be considered a tresspasser. He 
 recognized that Mr. Rowdon had a legal right to object 
 to his visiting his home, but he neither recognized the 
 legal. nor moral right of Mr. Rowdon object to his 
 seeing the daughter, nor to his bestowing attentions upon 
 her away from home, unless for reasons that would 
 answer the demands of justice. The moral right 
 involved, Parsons regarded as a question which would 
 have to be settled by a higher Tribunal than the mind of 
 a man whose devotions were only paid in the Court of 
 Dives. He believed efforts would be made, and plans 
 put in motion to prevent his seeing Miss Lunata ; but, 
 with a big resolve, weighed in the scales of Justice, he 
 intended to see her nevertheless. Xo espionage that 
 the father could invent, he resolved, could be made so 
 complete as that it would not be defeated. 
 
 It so happened that a social gathering was to be 
 held at the home of one of Prof. Parsons patrons a 
 short time subsequent to his mishap at farmer Row- 
 don s, and, of course, the young Professor was invited. 
 Being satisfied that Miss Lunata Rowdon would recieve 
 an invitation, he clandestinely communicated to her 
 his intention of attending the social, and insisted upon 
 her making one of the guests if possible, as there were 
 several important matters, about which he wished to 
 consult her, and indicated that the things, about 
 which he wished to confer with her, were of such a
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 303 
 
 character as that they had given him considerable 
 trouble. To this Miss Lunata replied, that, unless 
 something more potent as a restrainer than she then 
 believed would present itself, she would be sure to 
 be present, and would be made happy by the oppor 
 tunity of meeting him. 
 
 When the evening for the assemblage arrived, Par 
 sons was among those in attendance. He found nearly 
 all of the expected guests were present, and was more 
 than delighted to see that Miss Rowdon was among 
 them. After saluting first one, and then another of 
 those present, with his characteristic grace bestowing 
 a compliment here, and having something pleasant to 
 say there, he at length approached Miss Rowdon with 
 an air of assumed indifference, but, taking her hand in 
 his, he gave it a pressure which she understood. It 
 was not the touch of indifference, and he said to her, 
 sotto race, "by and by, I will explain." So saying he 
 walked across the room, and entered into conversation 
 with a group of his young acquaintances. 
 
 The "by and by," about which Parsons had whis 
 pered he would explain, was not long postponed. 
 Having waited a sufficient length of time, to prevent 
 what he did from attracting especial attention, he 
 again approached Miss Lunata, and gave her to under 
 stand that he wanted a colloquy with her, and desired 
 it should be as private as practicable. Upon this 
 announcement the two walked of? together to an 
 adjacent hallway. Parsons introduced the conversation 
 by describing minutely the incidents of the day on 
 which he was last at her father s, and, after doing so, 
 inquired of her, if she knew of any reason which 
 could be assigned for her father s strange conduct on 
 hat day.
 
 304 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 A read}- response was made to this question by Miss 
 Rowdon. She told Prof. Parsons that some one had 
 gone to her father with the information that frequent 
 visits, with serious intentions, were being made to her 
 by him, and that if he wished to forestall any evil 
 results from their association, he would display ordinary 
 wisdom not to defer putting in his demurrer too long 
 that there was evidently a growing fondness with both 
 of them for each other s society that delay would be 
 dangerous, unless he was willing to resign his daughter 
 to the protecting care of a certain young teacher. She 
 was candid enough to say to him that she believed the 
 information her father had received, if not directly 
 conveyed to him by Aurelius Munson, had been indi 
 rectly given him from that source. She further said,, 
 that, as to the reason for her father s objections to his 
 visiting her, she was at loss to offer an explantion, but 
 that he seemed to have long entertained and cherished 
 the idea that her affections were, at the proper time, 
 to be transferred to Aurelius Munson as their legitimate 
 custodian. She said, furthermore, that if there was 
 any discoverable danger of her being kidnapped on the 
 day mentioned, she was free to confess she did not dis 
 cover it. 
 
 In regard to the mistreatment which her father hadi 
 shown the Professor, and over which he appeared to be 
 so deeply chagrined, Miss Lunata spoke very feel 
 ingly. She told him that with infinite mortification, 
 she had been made the witness of her father s impolite 
 conduct towards him, and that the moment he turned 
 his face from the door r she could scarcely restrain 
 herself from flying after him, and begging him that he 
 would not consider her as condoning the offense, or
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 305 
 
 looking upon such unkindness with any other than a 
 feeling of contempt. She assured him that his 
 unjustifiable mistreatment, so nobly endured, so 
 manfully ignored, so silently rebuked, had drawn the 
 cords of her attachment for him more closely about her 
 sympathizing heart. Such unwarranted conduct as that 
 to which he had been exposed, instead of shaking her 
 admiration for him, would be like the tree when shaken 
 by the wind the disturbance would only give greater 
 power to its living. 
 
 "By that act," said Miss Rowdon, the light 
 was turned on, and it was no longer a matter of 
 surmise, as to what kind of opposition would be offered 
 to my association with you, as a new-made friend. 
 Antagonism, stubborn and uncompromising, would 
 have to be encountered, I knew. The fact that no 
 sooner had my guests all gone, on that Sunday after 
 noon, than did my father flash up, in wrathful ire in my 
 presence, which was proof that the storm was on. He 
 not only applied some very vindictive epithets to 
 you, but peremptorily ordered me to break off all 
 further associations with you. Nay more ; to even 
 discountenance you. Had my father known, Mr. 
 Parsons, how rebellious my nature would grow, under 
 such a cruel, unjust and unwarranted mandate, he 
 would have discovered how very futile his order would 
 prove to be he would have readily perceived that an 
 obedient girl, in the ordinary concerns of life, could 
 readily manifest open revolt and daring insubordina 
 tion, when it came to an attempt to play the tyrant 
 over her affections." 
 
 She reminded Prof. Parsons, that, what she then 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 20.
 
 306 WHAT NEXT? OB 
 
 said, was that he might form some idea of the amount 
 of her discomfiture at seeing him misused without 
 even being cognizant of the character or sum of his 
 offense. She told him that she was sadly defeated, on 
 the Sunday alluded to, because she had brought him 
 as her escort home from church, on that day, and had, 
 unwittingly it was true, led him into a position where 
 he had been mistreated humiliated. She declared, 
 that although defeated in this instance, she intended 
 to show him that she could rise superior to such treat 
 ment. With a cause which was just and a purpose 
 born of honesty, she told Parsons she intended to 
 demonstrate the fact that a plucky girl could defy 
 coercion, and throw her determination, if need be, in 
 the face of prejudiced paternal authority. Her father 
 she stated had been kind to her, but his hitherto 
 uniform kindness might be wholly nullified by the 
 revolting sacrifice which he intimated he would demand 
 of her, in giving up her friends and essaying to decide 
 upon whom she should bestow her affections. ! cruel, 
 cruel fate a fate that had presented her with the dire 
 alternative of filial disobedience or disloyalty to the 
 only man she would ever consent to wed ! 
 
 Such declarations, accompanied by the spirit in 
 which they were delivered, came well nigh overpower 
 ing Prof. Parsons, and so far paralyzing his tongue, as 
 to render him incapable of making any reply. How 
 ever, as soon as he had sufficiently recovered his 
 equilebrim, he said to Miss Rowdon : 
 
 "There is one thing, My Dearest Lunata, which gives 
 me no small amount of anxiety." 
 
 "And what is that, Professor ?" said she.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 307 
 
 " Our meetings, if known to your father," quoth 
 Parsons, "must bring trouble upon you ; and while it 
 would be a source of inexpressible grief to be barred 
 from the delight of your company. I could not be 
 sufficiently selfish to enjoy that delight at the sacrifice 
 of your peace." 
 
 You need not now talk of peace, Prof. Parsons. 
 The alarm has been sounded, and sentinels will be em 
 ployed to dog your footsteps and watch mine, go where 
 we may. Shrewdness and cunning must therefore be 
 brought into play, that these watch-dogs may be thrown 
 off the trail, as often and as completely as possible." 
 
 "Do you not think that, between us, a compromise 
 might be affected with your father, Miss Lunata ?" 
 said Parsons. 
 
 " Ity no means," answered Miss Lunata. "Father 
 has an unconquerable will, and when that will is 
 antagonized, he only plants himself the more resolutely 
 in his determination." 
 
 "There must be a great mistake somewhere," said 
 the Professor. "He must certainly have had presented 
 to him a false representation of rny general character. 
 When he shall have learned what that is, and what it 
 has always been ; when he shall have learned that my 
 life has had no spot upon the escutcheon of its history 
 from childhood till now ; when he shall have acquaint 
 ed himself with the fact that my reputation for honesty 
 and integrity is unsullied ; think you he will not relent, 
 and allow us the privileges that are accorded to young 
 people generally ? 
 
 "No indeed, Prof. Parsons; neither a reputation for up 
 right conduct, nor any reason that you should possibly 
 assign would cause him to altar his purpose. Besides,
 
 308 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 if you were to approach him with a view of arguing 
 your claims to be treated with gentlemanly politeness, 
 his abruptly insulting you would be the reward of your 
 effort." 
 
 "But if he i thinks that I have done anything to 
 forfeit his friendship, Miss Lunata, do you think he 
 would deny me the privilege of an explanation ?" 
 
 "I do, Professor. The sum of your offending has 
 been your attachment to me ; and, as he supposes, the 
 consequent jostling of Mr. Munson Jin his position of 
 fancied security as a claimant for my hand. You 
 could not, I am sure, deny the attachment between 
 us. To acknowledge it would incense him the more, 
 and probably defeat plans which otherwise may be per 
 fected." 
 
 "Well, if I can not approach him to seek an adjust 
 ment through explanation, think you he would be 
 sufficiently unjust, even granting that my love for you 
 has excited his prejudice against me, to deny me the 
 opportunity, within a reasonable time, to reinstate 
 myself in his opinion." 
 
 "I most sincerely hope, Prof. Parsons, that the 
 time may come when my father will have discovered 
 that he made a grievous mistake in treating you as he 
 did. That time, I confidently believe, will come. We 
 must bide its coming. To attempt to reconcile him to 
 the conditions that exist now, between you and me, 
 would be futile, and therefore, such a thought must be 
 banished. Your whole-souled, and unsuspecting mag 
 nanimity gives rise to your wishes. I think I can appre 
 ciate the source from which it all springs. But, 
 my dearest friend, the lavishing of your petitions 
 upon my father, [ under the present circumstances,
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 309 
 
 would only call down the maledictions of him whose 
 good-will you sought to obtain. I know my father. 
 In many respects he is a good man, but. when his 
 prejudices are aroused, they exhibit the worst part of 
 his nature, and are so deeply rooted .that any ordinary 
 effort for their removal would leave them unshaken." 
 
 "What then are we to do? my dearest Lunata. With 
 our vows of eternal fidelity, our declarations of 
 unconquerable and imperishable affection for each 
 other, what must be done ? Must the sacred vows that 
 we have made be erased from the tablets of our hearts? 
 Must these tablets, with the inscription still clinging 
 thereto, be left as desperate wrecks? God forbid ! Ay! 
 and aye! let us hold on, with the tenacity which 
 marks our grip upon life, to what we have. Bolstering 
 our hopefulness with new resolves, let us wait with 
 patience and watch for the coming of a better day." 
 
 "I am very glad, Prof. Parsons, to find you so little 
 disposed to grow discouraged over the troubles which 
 we are now facing so little inclined to look upon the 
 dark side of the history which we are now making for 
 ourselves. I say that I am glad that this is true; for, 
 oh ! my heart seems to bleed, as under a complication 
 of distresses. I can see no way for our escape from 
 impending trouble no promised relief from a bitter 
 and vindicative persecution by Munson, nor any refuge 
 from the wrathful dissatisfaction of my father. Indeed, 
 but for the fact that I have you for a counselor, upon 
 whom I can depend for aid in piloting me through the 
 difficult, dreary and dark way, I would sink down in 
 hopeless despair. You are the one to whom I must 
 look for comfort. You must not therefore talk about it3 
 being selfish to seek my company, for fear you might
 
 310 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 bring me into deeper trouble. Counsel, advice and com 
 forting encouragement is what I need. I really crave a 
 companionship, such as I] can find nowhere, as I can 
 with you. Withold not then from me, my dearest 
 friend, this boon. Of course, I dare not suggest that 
 you visit me at my home. To undertake to meet me 
 there, I am sure, would be perilous to us both, and I could 
 not get my consent to advise anything that would 
 subject you to another insult. But can we not find 
 some way, or devise some plan by which to thwart 
 the cruelty that seeks to keep us apart?" 
 
 "Your trouble is the source of my present anxiety, 
 my dearest Lunata. Cheer up then ; both for my sake 
 and your own. Our surroundings can not, I am sure, 
 remain long as they are. The future, seems 
 now to be unpromising, It looks dreary, gloomy and 
 dark. But remember, that over the blue of yonder sky 
 there never stretched a cloud so far away, that, 
 beyond it, there was not sunshine. Even now, I think 
 I can, by the light of a kind of prophetic vision, see 
 glimmering brightness in the far away. Take cour 
 age, dearest, I think the lowering clouds that now 
 envelop us, in the darkness of uncertainty, must soon 
 pass away. Let us, nevertheless, practice prudence. 
 Let us not be beguiled by the incadescent glow of a 
 will-o -the-wisp that may be hung out as a decoy to 
 lead us, while filing from present troubles, into newer 
 and severer afflctions. Traps will be set, as you have 
 already intimated, into which it is hoped, we may be al 
 lured. Plans will be devised to discover our purposes, in 
 regard to our future course. Let some one else spring 
 the triggers to these traps. If they must be sprung, I 
 will secure the aid of some one, to watch the dead-falls,
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 311 
 
 and when they are set, to knock the triggers down and 
 leave no tracks." 
 
 "You are unused," said Parsons, "as well as myself, 
 to battling with such difficulties and troubles as at 
 present surround us, and I am half atraid to make a 
 suggestion, last in doing so, you may be induced to 
 make a move that may lead to the pressing of a bit 
 terer cup of sorrow to your lips." 
 
 Be not afraid, Prof. Parsons, to make any sugges 
 tion you may feel disposed to offer. Your anxiety for 
 my welfare, I regard as an earnest of the protection 
 you would fain offer me. Should you therefore, in 
 mistaken kindness, cause me to drink a bitterer potion 
 of sorrow than has been yet placed to my lips, I will 
 drink to the dregs and never lift one complaint against 
 you. I will at least have the satisfaction of knowing 
 that the cup which held the draught was intended for 
 good, but was poisoned by the cruel wrong of some 
 one else." 
 
 "I have always thought," said Prof. Parsons, "that, 
 under no kind of circumstances, could I be induced to 
 commit a theft. Thievery is a violation of an item in 
 the Decalogue, and therefore considered an act of moral 
 obliquity since the days of Sinai s legislation. But, 
 conning this question in my mind, I have been led to 
 ask whether a certain kind of larceny was a more heinous 
 offense than the offering of a human sacrifice upon the 
 altar of Mammon. If the latter be an act of greater 
 turpitude than the former, then I become a pleader, in 
 justification of coming to the relief of the sacrifice and 
 snatching it, by theft, if necessary, from a cruel immo 
 lation. Should I become the rescuer, would the act 
 be justifiable ? This is a question to settle. Would
 
 312 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 such an act shadow my reputation for integrity ? What 
 would the world say ? Would critics assert that there 
 was in my act a self-acknowedgement of my incapacity 
 to rescue the sacrifice without pilfering it in the dark. 
 Pride comes well nigh lifting itself in open revolt just 
 here. I cannot persuade myself that I am unworthy, 
 and hence shrink from the thought of leading in such 
 a rescue, my dear Lunata. I think I was raised right 
 I have tried to live right I have labored to build a 
 reputation that was in every way right ; and, to find 
 myself driven into the defile where I am standing 
 to-day, is putting me to the proof as to whether my 
 fidelity, to old opinions and old resolves, should out 
 weigh my loyalty to truth in the awards of constant 
 love and fealty which I have so often made to you. It 
 did not take any large amount of debating the question 
 with myself, as to what I should do." 
 
 "As I view the matter now; having given it much 
 serious thought, there is but one avenue of escape left 
 to us one last alternative. Hope plants itself in this 
 avenue and says : Fly ! Yes, fly from the cruel exaction 
 of a prejudiced father fly from the unrelenting bitter 
 ness with which he looks upon my partiality for you. 
 Yes, fly ! and in the defiant establishment of an 
 inseperable unity resolve to forget present troubles. 
 What think you of my suggestion? It is almost 
 as new to me as it is to you. At any rate, is it not 
 worthy of our consideration ? As already said, such a 
 course would levy a severe tax upon my pride, and 
 before the criticisim of the public that pride might be 
 disposed to cower. But public opinion is not always 
 right in its judgment, and believing that a vindication 
 of our course would be established when the public
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 313 
 
 came to know the true inwardness of the whole matter 
 I can but feel, my dear Lunata, that the reversal of the 
 people s verdict, even prospectively, would palliate, at 
 least measurably, the humiliation I would feel in 
 committing an act which I could not expect to be 
 generally approved. I believe I could satisfy the 
 qualms of my own conscience that, although the 
 expression might seem to be a paradox, it was never 
 theless strictly true that I was an 
 
 AN HONEST THIEF, 
 
 and that I could ask the benediction of Heaven to 
 rest upon the result. It must be this, my dear," said 
 Parsons, "or there can but be an untying of heart 
 strings from about anticipated joys, promised pleasures, 
 and expected delights. Such an issue as this, amid 
 broken vows, would leave two hearts too sore to have 
 the wounds cured, except in the peace and quiet of the 
 grave. I cannot contemplate such a result without 
 having a feeling of awe pervade my whole being. 
 Better does it seem it would be for me, that I should 
 be submerged in the waters of Lethe and pass into a 
 .state of unbroken oblivion, than to live and lose thee." 
 "Why talk thus so despondingly, Prof. Parsons? 
 You well know that I have come to regard you as a 
 true, noble, and self-sacrificing part of myself, and 
 knowing this, I do not want to hear you intimate any 
 thing about a seperation this side of the turbid stream 
 where lovers must speak their last good-byes. How, 
 pray tell me, can the unity of the two in one, and the 
 one in two, about which I have heard you philoso 
 phise the unity which has been ratified by all the 
 sanctity that could be couched in words, be torn 
 asunder ? Whose hands with impious cruelty shall be
 
 314 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 first lifted to strike the fatal blow? Whose voice shall 
 first be heard calling down the righteous indignation of 
 Heaven, in attestation of its having been a witness 
 to what had proven to be a falsehood? Not mine, 
 dearest ; no, no ; and I would as soon believe that you 
 were ready to imbue your hands in the blood of the 
 heart that now beats wildly in sympathy for you, as to- 
 believe you capable of proving false to yourself false 
 to your promises, or insincere in your vows. Somewhere, 
 dearest, on the broad-breasted earth ; somewhere under 
 the star-lighted azure above us ; somewhere under the 
 sun-brightened heavens, there must be a home for you 
 and me a home where peace and safety from this 
 consuming uncertainty will prove a panacea for present 
 ills. Ay ! it must be so, and let it be where it may, 
 under your lead I will follow r ." 
 
 "0, that I had the pen of a poet, fresh from amid 
 the dews of Parnassus, that I might indite an ode to 
 constancy and dedicate it to you ! Excited beauty, if 
 devotional attachment be the parent of this excitement, 
 it appears to advantage, and your outburst of pathetic 
 tenderness has filled my soul to the full. If it were 
 possible that my admiration for you could be height 
 ened, I am sure that admiration must have climbed to 
 its zenith while listening to the sublime declarations of 
 loyalty to your pledges that have just fallen from your 
 lips. 0, that I had some dialect in which I might rise 
 to the emergency of this occasion ! 0, that I could 
 word my emotions !" 
 
 "Neither are needed," said Miss Lunata ; your 
 features are indices to your emotions. Those tell-tale 
 eyes of yours can sometimes express more than your 
 tongue could, even if you were a regular polyglot. It
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 
 
 would never do for you to undertake to play the knave, 
 for any good detective could read guilt in every linea 
 ment of your face." 
 
 "Thank you, my dear, for your compliment, for 
 such it surely is. I would really like to consider the 
 subject to which your last remarks lead, but as time is 
 passing, and my remaining with you much longer might 
 create suspicion, I had better say something now about 
 the when, the where, and the how, which are involved 
 in the consummation of our cherished plans. These 
 must be the subjects of our study for some weeks to 
 come, and we had better try to mature these lessons at 
 as early a period as possible. In the meantime, alert 
 ness and circumspection must be our watch-words. 
 There are eyes that look with approbation upon my 
 fondness for your society ; and from them we would 
 have nothing to fear. But there are others whose 
 gangrened jealousy would lead them to inflict an 
 injury upon the object they pretended to admire, or 
 load with trouble the party whom they once claimed 
 to be an especial friend. My advice to you would be 
 that you shun the society of all those who would seek 
 to injure you by playing the part of a spy reporting 
 what had been seen, and filling in with guess-work. 
 
 Purity gains nothing by contact with dishonesty, and 
 the sooner you sever your association with prying eyes 
 and mischievous tongues, the better you will fare, 
 especially in the handling of matters of vital importance 
 to you and me." 
 
 Moving along the hall-way, so as to be brought 
 before the door which was the entrance to the room in 
 which most of the guests were assembled, and, taking 
 a look as he passed, Prof. Parsons remarked to Miss.
 
 316 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 Lunata, that lie was not sufficiently acquainted with 
 all the guests, to say whether there were any envious 
 eyes among those present or not; and, lest there should 
 
 be, he thought it prudent to disarm the suspicions of 
 any present who might happen to be troubled with 
 that malady, and he so told Miss Lunata, and further 
 said, that he thought it would be prudent and politic 
 
 that he should show her no further attention during the 
 evening. This, he told her, was a sacrifice, but sug 
 gested that, if a proper opportunity presented itself, he 
 would do himself the pleasure of having some further 
 interview with her. He whispered to her also, that, at 
 any rate, when the company began to disperse, he 
 would try and find an opportunity of bidding her a 
 more affectionate good night. He promised to keep 
 
 "her informed by letter, in regard to everything that 
 
 came to his notice, that he thought she ought to know. 
 
 With this speech ended, he led Miss Lunata to a 
 
 .company of lively young people who were in the full 
 enjoyment of the evening pleasures, and then turned 
 
 .Hmself to the entertainment of some other young ladies 
 who were in a different part of the room. For the 
 remainder of the evening, hie attention was in no way 
 directed to Miss Lunata Rowdon. 
 
 A group of girls standing by themselves in one corner 
 
 of the room, were having a splendid time in a lively 
 chat with each other, at the time Parsons and Miss 
 Lunata returned from the hall, and an observant pair 
 of eyes in this group noticed, that having left Miss 
 Lunata in the company of her friends, he gave her 
 no further attention. This gave rise to some speculation 
 among these girls, when a listener overheard the fol- 
 
 "lowing colloquy among them :
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 317" 
 
 Miss Mary Snow dared to intimate that she thought: 
 Parsons and Miss Rowdon! had ended their rather pro 
 tracted conversation in a lover s quarrel . 
 
 Miss Lizzie Ball wanted to know how two young 
 people could have a lovers quarrel without their being 
 lovers. 
 
 Miss Snow replied by asking if there was not a. 
 suspicion afloat that Prof. Parsons was thinking about 
 as much of Miss Lunata as the Henry Rowdon law 
 would allow ? 
 
 Miss Dora Duke remarked that if Parsons was 
 really in love with Lunata, he had her sympathy, and 
 deserved pity. What has Aurelius Munson been doing 
 all this time ? That post to which he has so regularly 
 hitched his horse would grow lonesome if the young 
 teacher were to capture his bird." 
 
 "Good!" said Miss Combs, laughingly. "Both of 
 them are my especial friends. Parsons, I regard as a 
 catch, and Lunata is a jewel. I wish they could make 
 a match." 
 
 "What would become of Munson?" said Miss Snow. 
 "Would you have his prospects knocked into pi, as the- 
 printers say?" 
 
 "0 bosh on his prospects," said Miss Ball. "He s 
 an old fogy out of date a back number. Miss Lunatai 
 hasn t the remotest idea of marrying him." 
 
 "Do you really think, girls," said Miss Combs, "that. 
 Prof. Parsons is waiting upon Lunata with serious 
 intentions, ? It is said that the course of true love- 
 is not a [voyage over an untroubled sea, but if the,- 
 Professor |is really in earnest, and if they have had a 
 little lover s quarrel, I hope the breakers have not 
 been heavy enough to upset their- craft that peace-, 
 may be established and their boat land in safety.
 
 318 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 " Land where did you say?" said Miss Duke. 
 
 " Land in the port of matrimony, of course," said 
 Miss Combs. " If they have a boat freighted with love, 
 where else do you suppose the craft has passports for?" 
 
 "I can hardly guess," said Miss Duke, "but from 
 the looks of the Captain, as he hove to, and landed 
 his partner in this room a few minutes ago, it looked to 
 me very much like the prow of his vessel was turned 
 In the opposite direction from lover s landing." 
 
 At this speech all broke forth in merry laughter except 
 Miss Duke, who put on a look somewhat demure, and 
 asked if she had said anything wrong. "0, no, no !" 
 answered a number of her companions in chorus. "It 
 was only your quaint way of putting the matter," 
 replied Miss Snow, "that excited the merriment. You 
 are all right, Duke." 
 
 " I thought I was," said Miss Duke. " But what 
 difference does it make anyway? If Lunata s father 
 thought that she had engaged passage for a life-voyage 
 with that young teacher as the pilot of the vessel she 
 was to sail in, and was to embark for that long trip, 
 My ! 0, my ! wouldn t he cut up Jacks ! Wouldn t he 
 hire some one to follow them in a life-boat, with orders 
 to scuttle the craft drown the pilot, but rescue the 
 daughter ! I know him. The fact is, Mr. Henry 
 Rowdon thinks poetry and poverty are twins that 
 fashion and folly belong to the same family, and that 
 a man who has not more money than he inherited, is 
 not worth the wrapping paper in which was brought 
 home the last purchase which any one of the family 
 may have made." 
 
 "I understand," said Miss Snow, "that Mr. Rowdon 
 is wealthy probably one of the richest men in the 
 county."
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 319 
 
 "Ay! ay! there s where the trouble comes in," 
 said Miss Snow. " Mr. Rowdon makes devotional 
 offerings upon no other altar than that where Plutus is 
 the priest. He seems to have forgotten the fact that 
 lucre must perish. He began at the bottom of the 
 ladder, I understand, so far as worldly possessions are 
 concerned, and his pride has kept pace with his grow 
 ing prosperity. He therefore wants his daughter to 
 marry a man with means. He has no appreciation 
 whatever of the beautiful, the true and the good, as 
 mental qualifications, only so far as these qualities are 
 auxiliaries in lending to an increase of riches already 
 in hand. He knows that special mental ornamenta 
 tion can be bought neither by weight nor measure and 
 cannot therefore yield any ready money. Young Prof. 
 Parsons, as I understand, although he has every endow 
 ment necessary to enable him, not only to gain a living 
 but to make his mark in the world, has nevertheless 
 not the kind of riches which can purchase the favor of 
 Lunata s father. This being true it were better, in the 
 event that they have had a lover s quarrel, as has been 
 intimated, that their quarrel remain unsettled. Miss 
 Lunata Rowdon is a most excellent young lady, and 
 he who wins her hand will win a jewel. She is 
 especially sprightly, and the scintillations of her intel 
 lectual brightness would shed lustre upon any home. 
 She has the glow of a heart-kindness and the generous 
 impulses of a noble nature, and these, together with 
 her superior personal beauty, would make him who 
 wins her the owner of a coronet set off with gems of 
 rare worth and incalculable value." 
 
 With this perioration, Miss Duke remarked that 
 the company was dispersing, and at once they too
 
 320 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 donned their wraps, and the house in which there had 
 been so much merriment was occupied only by the 
 family. 
 
 As the party passed out, one by one, Parsons met 
 Miss Lunata as she emerged from the door gave her 
 hand the earnest pressure of more than friendship, and 
 while doing so whispered something in her ear which 
 none but he and she ever heard. 
 
 With this parting Parsons started home, ?nd as he 
 went, amid the thousand questions which were sug. 
 gested but unanswered, the last was What Next?
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 "Such Is the use and noble end of friendship, 
 
 To bear a part in every storm of fate, 
 
 And, by dividing, make the lighter weight." 
 
 Higgons. 
 
 "HERE was a young Mr. Lasell, who was boarding 
 in the neighborhood and attending the school 
 which Parsons was teaching. He had become 
 very much attached to the young Professor ad 
 miring him as a man, and appreciating him as a 
 teacher. Parsons was never slow in determining the 
 estimation in which he was held by every pupil under 
 his charge. He therefore felt secure in approaching 
 young Lasell, and, without any preliminaries, told 
 him he wanted to use him as a friend. Parsons gave 
 him an assurance that he would not be permitted to 
 compromise himself, and told him that he would feel safe 
 in delegating to him so important a trust. He told Lasell 
 that he wanted to open a clandestine correspondence with 
 Miss Lunata Rowdon, and that he desired his aid in 
 the execution of that purpose. "Her father," said 
 Parsons, "has resolutely put himself in opposition to 
 my having the privilege of visiting the young lady, or 
 in any way enjoying the liberty of social intercourse 
 with her. He has, by a very singular proceedure, which 
 I need not now explain, barred me from visiting her in 
 his home, and, I am convinced, will put his wits to work 
 in trying to prevent me from having any communi 
 cation whatever with her. His opposition to my 
 visiting his daughter is without the semblence of 
 justice, or a sensible reason for acting as he is now 
 
 WHAT NUT? 21.
 
 322 WHAT NEXT? OB 
 
 doing. I presume that he is apprehensive that my 
 visits would stand in the way of the cherrished pur 
 pose of his mind, which is, that Miss Lunata is 
 ultimately to become the wife of the man whose 
 horse you have seen hitched tri-weekly in front of her 
 father s house You have certainly seen that horse, 
 as well as his rider, often enough in your passing 
 to and from school, to know to whom I allude without 
 my calling his name. But I need not go further into 
 particulars; suffice it to say, in my present emergency 
 I need a friend a true friend a friend who can keep 
 his own counsels who can be wary and watchful, 
 and on whom I can most implicitly rely. 
 
 "Trust me, Prof. Parsons, I am your friend, and, 
 that I may prove myself to be just what I claim to be, 
 command my services. I will perform any duty you 
 may require at my hands. Your honorable course in 
 your professional work the esteem in which you are 
 held by your patrons, and your almost unrivaled 
 popularity, I would regard as a sufficient guarantee 
 that you would ask me to do nothing which would be 
 incompatible with the conduct of a gentleman. I will 
 not only aid you," continued Lasell, "to the full extent 
 of my ability, but I will be glad, yea, proud, to lend 
 you any help in my power, and I assure you that you 
 may depend upon my carrying a still tongue." 
 
 " With regard to the horse of which you made men 
 tion, I have often thought he reminded me of the equine 
 attachment to a cavalry post whose rider was on picket 
 duty guarding the outpost lest the camp should be 
 surprised and the valuables thereof captured and 
 carried away. If this is his mission, however, I am 
 persuaded that his eyes are not set right in his head,
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 323 
 
 to make him a good guard against the capture of the 
 young and handsome damsel upon whom he thinks he 
 holds a first mortgage." 
 
 "The simple, plain truth, Prof. Parsong, is, that 
 Miss Lunata Rowdon, not only has no admiration for 
 Aurelius Munson, but dislikes him, and tolerates his 
 company only in deference to the wishes of her father. 
 This I know to be true, for I have seen and heard 
 enough to satisfy any one save the man himself ; and, 
 why he has not sufficient mental acumen to have dis 
 covered what is patent to so many others, is to me 
 very remarkable. 
 
 From these observations, Parsons at once discovered 
 that Lasell was his friend for two reasons. First, 
 because of his personal fondness for him, as his teacher, 
 and secondly, out of sympathy for Miss Lunata. 
 
 After this interview, whenever it becacame neces 
 sary for Parsons to communicate with her who 
 was now . his affianced, he had only to notify 
 young Lasell, and he was ready to bear a message or 
 carry a letter as the Professor might direct. His 
 charge, on these occasions, the young man faithfully 
 executed, and the messages, w r hether verbal or written, 
 were delivered with punctilious exactness or commen 
 dable promptness. 
 
 It seems that Mr. Rowdon had never suspected that 
 this young kinsman had been taken into the confidence 
 of the man for whom he had expressed admiration as a 
 teacher, but whom he was unwilling to tolerate 
 as a suitor for the hand of his daughter. Lasell 
 regarded the edict] indirectly issued, which 
 barred the professor from visiting his home, as 
 both cruel and unwise. As to the decree of his
 
 324 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 uncle, forbidding the association of his daughter 
 with the teacher whom the pupils held in such high 
 esteem, and the effort which was being made to erect 
 an insuperable barrier to the association of these two 
 young people, Lasell regarded as unjust and meanty 
 selfish. 
 
 The reasoning of Lasell in regard to the objection 
 that had been offered by Mr. Rowdon, to the asso 
 ciation of his daughter and Parsons, as made known to 
 him by his cousin Lunata, was on the side of mercy. He 
 could not reconcile himself to the belief that the order 
 of Mr. Rowdon was not only unwise but impolitic. He 
 especially so regarded it, in view of the fact that there 
 was such an incomparable difference between the 
 genuine worth of his preceptor, and the self-estimated 
 value of Aurelius Munson. It was therefore without 
 any pangs of a disturbed conscience that he was ready 
 to succor the young teacher, and aid him in defeating 
 the cruel purposes of farmer Rowdon. 
 
 As was anticipated, an improvised detective was 
 employed by Miss Lunata s father, and he was put 
 upon the track to watch Prof. Parsons, and make 
 a report to the farmer from time to time, at his head 
 quarters. 
 
 The thing, which, at this particular crisis, had a 
 very important bearing upon the case under consider 
 ation, and which gave Parsons the most trouble, was, 
 that Mr. Rowdon s nosing detective should have been 
 one of the Watson boys with whose parents Prof. Par 
 sons was still boarding. 
 
 The relations of the young teacher with that family, 
 previous to this member of the family lending himself 
 to such an unworthy purpose, had been very pleasant.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 325 
 
 It will be remembered that the ladies of the family 
 had been especially kind to him, and in many ways 
 had shown him marked attention. He appreciated 
 these little displays of favoritism; still, there was not 
 much in common between him and the Watson family. 
 He was educated and none of them were. He had 
 a taste for literature, and they had none. But, 
 notwithstanding all this, it was a matter of painful 
 solicitude to him that there should be thrust into his 
 history an action which might lead to a severance of 
 the friendship between himself and the Watsons. Of 
 course, he dreamed of nothing more serious. 
 
 It was not difficult to understand why Mr. Rowdon 
 should have employed Alf. Watson as his private 
 detective. Alf. had been filling the position of night- 
 watch in the adjacent town for some time, and, having 
 lost his place, had come home to remain until some 
 opening for business presented itself. Mr. Rowdon 
 knew this, and knew as well that he could employ Alf. 
 to do any kind of work that did not make him 
 amenable to the law. Mr. Rowdon also knew, that, 
 being in a position where he would be brought in con 
 tact with Prof. Parsons every day, his opportunity for 
 discovering just what moves the young teacher was 
 making would be better, and the exact condition of 
 affairs as between the young preceptor and Miss Lunata 
 more easily discovered. Of course this arrangement 
 made Watson a confidant of Mr. Rowdon, and 
 empowered him with full authority to look into every 
 thing that would shed any light upon the status of 
 affairs between his daughter and the Professor. 
 J Alf. Watson seemed rather elated over having 
 been selected to fill so important a trust. This was
 
 326 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 evidenced by the way in which he deported himself. 
 Even if the Professor had not been apprised of Alf s 
 having been elevated to the position of a spy, his deport 
 ment would have rendered the young teacher suspicious 
 and watchful. 
 
 There was boarding with the Watson family a young 
 man who was about Parsons age a sprightly and 
 clever fellow, who had attended school under Parsons, 
 while he was but a tyro as a teacher, and who followed 
 him into his new field. Being a good student, and 
 not especially interested in any one in the vicinity 
 except his teacher, he gave himself little or ho concern 
 about what was going on around him. To Parsons, 
 this young man Kirtland by name, was devotedly 
 attached. His age, and his former admiration for the 
 young preceptor had previously created a bond of 
 strong friendship between the two. Young Kirtland 
 came into the Watson neighborhood not a great while 
 before the opening up of the stirring events in the 
 history of his esteemed preceptor, and, their former 
 intimacy having been renewed, the relations between 
 the two became a doubly welded tie of personal 
 attachment. 
 
 Kirtland had not long been a boarder in the Watson 
 family, until he gathered an inkling that was dropped 
 by members of that family that Professor Parsons 
 was involved in some kind of trouble. While 
 Kirtland did not understand the nature of the disturb 
 ance, he had discovered its origin, and such was his 
 confidence in the integrity and self-sacrificing honesty 
 of the young teacher, that, without investigation, he 
 assumed that his friend and teacher had been 
 wronged and unjustly treated.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 327 
 
 This young, gentlemanly student, knew Parsons, and 
 looked upon him as incapable of committing a mean 
 act. He knew him to be a proud-spirited and high- 
 toned gentleman. No sooner did he learn that his 
 teacher, for whom he had such a high regard, was 
 environed by some character of harm, than there was 
 aroused within him a sympathy that betokened help 
 for his teacher, should it be discovered that help was 
 needed. 
 
 Kirtland went, with the information he had gleaned 
 from the Watsons in regard to the disturbance between 
 him and Mr. Henry Rowdon, at the very first suitable 
 opportunity, and told him that if he could be of any 
 possible assistance to him, he would be glad to be 
 called to his aid. 
 
 In asmuch as Miss Lunata had, on more occasions 
 than one, suggested the necessity for her and the Professor 
 to keep their own counsels, and make no confidants, 
 and dearly as Parsons prized the honest, straight-forward 
 friendship of Charles Kirtland, he had never inti 
 mated to him anything about his attachment to Miss 
 Rowdon, nor mentioned a word about the trouble in 
 which he had become involved. But, inasmuch as Mr. 
 Rowdon, through his appointment of an ignorant spy, 
 had let most of the circumstances out that Parsons and 
 Miss Lunata had desired to be kept concealed from 
 outsiders, the Professor thought no harm could result 
 from making a revelation to Kirtland of the whole 
 matter, and soliciting his aid in helping to hoodwink 
 the ignorant Alf Watson. This detective, Parsons told 
 him, was to report from time to time to Mr. Rowdon 
 what progress was being made by himself and Miss 
 Lunata, in carrying on a clandestine communication.
 
 328 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 Having made a full statement of the facts connected 
 with his courtship, Parsons counseled Kitland as his con 
 fidant, to practice strict prudence in keeping his tongue 
 bridled, and standing, with ears open, on the lookout, in 
 watchful silence. By such a course, he informed Kirt- 
 land, he might render him incalculable service. More 
 than one pair of eyes, said he, will be needed to watch 
 the movements of the spies that are constantly in my 
 wake. He told Kirtland, that as a boarder in the 
 Watson family, he might be of special advantage, in 
 finding opportunities to work Alf Watson in his traces, 
 and having him pull his wagon, without his knowing 
 it. A traitor to his former friendship, he deserved but 
 little attention, except to be defeated in every movement 
 he might make. 
 
 Young Kirtland was full of desire to show his teacher 
 how loyal he could prove himself to be in his friend 
 ship, and, of course, was ready to listen to any 
 suggestion Parsons might make. Even while Parsons 
 was making a recital of the facts that had driven him 
 into such trouble, Kirtland could hardly restrain him 
 self from indulging in uncomplientmary invectives 
 against Alf. Watson for selling himself to so low and 
 debasing a position as the one he was filling. 
 Parsons and Kirtland both knew that Alf. carried a 
 minimum allowance of mind and a large share of low, 
 deceitful cunning, and to defeat his cunning, upset his 
 plans, and turn what he considered his stragetic move 
 ments into failures, was resolved upon. 
 
 A course of proceedure was agreed upon between 
 Parsons and Kirtland, whereby it was understood that 
 the latter should, if possible, so ingratiate himself into 
 the favor of Alf. Watson as to become his confidant,
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 329 
 
 and in that way draw from him all that he knew which 
 would shed any light upon what was being done to 
 thwart the purposes of his teacher, or help to an 
 understanding of how matters were progressing in the 
 Rowdon family. 
 
 By a prudent and sagacious course, Kirtland suc 
 ceeded, and, in a short while, was seeing through Alf. s 
 eyes, a large part of everything that had recently taken 
 place, that was in anyway connected with matters 
 about which Parsons wanted information. Especially 
 was this true as to what moves Mr. Rowdon was 
 making in order to fully inform himself with regard to 
 what Prof. Parsons was proposing to do in the case 
 pending between him and his daughter, and who were 
 the principal parties through whom Mr. Rowdon was 
 seeking to defeat the intentions of t he two young 
 people. In like manner young Kirtland had so far 
 brought Alf . under his power as to be using his ears to 
 hear all the secret plans and schemes which Lunata s 
 father was devising for the purpose of upsetting any 
 pre-concerted communication between her and the 
 Professor. From Alf. the information was gathered 
 that if nothing else would accomplish the result 
 which Miss Lunata s father had determined upon, as a 
 last resort, it had been decided that the young teacher 
 should be banished from the neighborhood. 
 
 The last term for the scholastic year of Parsons 
 teaching was nearing its close, and still the uneasiness 
 which Mr. Rowdon felt, over what he considered a 
 dangerous state of affairs, drove him to the conclusion 
 that Parsons had better be banished from the neighbor 
 hood at once. Under the advice, however, of some of 
 his abettors, it was decided that a wiser plan would
 
 330 WHAT NEXT? OE 
 
 be to allow his school to run on till its legitimate 
 close, but, in the mean time, to work up a prejudice 
 against him, and help to nullify the admiration which 
 Miss Rowdon had for him. 
 
 The effort to accomplish, through this means, the 
 result sought, was a signal failure, for Mr. Rowdon had 
 miscalculated the influence and popularity which the 
 upright and gentlemanly conduct of the young man 
 had secured. It was like trying to suppress the 
 fragrance of flowers by tramping upon them 
 the greater the effort to create prejudice against 
 the faithful and honest young preceptor, the greater 
 was the amount of sympathy awakened in his behalf 
 and the more he grew in favor and towards the pro 
 portions of a hero. 
 
 Prof. Parsons passed in and out in the prosecution 
 of his work, with a reputation untainted by wrong, 
 unless to look upon a lovely girl, in all the glory and 
 beauty of her blooming womanhood, and love her in 
 violation of the mandate of her money loving father 
 was a crime. Loving her he did not deny; but, beyond 
 this, he made no admissions. If this charge had been 
 laid at his door, even by the father of the young lady 
 who had made an appeal to his aesthetic taste as no 
 other fair specimen of womanhood had ever done ; 
 with the honesty and courage of a manly nature, he 
 would have confessed himself guilty of admiring the 
 young lady, and would have demanded of his 
 questioner the amount of penalty which he proposed 
 to assess for saying his daughter was beautiful, and as 
 lovely as she was handsome. 
 
 The efforts to engender, in the minds of the people, 
 a spirit of persecution and evil speaking against the
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 331 
 
 young teacher having proved abortive, Aurelius Munson 
 grew garrulous, in his insipid platitudes about the pre 
 sumption of Prof. Parsons attempt to win the esteem 
 of Miss Lunata Rowdon ; and while he discussed the 
 utter futility of the young teacher s presumptuous 
 interference with the wishes of Mr. Henry Rowdon, in 
 the presence of such persons as would lend him 
 attention, it was only to have such auditors turn away 
 in disgust, and laughing in their sleeves, ask if 
 Munson s case was not a parallel to that of Aesop s 
 fable of the fox and the grapes. 
 
 Through a letter transmitted to Miss Lunata Rowdon 
 by the hands of young Jerry Lasell, an appointment 
 w r as made between the two lovers to meet each other 
 at a church only a few miles from farmer Rowdon s 
 a church of which Miss Lunata s mother had been a 
 communicant during the latter part of her life, and 
 consequently a church for whose membership the 
 daughter cherished a high regard. The day specified, 
 upon which this meeting was to take take place, was 
 the Sunday subsequent to the Monday upon which the 
 letter was delivered. 
 
 While the affairs of the two restless and over-anxious 
 parties were having a sharp and constant espionage 
 kept over them, as the employed emissaries of Mr, 
 Rowdon were reporting from time to time, these spies 
 Vere being completely blinded to the true state of 
 affairs, and their work therefore rendered nugatory. 
 
 With things in this shape, the father of John Parsons- 
 having learned that his son had become involved in 
 some kind of an entanglement, made him a visit, that 
 he might ascertain the precise character of his trouble, 
 and, if prudence so demanded, to offer his son a.
 
 : 332 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 father s advice. When he had sufficiently questioned 
 his son to satisfy himself in regard to the nature and 
 cause of the existing disturbance, the father ventured 
 upon giving his son such advice as a good, kind, 
 -loving paternal heart suggested. 
 
 The elder Parsons was proud of his boy, and thought 
 him too fine a specimen of uncorrupted manhood; too 
 noble an exemplification of genuine honesty; too bright 
 a personification of ambitious energy, and too proud 
 spirited to ever entertain the thought of marrying any 
 woman, in open and defiant opposition to the wishes 
 -of her father. Mr. Parsons, ST., was somewhat 
 well acquainted with the antecedents of Mr. Henry 
 Rowdon, and was therefore the more surprised that he 
 should have objected to the attention which his son 
 was showing to Miss Rowdon. The senior Parsons 
 thought it was barely possibly that he might over-value 
 "the real worth of his boy ; but when he remembered 
 the difficulties through which he had climbed, and the 
 general reputation he had sustained for integrity, the 
 possibility that he had made an over-estimate of his 
 real worth, dwindled below even a probability. 
 
 After a long talk, and an anxious talk with his son, 
 in regard to the momentous issue involved in the ques 
 tion with which he was then struggling, characterized, 
 -as w r as his conversation, by a gracious blandness, Mrj| 
 Parsons, ST., at length reached a pause, and John 
 asked him if his admonitory speech was finished. 
 To this the father replied that he supposed he had said 
 enough. 
 
 John thanked his father, in true and genuine filial 
 tyle, for his visit, which, under the circumstances, 
 *Could not be interpreted in any other way than as an
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 333- 
 
 indication of the abiding interest which he felt for him-, 
 as a son. He told his father that he knew every word, 
 which he had uttered was the prompting of immeasur 
 able affection. But he was frank in his response to, 
 his father, and told him that while he would ever 
 carry the profoundest respect and veneration for him. 
 and the mother whom he loved, a decision in regard 
 to the matter which he then had under consideration. 
 was one which fell not wholly within the scope of 
 home influence, nor sought for a verdict in home 
 counsel ; that there were two people, and only two,, 
 who were directly and individually interested, 
 in that decision ; all other interests were sec 
 ondary. He assured his father that he believed the 
 resolution and fixedness of purpose, upon the part 
 of the young lady between whom and himself there, 
 had been a plighting of vows, was as unbending as. 
 the oak, and as uncompromising as death.. He said,, 
 as well, that while she might decide to fly with him to 
 the American Gretna Green to have consummated, 
 what had already been fully decided by her father 
 could never be perfected at home ; such a step, if 
 taken, would be attended by a fearful and tearful 
 sacrifice upon her part, and by a humiliating struggle 
 upon his. The young lady had been a dutiful and 
 devoted daughter, and to tear herself from home, and 
 all its tender endearments, would cost her a wonderful 
 struggle. So far as he was individually concerned, he 
 felt that his pride would suffer an eclipse, and that he 
 would be left with the depressing belief that honor and, 
 uprightness were below par in the world s market. 
 
 In addition, John, said to his lather, that, while he, 
 saw no other alternative than to fly with the young ladyr
 
 334 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 from the cruel exactions of a money- worshiping father, 
 that such a decision had not been fully matured, but he 
 might rest assured, that, upon reaching a conclusion, 
 there would, in that conclusion, be as much steadiness 
 and clinging determination to adhere to it as there 
 was with Ixion to his ever-revolving wheel. In other 
 words, if they decided to go, neither paternal expos 
 tulations nor threats neither bars nor bolts could 
 intercept their final purpose. On the other hand, 
 should the matured determination be reached, that 
 they could not take such a step, that would end the 
 whole matter, unless something better presented itself, 
 whereby their wishes could be consumated. 
 
 There was one thing which the son seemed especially 
 anxious to impresss upon the mind of his father. It 
 was this: He wanted him to remember that if he 
 married the lady in question without the consent of her 
 father, such a relation would not be entered into with 
 out due consideration of the exceedingly great import 
 ance of the step. That the venture would not be 
 made till after the most earnest and careful survey had 
 been made of every responsibility that would be 
 incurred in entering upon such changed conditions a 
 studied view of the outlying prospective an honest 
 effort to get at a just appreciation of such a move, and 
 to understand the fearfulness of failure, in assuming so 
 responsible an undertaking. The son declared with the 
 profoundest seriousness that his courtship of Miss 
 Rowdon was anything else than a boyish freak that 
 his was a manly fight for what he believed would prove 
 to be the joy of a better and happier life. In the sight 
 of Heaven s witnesses, he dec-lared, he had honestly 
 appealed for aid to his reason, in deciding what to do
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 335 
 
 that would best secure the merited happiness of two 
 resolute and determined people, neither of whom would 
 willingly violate any known law of right. 
 
 The elder Parsons was deeply moved by the earnest 
 ness the apparently dispassionate calmness, and the 
 manifisted resolution of his son, while explaining to 
 him the position in which he was placed, and the 
 further unfolding of his purposes, or what course he 
 intended to pursue in regard to marrying the young 
 lady to whom he was then engaged. To every thing the 
 son had to say, the father listened with increasing 
 interest, and when he found how philosophic beseemed 
 to be in the positions taken and the resolutions formed, 
 he spoke kindly to the son, and expressed the hope 
 that he would not allow himself to be betrayed into 
 doing anything that would savor of wrong. He then 
 bade the son a kindly good-bye, and, somewhat 
 saddened by the interview, turned his face homeward. 
 
 On the following Sunday morning, according to pre 
 vious arrangement, Prof. Parsons met Miss Lunata 
 Rowdon at the designated country church. 
 
 Just here it will be necessary to state that the church 
 selected for the meeting of these two young people, was a 
 place of popular resort for church-goers. Many, however, 
 who attended, went rather to be seen and heard them 
 selves, than to hear what the minister had to say. It was 
 the usual custom in those days of the long ago, espe 
 cially in good and pleasant weather, for the overflow of 
 the congregation, which attended this church, to hold 
 its meetings under the shade trees that graced the 
 large yard. 
 
 The two young people, therefore, who met, by a 
 previous arrangement, at this country church, for the
 
 336 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 transaction of business that necessarily interfered with 
 their giving any attention to the devotional exercises 
 of the inner sanctuary, did nevertheless do some wor 
 shipping beneath the umbrageous covering of nature s 
 first temples the trees. Whether their devotions 
 were of a character to rise higher than their own heads 
 is doubtful ; but, it may be confidently asserted, that 
 there was more heart in the speech of one pleader who 
 stood in the shadow of those trees, by large odds, 
 than there was in the sermon from the pulpit, although 
 the preacher made very much more noise. Yes, that par 
 ticular outside meeting involved the interest, of two 
 souls that longed for a common goal two hearts that 
 beat in unison, and to the same music. That outside 
 meeting that leafy-bowered meeting that quiet and 
 Becluded meeting, had dove-tailed into it possibilities 
 that would open up and develop a halo of brightness 
 that would be a foretaste of bliss beatific to that pair 
 of young outside worshipers ; or it would end with a 
 mantle of gloom enshrouding them as dark as that 
 which hangs as a pall, over the casket of the unburied 
 dead. 
 
 There was a look of anxiety that hung about the 
 features of the usually cheerful face of John Parsons 
 when he and Miss Lunata Rowdon met. She had not 
 been well for a number of days, and of course it could 
 hardly have been expected that she would wear her 
 usually bright and cherry face. Indeed had it not 
 have been considered exceedingly important that 
 she should be in attendance upon this appointment, 
 she would have disappointed Prof. Parsons this one 
 time, and would have depended upon his generosity 
 and her illness to have plead that she be forgiven.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 337 
 
 The meeting had been appointed by him, it was true, 
 but then she was equally interested with him in having 
 the meeting, and had hence run some risk in coming 
 out. But, this aside. It would have been easy for 
 one, even partially skilled in physiognomy, to have 
 discovered that something was wrong with these young 
 people. That they were ill at ease they could not 
 conceal that there was trouble hanging about their 
 horizon was evident that an ordeal of pain- making 
 was hanging in troublous clouds all about them, could 
 have been easily discovered. As to what it was that 
 seemed so like an incubus, weighing down the spirits 
 of this usually buoyant and glad hearted pair, some 
 essayed to guess, but none dared to say from what the 
 trouble came. 
 
 If the curious and prying eyes which had observed 
 the half dejected look of both of these outside worship 
 ers, as they stood under the sheltering shadow of the 
 trees, could have looked into the depths of those 
 troubled souls, they would have been siezed by a large 
 amount of sympathy. Sorrow and sympathy are akin, 
 and a tear of grief is one of the dialects of the soul. 
 
 Lunata s father had very recently discovered, as he 
 thought, that there was some disposition upon the part 
 of the daughter to disobey him, in regard to his order 
 that she should cease altogether to notice or have any 
 thing to do with Prof. Parsons. This had brought 
 about a clash, where, by right, nought should have 
 existed between father and daughter except kindness 
 and considerate affection. The father had again 
 scolded his daughter, and positively commanded her to 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 22.
 
 338 WHAT NEXT? OB 
 
 break off any further recognition of Parsons, and in 
 the future to entirely ignore him as beneath her, and 
 unworthy of either her company or her confidence. 
 
 In his array of objections to Parsons, (to his credit be 
 it said) he never claimed to have discovered one single 
 flaw in the moral character of the man against whom 
 he was so resolutely and defiantly commanding his 
 daughter to have no further communication. But, 
 while Mr. Rowdon did not present the motive which 
 prompted to this second dictatorial outburst against an 
 unoffending gentleman, could the covert reason for his 
 actions have been disclosed, it would have been found 
 that no remote connection existed between this speech 
 to his daughter, and the attentions to her of the man 
 who had so long monopolized the hitching-rack in front 
 of the Rowdon mansion. 
 
 To this bitter speech of her father, Miss Lunata 
 listened with a perturbed look of mingled surprise and 
 half obstinate defiance. Not one word did she permit 
 to escape her lips during this bout. Still there was 
 disclosed in her countenance more rebellion than she 
 could have revealed in speech. 
 
 Miss Lunata s devotion to her father had hitherto 
 rendered her at all times ready to acquiesce in his 
 wishes. She was an obedient child, and when, in con 
 sequence of the death of her mother, she was placed in 
 a position illy suited to her years, her father s interest 
 inspired her to efforts in her general work of super 
 intendence, which challenged the admiration of the 
 women who had made themselves acquainted with her 
 work. Her father appreciated her self-sacrificing 
 devotion to his interest. He was proud of her, and 
 was especially kind to her. The two tilts he had made
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 339 
 
 with her, over the attention which she was receiving from 
 Prof. Parsons, and which the father believed she 
 sanctioned and approved, were singularly offensive to 
 the high-spirited young lady, as well as matters of 
 surprise. Her filial gratitude was taxed to the very 
 highest point, and she only rebelled when she became 
 convinced that, like the Circassian girl, a price had 
 been put upon her head which she had never indorsed. 
 The conflict was upon her, and Miss Lunata s physical 
 strength was hardly equal to the ordeal. No wonder, 
 therefore, that she looked cowed and disheartened 
 when she met Parsons under the shade of the trees in 
 the country church yard. No wonder that she wore 
 that pallid and gloomy face. Hers had been no mean 
 trial, and, although she stood the test, she did not 
 come therefrom unharmed. 
 
 Seeing the trouble that outlined itself in the counte 
 nance and general appearance of languor which Miss 
 Lunata exhibited, Parsons became somewhat alarmed, 
 and addressing her in sympathetic tenderness, told her 
 that he apprehended it was trouble which had set 
 its signet in the pallor of her face rather than her sick 
 ness that possibly her trouble had given rise to her 
 sickness, and was therefore the real or prime cause of 
 her weakened condition. 
 
 As Parsons looked into the face of the woman he 
 so devotedly loved, he felt disposed to censure himself 
 for the trouble into which he had brought her. He felt 
 conscience-smitten, and had the canopy of the trees 
 beneath which they stood, been a full protection from 
 an outside view, he would, upon bended knees, haye 
 implored her forgiveness for the part he had played in 
 bringing trouble. As it was upon her, he concluded it
 
 340 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 would be wrong to tax her strength longer with the 
 discussion of a question which was necessarily exciting, 
 and therefore proposed to defer what he had sought to 
 say in this interview. He suggested she ought not to 
 remain longer, and that, with her permission, he would 
 see her company get her horse help her into her 
 saddle, and that, at some subsequent meeting, or by 
 letter, he could make known to her the matters he 
 desired to communicate at this meeting. 
 
 Acting upon his advice the two started to the stiles 
 from which she would mount her horse. Parsons saw 
 her in her saddle and she only waited long enough to 
 say that she felt sad at the thought of having to leave 
 him without having had him unburden his full heart to 
 her before she said good-by. She rode away and, 
 while in |the distance, but still in sight, she waved 
 Parsons an adieu. When she was no longer within 
 the range of vision, Parsons [turned, and, with a sad 
 heart, walked away, and, as he walked, he could not 
 refra in from asking himself What Next ?
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 "Entice the trusty sun 
 From his ecliptic line, he shall obey 
 Your heck, and wander from his sphere, ere I 
 From my resolves." 
 
 Baron, 
 
 fHROUGH the agency of young Jerry Lasell, an 
 appointment for another meeting of Miss Lunata 
 Rowclon and Prof. Parsons was made. The place of 
 meeting was the same country church where their 
 last conference had taken place, and the time desig 
 nated was just two weeks subsequent to their last 
 seeing each other. 
 
 Within the two weeks which intervened between the 
 two meetings, Miss Lunata had very much improved, 
 and the roseate hue which usually rivaled the tinting 
 of pink flowers had found its way back to her cheeks. 
 The sparkling brightness of her eyes that was ever 
 wont to lend a charm to her conversation, was again 
 like the lustre of diamonds which had undergone a 
 fresh ablution. In fact, Miss Lunata had come to 
 herself again. But while she seemed to have risen 
 superior to troubles that came so near crushing her 
 young spirit, the spies through whose agency it was 
 supposed she and the young preceptor were to be 
 tracked, and the every movement of the two reported to 
 Mr. Rowdon, she was glad to have discovered were 
 being manipulated by the craft and cunning of Charlie 
 Kirtland, and with such adroitness, too, as that 
 the dubitation of the over-suspicious was being 
 quieted. This was, of course, a matter of special 
 gratification to Miss Lunata. She considered this fact 
 a pledge that she would have a respite from persecution,
 
 342 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 at least for a time, and for this furlough from trouble, 
 her heart went out jin thankfulness to young Kirtland. 
 
 With this allaying of the suspicion which had taken 
 such deep root in the mind of her father, his demeanor 
 towards his daughter underwent a very marked change, 
 and the home seemed to have become again like the 
 home of former days. Her father had noticed that the 
 daughter was fading, as he supposed, under the power 
 of an insidious disease, and he became very much con 
 cerned about her condition, and his attentive kindness 
 so worked upon the native goodness of Miss Lunata s 
 heart that she was ready to forgive him for every harsh 
 word he had spoken to her, in his efforts to subdue her 
 attachment for Prof. Parsons, and she was almost ready 
 to forgive him for his turbulent dislike for the young 
 teacher. 
 
 During the first part of the two weeks which inter 
 vened between Miss Lunata s last interview with 
 Prof. Parsons, and the appointed time for their next 
 conference, she had had a plausible excuse for not 
 seeing Mr. Munson, notwithstanding his horse still 
 continued to be hitched to the self-same post, and 
 which he had so deeply incised with his teeth, as to 
 leave his autograph, as a mark of his constancy. She 
 had been indisposed during the first part of this fort 
 night, and when Aurelius Munson called, of course, she 
 had a legitimate and plausible excuse for not making 
 her appearance. Having heard that he called almost 
 every day, and that he always made inquiry in regard 
 to her health, she began to look upon his visits as 
 something exceedingly commonplace ; and, as he 
 seemed to be satisfied with calling in order to make these 
 inquiries even after she had completely recovered from
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 343 
 
 her ailment, she betook herself to her room, just 
 as soon as his approach was announced, and he had to 
 content himself with an inquiry only. So the two 
 weeks passed and Miss Lunata declared that she had 
 at least had one fortnight of real pleasurable rest from 
 listening to the dull platitudes and cackling laugh of 
 her father s devoted friend. 
 
 When the two weeks, lacking a day, had passed, the 
 up-coming of the sun brought with it a gloriously 
 bright day a day for rest a day for serious self- 
 examination, and especially a day to which Miss 
 Lunata Rowdon and Prof. John Parsons had looked 
 with anxious expectancy. Although separated, exult 
 ant gladness seemed to play such an important part in 
 the actions of each, that one would scarcely have 
 dared to positively assert that, although in their cor 
 poreal natures they were separated, there was not some 
 kind of an interchange of spiritual delights, spiritual 
 hopes, and spiritual aspirations. 
 
 No objection was made by Miss Lunata s father to 
 her attending church, on the day she was to meet 
 Parsons, and at the right time a member of his troop 
 of slaves brought the young lady s horse from the 
 stable well groomed ; and having saddled it, he held it 
 until she made her appearance and mounted it. At the 
 same time Sambo No. 2 led another horse to the blocks 
 and an especial friend of Miss Rowdon mounted this, 
 and the two horses were soon cantering along the road 
 toward the church which had been designated as the 
 trysting-place of the two lovers. 
 
 When Miss Rowdon and her company arrived at the 
 church, Parsons was in waiting for them, and having 
 assisted the young ladies to alight, he gave the horses
 
 344 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 into the care of an attendant servant and escorted the 
 young ladies to the church, and saw that they were 
 comfortably seated near one of the doors, while he 
 sought a place on the opposite side of the room near 
 another door. This action was, of course, preconcerted, 
 and was designed, first, to make an outward exhibit of 
 indifference, as the young people who attended this 
 church and had gentlemen company were always seated 
 in the same pew ; secondly, the selecting of a different 
 seat and that in a different part of the house, and yet 
 each in somewhat close proximity to different doors, 
 was done with a view of having an opportunity for 
 each to leave the house at about the same time, 
 and making their exit from different doors, they did 
 not seem to be acting in concert, or that one was 
 following, the cue of the other. 
 
 A very short hearing was usually given to what the 
 minister had to say. This was especial!} true of those 
 who attended with a view r to seeing and being seen. It 
 was especially true of those who resorted thither as a 
 trysting-place a place where lovers were wont to pour 
 out the emotions of their souls. 
 
 After the exercises had progressed for a time within 
 the church, at a given signal, Parsons indicated to Miss 
 Lunata his design of leaving the house, Miss Lunata 
 saw the signal, and, waiting but a very few moments, 
 she too arose and quitted the house, it being under 
 stood, however, that the young lady who had accom 
 panied her should remain in the church till the close of 
 the services. Once out of the building, although on 
 opposite sides of it, very little time was consumed in 
 finding each other. The two being now alone, Parsons 
 expressed his astonished gratification at seeing what
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 345 
 
 two weeks had done, in restoring beautj T and brightness 
 to the features of his betrothed. 
 
 Very many questions were asked by him, and 
 answered by her, in regard to what she had learned 
 since their last interview in regard to the condition 
 of affairs in her home, as well as to the latest informa 
 tion she had had in regard to her father s nosing 
 committee. Miss Lunata answered all his questions, 
 in the order in which they were asked, and Parsons 
 was delighted and even a jubilant listener. 
 
 Their conversation finally drifted around to the con 
 sideration of the theme which they had undertaken to 
 discuss at a previous interview, but had to abandon on 
 account of Miss Lunata s indisposition, and this meet 
 ing had been decided upon as opportune for the further 
 consideration of this subject. Prof. Parsons, however, 
 injected a question into the conversation which seemed 
 to Miss Pvowdon as only the revamping of several 
 previous questions embodied in one. The question 
 propounded to her was this : 
 
 " Do you not believe that some possible means 
 might be discovered whereby the prejudices of your 
 father against me could be removed?" 
 
 Miss Lunata responded, saying that she thought the 
 same question had been fully, formally and finally 
 settled in a former interview. She would, however, 
 reiterate her answer, and emphasize the same by 
 saying, that if the laws of the Medes and Persians 
 were changeless, they were not more so, than would be 
 the edict of her father against their proposed marriage. 
 
 "I had hoped for something better, My Dear 
 Lunata," said Parsons, "but accepting your expressed 
 views of his unalterable decree as being fully and
 
 346 WHAT NEXT? OB 
 
 literally true, we are again brought face to face with a 
 proposition which must be considered with all the 
 seriousness which its importance demands. As the 
 matter now stands, I repeat what I have said before, 
 I can see no means of escape from the flagrant 
 injustice and cruel authority of your father except 
 through flight. I know you have magnanimously 
 proposed to follow my lead, but in view of the 
 weighty possibilities that necessarily connect them 
 selves with such a move, it might be well that we 
 re-examine carefully the proposed action before making 
 a final decision. I consider it a compliment that you 
 have expressed a willingness to pull yourself away 
 from the proposed thraldom to which the cupidity of 
 an avaricious father would consign you, and go with 
 me in quest of a new and better prospect for happiness. 
 But my dearest Lunata, I would not for the world, 
 were it mine, lead you to fly from present ills, with the 
 possibility of falling into severer trials that you know 
 not of. At least give the subject the study which its 
 importance demands. Please allow me then, my 
 dearest Lunata, in the presence of Heaven and yourself 
 as witnesses to be wholly honest, here and now ! 
 
 To run away from your father from your home 
 from your family and from your friends; to risk your 
 chances in the stubborn fight of life, with a young 
 man who has not even a home of his own to which he 
 can take you, to make the best of it, seems very 
 unpromising. I have no wealth either in money or 
 lands. I am poor, and you would become the sharer 
 of my poverty. You would cut yourself off from 
 being a participator in the richest abundance. You 
 would forfeit your claims to the sheltering roof of your
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 34T 
 
 childhood. You would rob yourself of the minister 
 ing attentions of the home servants, who are ever more 
 than willing to pander to your wants." 
 
 "0, My! Are you attempting, Prof. Parsons, to 
 draw a picture of such frightful realities as will scare 
 me from my resolution ? Are you trying to drive me 
 to a recantation of every pledge I have made you? " 
 
 By no means, my dearest Lunata. I am only 
 trying to view the question we have before us from the 
 stand-points of genuine honesty. I neither want to 
 deceive myself nor lead you to take a step, which, 
 when taken, can not be retraced ; lest you may dis 
 cover, when too late, that you have made a fatal 
 mistake." 
 
 " Indeed, Prof. Parsons, as a faithful limner, can 
 your brush not paint a brighter side to your picture ? 
 I can not think your vision is so narrow 7 as not to be 
 able to discover some sunshine amid, or beyond so 
 much shadow. Is there not sunshine somewhere 
 along the road over which you propose we shall travel?" 
 
 "I hope, dearest, there is, and if I did not think 
 there was, I would most solemnly protest against 
 taking you out into a world that was all dark and 
 dreary. But it is my honest purpose to try and look 
 at all sides of this question, that neither you nor I 
 may make any serious blunders." 
 
 "As the antithesis of what I have presented, you 
 are to be compensated for your loss of the comforts of 
 home and a father s blessing by the devotional love 
 and adoration of him who will try to be for you more 
 than all these. For your loss of wealth in money and 
 lands, he who stands in your presence, will bring to your 
 keeping a heart in which is stored a wealth of devotion
 
 -348 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 that can neither be wasted, lost, nor diminished. For the 
 loss of the comforts of affluence, you would become 
 the partner in pleasures and delights which would be 
 an inheritance that wealth can not buy. For the loss 
 of the abundance in leaving the home of your young 
 womanhood, you would have enough, and that enough 
 would be sweetened by the Heaven-inspired song of hap 
 piness and peace. For the forfeiture of the sheltering 
 roof of your girl-hood life, you would flj- from it to 
 seek protection where love abides and where you can 
 find shelter in these arms from cruelty and injustice." 
 
 " Now Prof. Parsons ; you seem to be yourself again. 
 You have found some lights with which to set off the 
 shadows of life, and I now desire to candidly assure 
 you that I have had no thought of finding life all 
 flowers and no thorns. I only hope I may have the 
 .good judgment and grace to gather what iiowers I can 
 in the journey and receive but few wounds from the 
 thorns." 
 
 "My dearest Lunata; your calm and deliberate way 
 of viewing the responsibility which you are proposing 
 to assume, amazes me, and I now swear, with my 
 hand stretched Heavenward, as though I would call 
 the region of the blest to bear solemn attestation to 
 my oath, that I will live in eternal fidelity to my every 
 vow, and show undeviating fealty to my every promise, 
 should our final decision of this question bring us 
 together as one." 
 
 "Turn the light on a few times more, Prof. Parsons; 
 and I will feel that I am about ready to start now. I 
 am sure I do not need an} r further urging, and from the 
 way you now talk I think a large share of your coward 
 ice will soon be in hiding."
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 349 1 
 
 There is no cowardice, my dearest Lunata, in any 
 thing I have said. It is honesty that sternly demands 
 that all sides of this weighty subject should be consid 
 ered. I confess I am unable to make any side of it 
 as promisng as I would like to have it. The risk in 
 this matter is largely yours. My part of the hazard 
 lies in the danger of my incapacity to fully carry 
 forward my intentions. The good Lord did not give 
 me a big physical nature, but I think I have a body 
 that is built of good material and well put together. I 
 am clean limbed, active and stout for one of my 
 weight. I have a large share of ambition and aspire 
 to be something and do something in the world. I 
 may not be able to climb very high on the rungs 
 of fame s ladder, but you may rest satisfied that I 
 do not intend to stay at the bottom. I think I have a 
 fair share of common sense and an education which, if 
 properly handled, will enable me to take care of you 
 first, and give me plentj . I think my devotion to you 
 will ever prompt me to make 3 r our comfort a matter of 
 primary importance. I believe, furthermore, that my 
 industry will always make me an earnest worker, 
 especially when I have weighing upon my mind the 
 fact that a dear, good girl has placed herself in my 
 keeping for weal or woe. The banner which I shall 
 carry will never be over-written by the word failure. I 
 intend to knuckle to no discouragements, nor will I 
 bow before any misfortune unless it be to accident, 
 disease or death. I have now, my dear Lunata, given 
 you all sides of my picture, and presented all its 
 phases as faithfully and honestly as in my power lies. 
 You have doubtless contemplated a somewhat similar 
 picture in your hours of quiet reflection and have now
 
 350 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 had it presented fresh from my own solicitous investi 
 gation. Tell me, dearest, has this study led to a 
 change in your resolution, or do you still decide to 
 adhere thereto, and risk the chances for success?" 
 
 To this frank and manly presentation of both phases 
 of the subject which had been under discussion, Miss 
 Rowdon made a calm, yet earnest reply. She told 
 Prof. Parsons that her decision having been fully made 
 to risk the step, she considered his venture as greater 
 than hers. When I start with you, you will take under 
 your protecting wing, a girl who is without expe 
 rience, in very much which is needed to qualify and fit 
 her for the duties of a wife a girl, who, if she were 
 thrown upon her own resources, would be a very 
 novice in almost every obligation of life. With my 
 imperfections I believe you would be disposed to exer 
 cise patience, and I will trust you for everything. 
 Somewhere, and I believe not far away, there is a foun 
 tain whose healing power, for trouble such as ours, is 
 a better specific than were the waters of the ancient 
 Judean Bethesda for curing bodily afflictions. We 
 will hunt that fountain, and although no angel may be 
 present to trouble the waters so as to give healing, we 
 w r ill know that Eros has recommended the waters 
 whose remedial effects we seek, and we will step in and 
 be cured of the pangs which anxiety gives. Yes, 
 Prof. Parsons, I think the only remedy we can find is 
 in union, and, at the proper time, I will be ready to 
 lay my sacred offering upon the altar of Apollo s son. 
 The up s and down s the anxieties and fears the 
 fitful flashes of a brightening hope and the foreboding 
 clouds of impending uncertainty, to which both of us 
 have been exposed for quite a while, have well nigh
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 351 
 
 proven too much for my physical endurance. I am 
 very much better than when we last met, still, I am, by 
 no means, well, and h?ve probably run some risk in 
 coming out today. If I had not been extremely anx 
 ious to see you, I would certainly not have ventured 
 out." 
 
 " Did your father make any objection to your attend 
 ing church today?" said Parsons. 
 
 None whatever, answered Miss Lunata ; and 
 had he expressed any disapprobation about my coming, 
 I think it would have been because I was not well." 
 
 " Do you think then that the suspicions of your 
 father have been to any extent allayed? " 
 
 "I do," said she, " and such a result has been due 
 to the adroit course pursued by Charles Kirtland. Alf 
 Watson, as I understand the matter, is playing into 
 Charlie s hand, and is completely under his control. 
 Any and every thing that Alf knows, and is carrying 
 around with him as a supposed secret, you may find 
 out by inquiry from Charlie." 
 
 " I am keeping posted along that line," said Parsons. 
 "There is a distinct understanding between Kirtland 
 and myself as to the course he is to pursue, and 
 what he is now doing to hood-wink Alf Watson, 
 is only carrying forward plans which had been pre 
 viously agreed upon. The execution of these plans 
 have so worked as to disarm, measurably, the sus 
 picion of your father, and have quieted the jealousy of 
 Munson. This is a matter of special pleasure to me. 
 It at least gives us a modicum of rest, and has doubt 
 less opened the way for your attending church today. 
 
 " By the way; suppose your father had entered an
 
 352 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 objection to your coming out today, what would you 
 have done ? " 
 
 " Like a good girl," said Lunata, "I would have 
 submitted uncomplainingly submitted, and would 
 have concealed from him the bitterness of my disap 
 pointment. One positive prohibitory order would have 
 been sufficient. As long as I remain under the pater 
 nal roof, I shall remain the subject of paternal control, 
 except in matters which involve my conscience. Had 
 my father had any idea that my wanting to attend 
 church this morning was prompted by a desire and 
 expectation of meeting you, his estoppal upon my going 
 would have been mandatory, and more positive than 
 polite." 
 
 "My father, Prof. Parsons, has been accustomed to 
 having everything on his premises yield a ready obedi 
 ence to his every command. No one of our entire 
 household has ever thought of lifting an objection to 
 his wishes. He has always been looked up to as a 
 wise counselor and a most liberal provider for every 
 want. He has been patient, and has never refused to 
 humor our whims or smypathize with us in our childish 
 troubles. To have his oldest daughter array herself 
 in open revolt against his cherished purpose in regard 
 to her matrimonial choice, has therefore been a matter 
 of very serious concern to him. He seems to have a 
 fixed idea that his wishes be complied with, in refer 
 ence to the man with whom I am to consort, just as 
 readily, as I would yield submission to any other wish 
 which he might make. I have no hesitancy in believ 
 ing he thinks that he has a perfect moral right to 
 dictate with whom I must wed. I think very differ 
 ently. Had I been brought up in the Orient, where
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 353 
 
 women are reared to be disposed of at public vendue 
 to turbaned Turks, I might entertain entirely different 
 views as to a woman s personal obligations. But with 
 my surroundings ; with my views of what is right ; 
 with my knowledge of my country s correct practices, 
 I am sure that I, at least, ought to be consulted as to 
 whom my heart and hand should be bound by matri 
 monial ties. So deeply am I impressed with this right 
 that, under no circumstances, could I be induced or 
 coerced to violate, in so important a matter, what I 
 conceive to be a conscientious duty." 
 
 The vexed and much-discussed question is now 
 settled," said Parsons. A new problem is, in conse 
 quence of this settlement, at once sprung upon us and 
 is demanding a solution. We must now go further 
 and decide, as to the time, when we will embark upon 
 a trip that will land us in the port of wedlock, wherein 
 we will cast anchor only long enough to get our 
 passports, and then, weighing anchor, set sail upon a 
 sea which is new and untried. 0, my dear girl ! may 
 old Neptune rock gently our craft, and help us to steer 
 clear of the breakers upon which so many life-boats 
 have foundered ! 
 
 This is an issue, Miss Lunata, we can not dodge. 
 It must be met, and the sooner it is met, the sooner 
 will the quietude of contentment nestle about us. I 
 would not, of course, urge an immediate decision. 
 The present is no time, nor is this the place, to weigh, 
 and report upon something of such vital importance 
 to both of us. The final answer, in this matter, is 
 left wholly with you. That ample time be allowed, in 
 which you may reach a satisfactory conclusion, we 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 28.
 
 354 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 will appoint some future meeting, at which your 
 answer can be made known. In the meantime, I will 
 keep you advised in regard to such things as I may 
 deem of sufficient importance to justify the sending of 
 a letter t^ you." 
 
 Just as this promise was made, it was observed that 
 the congregation had been dismissed, and that the 
 audience was emerging from the different doors. Par 
 sons at once went to the door from which Miss Lunata 
 had made her exit, and as soon as the young lady who 
 had accompanied her to church made her appearance, 
 he escorted the two to where the servant was holding 
 their horses. He saw each of them in their saddles, 
 and bidding him good by they rode away, and were 
 soon lost to his view. 
 
 As soon as the young ladies were out of his sight, 
 Parsons went to where his own horse was hitched, arid 
 mounting him, he too was soon on his way homeward. 
 He was happier and more elated than he had been for 
 many a daj 7 , and in the midst of his exuberant joy, he 
 repeated a couplet from Erin s bard and repeated it 
 aloud 
 
 Oh ! what was love made for, if tis not the same 
 
 Thro joy, aud through torments, thro glory and shame? 
 
 Just at this moment Kirtland, who had rode up by 
 the side of his teacher unobserved by him, asked upon 
 what subject he was soliloquising, and Parsons having 
 given him an evasive answer, Kirtland remarked that 
 he had but a few hours ago made a gleaning which had 
 brought to light some facts which he thought were of 
 importance to him, and that he had hurried his horse 
 to a better speed, that, overtaking him, he might com 
 municate them to him before he reached his boarding- 
 house.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 355 
 
 " What are they ? " said Prof. Parsons ; " I am about 
 ready for anything now, unless it be imprisonment." 
 
 Kirtland informed his teacher that there had been a 
 very material change made in the Rowdon program ; 
 that he did not think there was any fresh outbreak of 
 suspicion, unless it was with Munson, but that he 
 had learned from Alf. Watson that there was to be 
 instituted a new line of proceeding in regard to the 
 case of his teacher. That Rowdon, Munson and Co. 
 having utterly failed in their effort to stir up a preju 
 dice against him that would result in his resigning his 
 place in the neighbood as teacher, and a consequent 
 relinquishment of all claims upon the community, as 
 well as a final self-banishment from the neighborhood, 
 they had now resolved to try to draw him into a per 
 sonal difficulty with one or the other of the men 
 named. From what he had learned, he said he 
 thought it was understood that Alf Watson was to 
 make the attack, and that Parsons was to be roundly 
 abused by him for some charge that would be trumped 
 up for the occasion. If this insult was resented, he was 
 to be drawn into a personal rencounter with Watson 
 Kirtland further informed Parsons that Munson was 
 stooping to the low and debasing use of outspoken 
 misrepresentations in order to create a sentiment of 
 ill-will against the man of whom he was jealous. 
 
 When these facts were communicated to Parsons he 
 was almost dazed at the audacity which led to such 
 bitter and unjustifiable persecution. It lessened and 
 lowered his opinion of humanity, especially that por 
 tion of it who, with jaundiced eyes and corrupted 
 minds, were willing to crush the hopes and murder the 
 prospects of an unoffending and industrious worker
 
 356 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 for a living and a name. He felt humiliated that he 
 should have fallen into the hands of people in the 
 community who knew nothing of justice, and who 
 were willing to resort to the foulest of means to accom 
 plish that which honest dealing failed to achieve. 
 But there was comfort and consolation for the young 
 Professor in the thought that the almost unanimous 
 voice of the communitj 7 was loud in its commendation 
 and praise of him and his work. The more especial 
 source of gratification to him was the knowledge that 
 there was one noble spirit, not far away, the pulsations 
 of whose heart beat in sympathy with his, and whose 
 arm, if in her power, would be for him a shield and 
 buckler too. 
 
 Such was the train ot thoughts that ran through the 
 mind of Parsons immediately upon the reception of 
 the news which Kirtland had communicated. They 
 passed, however, without leaving a mark of anger upon 
 his face, and he quietty advised Kirtland to keep the 
 whole of what he had repeated to him as a secret 
 between them only, and cautioned him to continue his 
 watchfulness, and to be ever on the alert. He directed 
 him to gather all the additional information he could, 
 and assured Charlie that he believed the perfidious 
 plans which were being matured for his downfall might 
 yet be forstalled. 
 
 Parsons informed Kirtland that, in the meantime, he 
 would procure an excellent pair of duelling pistols 
 to be used only in case of an emergency. That if 
 he did not know exactly what that meant, he would 
 explain it for him , Speaking in a rather resolute style 
 Parsons said : "I simply mean this. You have stated 
 that I am to be abused, and that Alf. Watson is prob-
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 357 
 
 ably the party who has been appointed to discharge 
 that duty. Hear me please. I do not intend to allow 
 him or am* one else to abuse me. I have done nothing 
 worthy of abuse, and even if I had, I. am sure I would 
 never allow my chastisement to be meted out by the 
 hands of a fool. I do not intend to allow any man to 
 try to draw me into a personal encounter with him 
 without defiantly resenting it. Watson will weigh 
 nearly twice what I do. In a personal combat, without 
 arms, I suppose he would be more than my match ; 
 but, even if we were of equal size and weight, I would 
 feel it to be a degradation to enter into a fisticuff with 
 a man who has shown himself to be an unprincipled 
 ruffian. I am a moderately fair shot, but will rub up a 
 little in the use of such fire-arms as I would use in 
 case of necessity. By a little careful practice (while I 
 can hardlj* say that I apprehend any danger) I will 
 put myself in trim to hurt Watson if I can, provided 
 he is not extremely careful what he says, and how he 
 says it. I do not wish to take any advantage of him, 
 and, if it comes in the way, you can say to him, that 
 if he undertakes to humiliate me to drag me into 
 a personal rencounter with him, I will surely kill him 
 if I can." 
 
 "I would certainly sorely regret, Prof. Parsons, to 
 see you get into any difficulty," said Kirtland, " but I 
 am persuaded there is a conspiracy at work in the 
 neighborhood, and that the conspirators are leaving no 
 device untried in order to compass their desires. Tt 
 has become very evident to me, within the last few 
 days, that the entire Watson family have been drawn 
 into the ranks of the traducers of your good name. 
 Alf. is the oldest son of the family, and the only one
 
 358 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 who has ever secured employment from home, and the 
 rest of the household are disposed to regard him as the 
 ornamental hero of the Watson household. It is 
 the baneful influence which he has exerted in the 
 family that has wrought this change. 
 
 " He wants their influence in helping to down } T OU," 
 said Kirtland, " and is willing to sacrifice the good 
 name they have long borne in the neighborhood rather 
 than fail to please his employer who really looks upon 
 him with scorn, because of the contemptuous work to 
 which he has temporarily sold himself." 
 
 " What you say, Charlie Kirtland, may be all correct, 
 and most likely is ; but it will take time to unravel 
 very much that has been connected with the ordeal 
 through which I am being passed. It is severe, but I 
 think I can stand it it is trying, but for the sake of 
 her who is to be the prize which integrity and honor 
 able deportment is trying to win, I have confidence in 
 my ultimate success. Be you careful, Charlie, to keep 
 as a profound secret all that has passed between us, with 
 the exception of what I told you, might be communi 
 cated by you to Alf Watson. Keep an eye on the move 
 ments, and an ear open to the comments of the whole 
 Watson family. Catch any criticism they may make, 
 if 3 r ou can, in regard to what I have recently been 
 doing, as well as what the} ma}" have to say about 
 what I am now doing. I had hoped there would not 
 arise an immediate necessity for my leaving the Wat 
 son home before the expiration of my school session, 
 but I am somewhat apprehensive that Alf has so prej 
 udiced the other members of the family against me, 
 that to remain would be unpleasant for me, and there 
 fore make it necessary that I should hunt boarding 
 with some one else among my patrons."
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 359 
 
 " By the way, Prof. Parsons, there is another thing 
 that I ought perhaps to have mentioned to you. It is 
 seemingly a very small matter, but small matters 
 sometimes contain kernels that may grow into some 
 thing very important/ 
 
 "A few evenings ago Mrs. Watson indulged in a 
 rather carping criticism about a conversation which 
 took place between you and her, something near two 
 months since. She stated that inasmuch as the 
 report had become somewhat current that you were 
 visiting Miss Rowdon with a serious purpose in view, 
 and furthermore, that having become apprised of the 
 fact that Mr. Rowdon had grown uneasy because of 
 your attentions to his daughter, she had thought it 
 advisable that she notify you of the fact. That she 
 did so ; whereupon you had replied by stating that Mr. 
 Henry Rowdon need give himself no unnecessary 
 trouble in regard to your stealing his daughter ; that 
 there were too many good-looking and worthy girls in 
 this country, that you could get, without the necessity 
 of purloining one of his, even if you wanted a wife 
 ever so badly ; and that you had requested her, as a 
 matter of favor to you, to get her husband to incident 
 ally mention what you had said to Mr. Rowdon, if a 
 favorable opportunity offered, and thereby quiet his 
 apprehensions in regard to the danger of having a pil 
 ferer to rob him of his daughter. She stated that 
 nothing more took place between you and her with 
 reference to Miss Rowdon, until last Sunday afternoon ; 
 but that you reached home a little after the usual dinner 
 hour, and she and you were seated at the dining table, 
 when you again brought up the subject of Mr. Row- 
 don s fears, and that you asked her if she had made
 
 360 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 known your request to her husband about what you 
 wanted him to say to" Mr. Rowdon in regard to the 
 possibility of his losing Miss Lunata by theft. That 
 she told you she had not ; and that thereupon you had 
 said to her, you wished to recall that request, claiming 
 that you were under no obligation whatever to act as 
 an agent in helping to quiet Mr. Rowdon s fears. She 
 further stated, that Mr. Watson, Sr., at the time the 
 last conversation took place between her and you, was 
 lying upon a sofa in the far end of the dining-room, 
 and without your being cognizant of his presence, had 
 heard all of the last conversation, at the close of 
 which you reiterated your statement about your acting 
 as his accommodating agent, and added, that Mr. 
 Rowdon s conduct towards you had been of such a 
 character as to banish any desire that you might 
 hitherto have had to gratify him, -or ease his mind in 
 regard to the loss of his daughter by any act of yours." 
 
 "Whether there is any importance to be attached to 
 this colloquy between you and Mrs. Watson or not. I 
 do not know, but I was surprised when I learned today 
 that your second conversation had been carried, within 
 two hours after it took place, straight to Mr. Rowdon s 
 ears." 
 
 "While Mrs. Watson was telling me what you said 
 to her, it became evident to me that her feelings 
 towards you had undergone a very great change, and I 
 therefore supposed your conclusion, with reference to 
 the strained relations between you and the Watson 
 family, were altogether correct." 
 
 " It seems to me, Kirtland," said Prof. Parsons, 
 "that the clouds are thickening about me that they 
 hang lower and more turbulently threatening that
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 361 
 
 they are ominously foreboding. Well, be it so. By 
 the power of Him who is the author of justice, wrong 
 must not, can not triumph. This right arm, if need 
 be, must disperse the overhanging gloom, and unless I 
 underrate my own resolution, those clouds can not 
 hang long where they now are. I will try to curb my 
 impulsiveness and practice prudence and caution. I 
 feel confident that, before the waxing and waning of 
 many more moons, my horizon will be cleared and 
 there will dawn upon me the light of a brighter 
 life." 
 
 The two young men having reached their boarding- 
 house, the subject of their conversation was brought 
 to a close ; and their horses being turned into the 
 hands of a servant, each of the young men repaired to 
 his room and underwent the usual ablutions prepara 
 tory to taking his dinner. In the dining-room Prof. 
 Parsons wore his accustomed pleasant face, and, from 
 his manner, no one would have supposed that there 
 throbbed in his bosom a troubled heart. Neither his 
 usual affability nor his grace of manner forsook him. 
 He participated in the general running conversation as 
 though no shadow had crossed the threshold of that 
 home to blight his pleasure. After dinner he again 
 went to his room, and amid the mental shadows that 
 hovered around him he anxiously asked himself 
 What Next ?
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " From cloud to cloud the rending lightnings rage; 
 Till, hi the furious elemental war 
 Dlssolv d, the whole precipitated mass 
 Unbroken floods and solid torrents pour." 
 
 Thompson. 
 
 HERE was one member of the Watson family 
 whom Prof. Parsons saw comparatively little of. 
 As said in a former part of this writing, she was 
 attending a boarding school in a neighboring 
 town and, although she came home on Friday evening of 
 each week, her time of home-coming generally coin 
 cided with the time he was leaving his boarding-place 
 to find company and pleasure somewhere else. Still, 
 as he did not leave home with the close of his every 
 week s work, he had, in that way, become quite well 
 acquainted with Miss Ida Watson. She was younger 
 than her sister Miss Lena was very much handsomer 
 and, for a number of reasons, very much more attrac 
 tive. From the time that she and Prof. Parsons came 
 to know each other quite well, she was quite fond of 
 his company and made no effort to disguise that fact. 
 In speaking of him to visitors, as well as to her asso 
 ciates generally, he was always complimented for his 
 genial disposition, for his uniform politeness, and for 
 his unusual intelligence. Through the influence which 
 Miss Ida wielded in the Watson home, especially with 
 her mother, there was a suppression of what would 
 otherwise have been a plainer exhibition of the family s 
 unkind feelings towards Prof. Parsons. Indeed there 
 was no telling how far the influence of Miss Ida was 
 made potent in holding in check the threatened trouble 
 between her eldest brother and the young teacher.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 363 
 
 It is strangely curious how personal influence works ; 
 whether we consider its workings in the species of infe 
 rior animals, or in man. In man this influence is 
 more perceptible than in any of the species below him, 
 and is possibly less and less perceptible as we climb down 
 the scale of animated nature. All gregarious animals 
 especially, exhibit what we call influence in man. The 
 simple fact that they flock or herd together is through 
 the influence which one has with another. The stam 
 peding of a herd of cattle, or the disastrous flight of a 
 drove of horses is proof that there is an inexplicable 
 something which sets the multitude in motion and I 
 call it influence. Do you say it is fear; then how does 
 it come that all are frightened at the same moment ? 
 
 The plain truth is, that judgment is too often 
 silenced in the presence of an influence which is exer 
 cised under the potent pressure of a corrupt prejudice. 
 This was true in the Watson case. The judgment of 
 that family, if left uninfluenced by the corrupt and 
 depraved conduct of the eldest son, would have given 
 an unqualified statement that Prof. Parsons was a 
 gentleman, in the very best sense of that word. 
 
 As proof of this being the way that an evil influence 
 may corrupt and alter the judgment of a family, it 
 need only be said that in the first conversation between 
 Prof. Parsons and Mrs. Watson, in regard to Mr. Henry 
 Rowdon s objection to having the young teacher as a 
 suitor for his daughter s hand, Mrs. Watson, in that 
 conversation, was quite severe upon the injustice and 
 avarice of her neighbor Rowdon, while, in the second 
 conversation, as she reported it to Kirtland, she was 
 full of censure against Parsons for interrupting the 
 arrangements which Mr. Rowdon had made for dis-
 
 364 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 posing of the affections of Miss Lunata. But for the 
 fact that her oldest son had become an important 
 factor, in the management of Miss Rowdon s love 
 matters, as his mother thought, the case in hand 
 would be strange beyond explaining. 
 
 Somebody once said that, "a poor excuse is better 
 than no excuse" and it was hung up among our 
 national adages. Thousands have used it since its 
 first utterance, in explaining delinquencies and trying 
 to satisfy the qualms of a conscience that had been 
 disturbed by some doubtful action. This must have 
 been true in the case of the Watsons. The general 
 verdict of that family up to the time that Alf. Watson 
 put in an appearance under a new role, and was pro 
 moted from an unemployed and ignorant civilian s 
 position to that of chief spy in the pay of farmer 
 Rowdon, was that Parsons was a polite and high-toned 
 gentleman, and that he had conducted the best school, 
 by large odds, that had been taught in that part of 
 the county. 
 
 Suddenly, yes, just as soon as the announcement 
 had been made of Alf s. promotion, the still hunt began 
 for finding some excuse to urge against Parsons system 
 of teaching. Watson s younger children, like the 
 older boys, were very dull, and while their progress 
 WPS slow, it was better by far than it had ever been 
 under any former teacher ; still these children were, to 
 the amusement of almost everybody in the neighbor 
 hood, brought forward as an excuse for the opposition 
 which had so recently developed against Prof. Parsons 
 as a teacher. The more astute critics were not slow 
 in discovering that the objections filed against the 
 teacher, by the Watsons, were presented for the pur-
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 365 
 
 pose of pleasing Mr. Rowdon. They supposed Row- 
 don only wanted an excuse for coming out boldly 
 against Prof. Parsons as a teacher, which he had not 
 yet done, and the Watsons proposed to help him do 
 so by their complaints. 
 
 While the Watson family were maturing the adop 
 tion of means whereby the members thereof could 
 singly and collectively give apparent importance to the 
 sinister work to which Alf. had been appointed by Mr. 
 Rowdon, it was a noted fact, that Miss Ida Watson 
 arrayed herself in open hostility to the course the rest 
 of the household was pursuing in regard to the affairs 
 of Prof. Parsons. She boldly asserted that they were 
 making themselves more conspicuous as meddlers 
 busy-bodies in matters of no importance to them than 
 justice would warrant. She defiantly assured her 
 father, that she had a far higher appreciation of the 
 friendship and good will of Prof. Parsons than she had 
 for the meager share of either, which Mr. Rowdon had 
 to bestow. What does he care about you or yours ? 
 If he can get the better of you in a trade, you know 
 from experience that he has no scruples of conscience 
 even in dealing with you as his neighbor. What if he 
 has employed Alf. as his spy? Should the pitiful 
 wages which he receives for what he is doing buy all 
 the Watsons and put them to spying too? She told 
 her father that his espousal of Mr. Rowdon s trouble 
 would result in no good to any one, but might eventu 
 ate in harm to Prof. Parsons, whom she regarded as a 
 gentlemen, and above reproach. In this way did the 
 daughter speak of the flimsy pretext upon which her 
 father s prejudice was based, and in this way did she 
 show her superior reasoning, as compared with that of 
 her father.
 
 366 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 Late in the afternoon of the day, subsequent to the 
 one on which Kirtland had made known to Parsons 
 the purposes of his persecutors, he ordered his horse 
 and without intimating to any one where he was going, 
 or when he would return, he rode away. After the 
 family had retired for the night he returned, and 
 having put his horse in his accustomed stall, went 
 directly to his room. Lighting a candle, he unbuckled 
 a concealed belt from about his waist containing a 
 pair of fine dueling pistols laid them upon his table 
 put himself in his sleeping apparel blew out the 
 candle and retired for the night. 
 
 Before sunrise on the following morning the Profes 
 sor was up and restlessly paced back and forth across 
 his room till called to breakfast. While partaking of 
 the morning meal, he betrayed no unusual emotion 
 no noticeable excitement whatever. He conversed in 
 his usual fluent and agreeable style, and, even the 
 closest observer could not have discovered that he was 
 disturbed by anything that was weighing heavily upon 
 his mind. 
 
 Immediately after breakfast he passed up to his 
 room made some changes in his dress buckled his 
 belt of arms about him, and calling to Kirtland to- 
 know if he was ready, and that young gentleman 
 joining him, the two started for school. On the way,, 
 the subject which had been the chief theme for their 
 recent talks was called up, but comparatively little 
 was said. There had been no new developments in 
 the Rowdon case, as far as either of them had discov 
 ered, although Parsons said he had been on the lookout, 
 and Kirtland declared he had been using his inquiry- 
 pump upon Alf. Watson.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 367 
 
 Upon closing the school for the day, instead of going 
 immediately home, as was his custom, Parsons sought 
 a sequestered spot in a lonely ravine upon a neighboring 
 farm, and, amid the concealment furnished by the 
 dense foliage of the trees, began his pistol practice. 
 This he kept up until the gray of the coming night 
 rendered the light too dim for him to make any head 
 way in improving his marksmanship. Evening after 
 evening this practice was kept up for nearly a week, 
 and as Alf. Watson noticed that the Professor whom 
 he had been hired to watch was not coming home at 
 his usual hour, he determined to ascertain what he was 
 doing each day from the close of his school work until 
 nightfall. Alf. therefore put himself upon the track 
 and followed Parsons at such a distance as not to be- 
 observed by the latter, and found that he was shelter 
 ing himself from sight and was practicing pistol 
 shooting in the ravine previously mentioned. Alf. 
 stole up as close as he thought he could venture and 
 watched every movement which Parsons made, until he 
 saw him encase his pistols, button the cases to their belt 
 and then turn and walk away. Considering himself 
 interested, to a small extent, in the expertness of the 
 shooting to which he had been a hidden witness, he 
 waited till Parsons was well out of sight, and then 
 walked to, and examined the board which had been 
 fastened to the side of a large tree, and about five feet 
 from the ground. Upon examination of the board 
 which was about fourteen inches square, he found that 
 the practicing marksman, had kept a kind of tally of 
 his shooting. Upon his first day s practice, into every 
 hole where a ball had entered he had thrust a peg and 
 marked it with the figure 1. In his second day &.
 
 368 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 shooting, when he was through, he put a peg in each 
 ball-hole and marked each with the figure 2. Every 
 day s skill in handling that kind of fire-arms was 
 thus registered, and Alf. Watson learned that Parsons 
 was a marksman whose shooting would make him a 
 dangerous man to encounter in a duel with pistols. 
 
 On the following morning Alf. asked Charlie Kirtland 
 if he knew why Parsons had been engaged for a num 
 ber of evenings in practicing pistol shooting. To this 
 Kirtland responded by saying that he did not know 
 that his teacher had been so doing, and asked Alf if 
 his information in regard to the matter was reliable. 
 Alf answered very promptly that his information 
 ought to be considered reliable, as all the evidence 
 was furnished by his own eyes. 
 
 Inasmuch as you have asked me why Prof. Parsons 
 is thus engaged at a certain hour of the afternoon, I 
 will answer your question by stating that he surmises 
 that there is a combined effort, or a sort of conspiracy, 
 upon the part of a certain set of people in this local 
 ity to crowd him to the wall, or, in other words, to 
 make it so very unpleasant for him as to render it 
 almost absolutely necessary that he should abandon 
 his school and quit the neighborhood. Indeed, said 
 he to Alf, threats have been made against him, as I, 
 myself can testify. Possibly these threats have 
 reached his ears, and he is threfore trying his hand, to 
 see what it could do in case an emergency made it 
 necessary for him to defend himself. But, as we have 
 that subject up, Alf, I have this much to say, and 
 would like to emphasize what I do say. I know Prof. 
 Parsons better than any of you. I have known him 
 longer and more intimately than any of you. I want
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 369 
 
 therefore to assure you that if there is to be an effort 
 made to coerce him into measures of any kind what 
 ever, the party who undertakes to work that game will 
 run a serious and dangerous risk. This I know. I 
 saw an effort made to mistreat him once in his history, 
 and the man who undertook the job was made to 
 " take water," as the saying goes, like he was used to 
 it. My advice, be it worth much or little, to any one 
 who expects to scare him to get the advantage of 
 him by reason of a bigger share of corporeal strength 
 to insult him without paying a big penalty for his 
 temerity, or to undertake to drive him, had better 
 study him a little more, and thereby be the better able 
 to compute the cost. The party who attacks him 
 may, by getting the advantage of him, kill him, but 
 advantage or no advantage, he will never be scared. 
 I have seen Prof. Parsons metal put to the test in 
 more ways than one, and his gentlemanly pluck never 
 forsook him. He is peaceable, as you well know, but 
 the man who presumes that he can run over him, or 
 humiliate him, and is willing to try it, had better 
 wear a superior coat of mail to anything of the kind 
 manufactured in this country. 
 
 At this point the conversation between Charlie Kirt- 
 land and Alf. Watson closed and was never again 
 renewed. 
 
 Parsons, on the Saturday succeeding the events so 
 far recorded in this chapter, decided that on the next 
 day he would visit some of the good people in the neigh 
 borhood where he had formerly taught. Accordingly, 
 when the morning came and he had partaken of break 
 fast, he started early to make his intended visit. 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 24.
 
 370 WHAT NEXT? OB 
 
 During the week preceding this ride, he had not 
 heard anything from Miss Rowdon, and consequently 
 did not know whether she was sick or well, at home or 
 abroad. In passing to and from his school he had 
 not seen her, and a prudent caution would not allow 
 him to make any inquiry of her pupil sisters as to her 
 whereabouts, or even to ask if she were well. 
 
 As Parsons rode through the adjacent town, by a 
 mere fortuity he discovered that Miss Lunata was 
 visiting therein a special friend of her father s family, 
 and would remain with them for several days. 
 
 Parsons made his visit, and upon his return late in 
 the afternoon, he stopped at the hotel upon reaching 
 town. Here he had his horse stabled, with instruction 
 to the hostler, that, inasmuch as he expected to take a 
 late ride that night, he would call for his horse about 
 11 o clock. 
 
 Parsons correctly judged that Miss Lunata would 
 attend some one of the churches that night. He 
 therefore put himself in a position on the street where 
 he could see her pass, in going from the home in which 
 she was visiting, and without any necessity of making 
 inquiry, by card or otherwise, as to what church sl.e 
 would attend. He succeeded in making the discover} , 
 and after she, her escort and a young lady friend had 
 found seats among the congregation, Prof. Parsons 
 walked lightly in, and seated himself in the extreme 
 rear end of the building. 
 
 Upon the adjournment of the congregation, he was 
 so near the entrance that he was among the very first 
 to find exit, and waiting close by the door, he soon 
 saw Miss Lunata and her company among the throng 
 who were moving out. As the trio stood for a moment
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 371 
 
 when out, preparatory to starting, Parsons stepped up 
 to the young man who had the ladies in charge, and 
 asked him if he did not need help in taking care of the 
 two young ladies, and told him that, with his permis : 
 sion, he would relieve him of a part of his charge. 
 
 At that moment, by the light which streamed 
 through the door, the eyes of Miss Lunata and Prof. 
 Parsons met, in glad, but undemonstrative recognition. 
 Taking hold of her right hand, he deftly slipped it 
 through his kimboed arm, and with hearts full of joy 
 the two went tripping along the street to where Miss 
 Rowdon was stopping. Before reaching the house, 
 Parsons said to her that it was still an early hour of 
 the evening, and if it met her approbation, he would like 
 to spend an hour or more with her in the parlor of her 
 host, provided they could have the use of the parlor to 
 themselves. He told her how very much gratified he felt, 
 that by chance, he had met her, and as their meetings 
 had grown to be " few and far between" if was a rare 
 pleasure to be permitted to be in her presence and 
 enjoy her company. 
 
 Miss Lunata replied that their present meeting was 
 a most delightful surprise a surprise that brought to 
 her more real gratification than anything she had 
 experienced since their last conference, She told him 
 it would, of course, be a source of continued gladness 
 to have him remain just as long as he chose to stay. 
 Besides, as he proposed returning to his boarding- 
 house that night, his stay with her for an hour or two 
 would probably prevent his being caught in a storm 
 which seemed to be coming up from the west. 
 
 When they reached the door of the house where she 
 was visiting, it was opened by a servant, and the
 
 372 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 two passed in. Miss Lunata asked to be excused for 
 a few moments, and passed upstairs, and the Professor 
 was invited to take a seat in the parlor. In a few 
 minutes Miss Lunata returned. The two then seated 
 themselves upon a divan, and, for the time that they 
 were together, their joy over the privilege of being 
 permitted to hold an undisturbed conversation, was 
 indescribably delightful. The conversation was an 
 economical use of time, and was like bruised flowers 
 shedding aroma because of their wounding. 
 
 Prof. Parsons had very much to tell Miss Lunata 
 about what he had learned in regard to such things as 
 she might feel an interest in, and among them did not 
 fail to give a succinct and careful recital of the con 
 versation which had taken place between Kirtland 
 and Mrs. Watson. When Miss Lunata asked Parsons 
 why he had mentioned the matter to her a second 
 time, he answered, that when he made the first request 
 it was made at a time when no thought of marrying 
 her against her father s wishes had ever entered his 
 mind, but when the relations between him and her 
 rendered it more than probable that they would marry 
 despite his wishes, he felt that, in justice to his own 
 sense of honesty, he would be compelled to retract his 
 assertion, and thereby exonerate himself from the 
 charge of misrepresentation. 
 
 His explanation was accepted, as Miss Lunata told 
 him, with pride. She said it was another item of 
 evidence that went to prove his genuine loyalty to 
 right. She acknowledged that she did not think 
 she would have considered it necessary to undo what 
 had been done, but that his explanation, as to why he 
 revoked his first request, shed a new light upon what
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 373 
 
 he did, it raised him one notch higher in her estima 
 tion, if there were any notches higher than the ones he 
 already held. 
 
 After everything which had come within the obser 
 vation of each of them, as well as all that had been 
 heard by either of them, had been recounted, it was 
 found that there was no cessation in the violence of 
 the storm, which had been raging ever since the pair 
 had seated themselves in the parlor. Until there 
 should be a cessation in the downpour of rain, Miss 
 Lunata declared she would not think of allowing him 
 to quit the room. It was really a very great pleasure 
 to be compelled to remain in the company of one in 
 whose presence he found superlative delight, and the 
 time was utilized to the best possible advantage. 
 Each of the young people whose devotion for one 
 another was well nigh immeasurable, was glad that 
 the elements had conspired to give greater length 
 to their meeting, and but for the lateness of the hour 
 would have been glad to have had the rain protract 
 still further the duration of their meeting. At length 
 Parsons stepped to the window and, peering into the 
 darkness that was fitfully illuminated by the flashes of 
 lightning, he remarked that there was a grand display 
 of pyrotechnics athwart the heavens, and that the rum 
 bling thunder, plainly, and loudly told that although 
 there was a temporary cessation of the rain, the storm 
 was not over, but that he would take advantage of the 
 pause in rain-fall, and dodge out while the clouds were 
 holding up their showery effusion, and making a way 
 for his escape. 
 
 Having bade Miss Lunata a kind adieu, and leaving 
 her with the understanding that it would not be long
 
 374 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 till they would meet again, he bowed donned his hat, 
 and was soon picking his way through the darkness, 
 and along the reeking streets by the light of the 
 momentary flashes of lightning. Everything was 
 quiet as he threaded his way to the hotel, save the 
 rattling of the water as it poured over some offset hard 
 by the sidewalk, or the detonating discharges of 
 occasional peals of deeptoned thunder, reverberating 
 on and around the adjacent hills. With these excep 
 tions, everything was still. The non-appearance of 
 either light or life, adown the streets through which he 
 passed, betokened the fact, that save himself, everybody 
 was safely housed from the storm and making their 
 proper offerings to old Somnus. 
 
 Parsons reached the hotel without getting wet, but 
 had hardly cleared the entrance thereto before the rain 
 began to come down again in torrents. He felt disin 
 clined to remain in town for the rest of the night, 
 because he believed his going home in the morning 
 would put the nosing committee to work, and discov 
 ering that he had spent the night in the town, the same 
 committee would continue their investigations until 
 they discovered that Miss Lunata was also in town, and 
 the inference drawn that he had been in her company. 
 This would be sufficient he thought to have the 
 spies consider the trail worthy of being pushed, and 
 discovering that he and Miss Rowdon had had a meet 
 ing, he was apprehensive that she would be made the 
 sufferer. 
 
 For another hour the rain continued to pour down 
 incessantly, and there seeming to be no prospect of its 
 discontinuance, much as he disliked to remain, Par 
 sons called for a room, to which he was conducted, 
 and retired.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 375 
 
 At daylight the next morning, his horse was ordered, 
 and mounting him he rode rapidly away towards the 
 home of the Watsons. He thought by the early start 
 which he had made, and by rapid riding, he might be 
 able to make the trip before any one was astir except 
 the servants. The Watsons were not, especially at 
 that season of the year, very early risers, and hence 
 he thought it probable that he could reach his room 
 without being discovered. He had not more than 
 reached the limits of the town when there came 
 another downpour of rain, and an accompanying wind 
 which made the carrying of an umbrella an absurdity. 
 He therefore folded this useless article up and put 
 spurs to his nimble-footed horse, and with no other 
 protection than a new and fine suit of clothes he faced 
 the pelting rain, and pushed his horse along the high 
 way, until amid the splashing of the water and mud, 
 under the bounding leaps of his horse and the rattle 
 of the rain all about him, he reached home. 
 
 A negro man, standing in his cabin door, saw Par 
 sons coming with aimost race-track speed, and ran out to 
 take his horse, while Parsons, drenched with rain and 
 begrimed by mud, leaped from his saddle threw his 
 bridle reins to the servant and darted away to the house. 
 
 His room being reached he doffed his wet clothing 
 hung them up to dry, and, putting himself inside of 
 a dry suit, went down to breakfast as perfectly com 
 posed as sleek, trim and dry as though Jupiter 
 Plurius had not administered to him in the very early 
 morning a bath by effusion, for none of the white 
 family knew anything about what time he came home. 
 
 The negroes on the Watson farm were all admirers 
 of Parsons and were especially partial to him. Aunt
 
 376 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 Edie, the professional cook for the family, wanted to 
 know what kind of dishes in the line of substantials 
 he was fond of how he wanted them served what 
 kind of pastry he preferred, &c., and when his tastes 
 had been consulted, she was sure to have something 
 palatable for the "Fessor," as she styled Parsons. 
 
 The negro men were also especially polite in their 
 manners towards the young teacher, and were fond of 
 waiting on him. Did his boots need blacking did 
 his clothes need brushing was his horse needed ; if ?o, 
 there was a vicing among them as to who should per 
 form the service. Indeed every servant on the Watson 
 farm was, by acts that could not be misconstrued 
 desirous of being considered loyal to the interest of the 
 young teacher. He was kind to them, and backed his 
 kindness by a generosity which they could appreciate. 
 He taught some of them a kind of sign language, and 
 and by its use they became as dumb as Dagon about 
 that which Parsons indicated he did not want men 
 tioned. It was, therefore, not a matter of wonder how 
 he could come home so perfectly saturated by being in a 
 storm of rain and the Watsons never know anything 
 about that morning s terrific bath. 
 
 Among the many things that came up for considera 
 tion during the long talk on the stormy Sunday night, 
 Miss Lunata was informed by Prof. Parsons of every 
 movement which had been made to injure his reputa 
 tion, and ruin his influence in the vicinity of his school. 
 The names of the parties who had been and were still 
 engaged in the nefarious work were all given her, and 
 the part that each was playing in order to accomplish 
 the desired purpose was also outlined. But he told 
 her to be comforted, for, although they seemed to be
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 377 
 
 environed by a set of conspirators, whose aim was 
 evidently to try to forestall all communication between 
 them, he believed their work would come to nought, 
 and that the coming of a better time was not very far 
 away. 
 
 After that meeting which was rendered doubly 
 pleasant, by being a surprise, Parsons thought he 
 discovered that there was, to some extent, a cessation 
 of active hostilities; and Charlie Kirtland thought 
 matters had assumed a better shape everywhere, except 
 in the Watson household. 
 
 Of course, there was no knowing what was taking 
 place in the Rowdon family, except through such 
 information, as young Jerry Lasell could every now 
 and then communicate to Parsons. This letter carrier 
 had, in the last interview which he had with his 
 teacher, informed him, that, for reasons not yet under 
 stood, the horse of Aurelius Munson had ceased to be 
 hitched to his accustomed rack in front of his uncle s 
 home. When questioned as to when the last visit 
 had occurred which Munson made, he stated that his 
 last visit had occurred on Wednesday succeeding the 
 recent stormy Sunday night. Miss Lunata returned 
 from town on Wednesday, and that evening Munson 
 called to see her. "Since then," said he, "his horse 
 has vacated that post, and given it up to other callers." 
 
 There seemed to be a kind of rounding up in the 
 Rowdon locality of such matters as he was especially 
 interested in, as though the time of final settlement 
 was drawing near, and these indications added to the 
 fact that the Watsons were showing an increase in 
 their dislike, brought Prof. Parsons to the conclusion that 
 the time had about arrived, when some definite under-
 
 378 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 standing should be reached in regard to the time when 
 she would quit her home to join him in a trip to Aber 
 deen, Ohio. He thought an exact and well understood 
 time, for this most important move, should be decided 
 upon before he left the neighborhood ; for, having once 
 changed his location, he would forestall himself from 
 all opportunity of accomplishing what could, without 
 any great risk, be accomplished while he was still in 
 charge of the school. 
 
 In view of such a state of environments, Parsons 
 decided to try to bring the especial matter which was 
 as yet undecided to a finality. He therefore indited 
 the following letter to Miss Lunata Rowdon which was 
 carried to her through the politeness of young Jerry 
 Lasell: 
 
 WATSON HOUSE, June 20, 184 . 
 Miss Lunata Rowdon, At Home : 
 
 MY DEAREST LUNATA : There is a train of circum 
 stances at present environing me, that makes the 
 writing of this letter a necessity. The relations 
 between the Watson family and myself are growing 
 daily more strained. The influence of Alf. over the 
 other members of the Watson household (Miss Ida 
 excepted), has been brought to bear in creating such a 
 prejudice against me, as that even an exhibit of com 
 mon courtesy may, at any time, be denied me. I had 
 hoped to remain in the family until the close of my 
 school term, but I am now apprehensive that I may be 
 under the necessity of quitting the place sooner. 
 Should the discovered prejudice suggest, that, before 
 the close of my school, it would be better that I seek 
 a temporary home, where I could be free from all 
 possibility of being mistreated, I will, at once seek 
 shelter elsewhere. But, I am suspicious, that, With 
 such a move, the opportunity of seeing you, or, clan 
 destinely meeting you, would be rendered much more 
 difficult, as well as dangerous.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 379 
 
 In addition to the question of my moving, I may 
 add, that, at all events, I will certainly withdraw from 
 your neighborhood, upon the close of my school ; and 
 any effort upon my part to see you, would then, neces 
 sarily be almost completely out of my power. 
 
 The facts stated being true, and no complete or 
 difinite arrangements having been made for the con 
 summation of our marriage ; and, with a settled 
 conviction in the minds of each of us, that this con 
 summation can only be effected by flight ; I am 
 growing exceedingly solicitous as to the time of our 
 departure, and the necessary preliminaries, incident to 
 that departure. The reasons that I have offered for 
 my anxiety in regard to the matters I have named, 
 it is hoped, will be considered sufficiently cogent to 
 justify my insisting upon our having an early meeting. 
 
 That such a meeting may be held, I offer the follow 
 ing suggestions : Namely, I think Monday about high 
 noon would be a very opportune time for our interview. 
 It will be county court day in Wenona and your fa . her, 
 you know, if he is well, will be sure to attend, and 
 will not return until late in the afternoon. A meeting 
 therefore between you and me can be held in the forest 
 hard by your home, and run but little risk of having 
 our meeting interrupted. Having passed through 
 these woods almost every -day since the beginning of 
 my school, I have grown quite familiar with every path 
 and by-way with which they are intersected with 
 every towering tree with which the woods are adorned; 
 and, inasmuch as my school house stands within the 
 inclosure of the woods, you would decide that I was a 
 poor hand at description, could I not designate, accu 
 rately, the very spot upon which I suggest that we 
 meet, so that you could not mistake the place. 
 
 The following suggestion I therefore make as to the 
 place. There is a large thick foliaged, spreading ash 
 tree which stands on the southeast side of the pond in 
 that woods, and about fifty yards from the pond. The 
 trunk, or body of the tree, is of a lighter color than 
 the other trees in that vicinity. If you will meet me
 
 380 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 under the shade of that tree at the designated hour, 
 upon the day named, we will hold our conference the 
 last perhaps we will hold, till all barriers are removed, 
 and we no longer be compelled to hold clandestine 
 meetings ; but in the joyous reality of a perfected 
 freedom, ask no one for "the liberty of free speech." 
 nor run any risks of being followed by jealous suitors 
 or hired spies. 
 
 This letter will be handed you by young Lasell, and 
 as I shall expect an immediate answer, you can send 
 it by him, Devotedh* yours, 
 
 JOHN PARSONS. 
 
 In reply to this letter, Miss Lunata wrote a short 
 response in which she stated that the proposition for 
 the meeting the time and the place met her approval, 
 and, unless she should be prevented by inclement 
 weather, or by some unforseen accident, she would be 
 on the ground promptly at the time specified, adding 
 that his description of the place was so very accurate 
 that it would be almost impossible for her to make a 
 mistake in identifying the precise spot. 
 
 At this juncture in this little heart-history it may 
 seem strange that a minority of a board of trus 
 tees should have decided to do what a majoritj 
 most resolutely opposed. It may seem equally strange, 
 until all the circumstances are understood, that any 
 part of that board should have shown themselves 
 ready to read the death warrant of the best school, by 
 very large odds, that had ever been taught in that neigh 
 borhood. It may appear as an exhibit of human 
 weakness, if not of human depravity to know that Mr. 
 Watson, Sr., was one of the two who constituted the 
 meager minority, and that even that minority had 
 decided to read John Parsons out of his position as 
 teacher in their school, and thereby read him out of
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 381 
 
 that part of the country if possible. 
 
 To find that Mr. Henry Rowdonwas arrayed in open 
 and avow.ed hostility to Prof. Parsons was not a matter of 
 surprise, for the stubborn opposition which he had to the 
 young man s paying any attention to his daughter was no 
 longer talked about in whispers. People became loud 
 mouthed in their condemnation of his course, espe 
 cially in their complaints against him, for allowing his 
 personal home affairs to interrupt and close as fine 
 and popular a school as Prof. Parsons had established 
 and was successfully conducting. As to the objections 
 of Mr. Eli Watson, nobody seemed to be in the least 
 surprised. It was generally known that through the 
 influence of his son Alf . the father was playing second 
 fiddle to the prejudice of Mr. Henr} 1 - Rowdon. In fact, 
 all sides of it considered, it seemed to be a very 
 strange case. 
 
 Some of them who felt themselves especially 
 grieved over the anticipated removal of Prof. Parsons, 
 regarded it as a case of unparalleled injustice. It was 
 claimed that one of the minority trustees wanted to 
 dispense with the services of a strictly first-class 
 teacher because he imagined the teacher wanted to 
 marry his eldest daughter; while the other trustee 
 wanted him sent away because he was not willing to 
 marry his second daughter. 
 
 The first of these assertions was certainly true, and 
 whether the last was true or not, gossipers had been 
 talking that way, and as to who started the report, 
 Prof. Parsons never knew. 
 
 When it is remembered that this same Eli Watson, 
 as the deputized committeeman of his Board of School 
 Trustees, had sought to secure the services of Prof.
 
 382 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 Parsons as a teacher for their school, and that the 
 said committeeman had been refused by Parsons, on 
 the ground that the children in his district were 
 reported to be unruly and hard to manage, and that 
 their parents were little better, being fussy and hard to 
 please ; and when it is is further remembered, that at 
 the expiration of one year from the time this applica 
 tion was made, this same Eli Watson made Prof. Par 
 sons a second visit that an offer, on that visit, of an 
 increase in the salary formerly proposed, together with 
 an assurance that his people had been misrepresented 
 in the story which had been told about their being hard 
 to please, had induced Prof. Parsons to accept his 
 terms ; and furthermore, when it is remembered that it 
 was in the family of this same. Watson, Sr., that the 
 Professor found boarding, and was highly esteemed by 
 the family as a gentleman complimented for his 
 urbane bearing and generously accepted as a friend ; 
 the question, in view of all these facts, will naturally sug 
 gest itself, as to the reason why Mr. Eli Watson should 
 have become so exceedingly anxious to dispose of the 
 teacher whom he had been so anxious to secure. No 
 bill ot grievance had been filed against him no com 
 plaint of a failure to discharge his duty had been made 
 by any one of his patrons, the Watsons excepted. 
 Even Mr. Rowdon had too much honesty to allege 
 against him incapacity or inattention to his duties as 
 a teacher. He had a complaint to urge against the 
 young Professor, but it was of a private character, and 
 he never presented that grievance to the attention of 
 the trustees.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 383 
 
 That the course as taken, would be decided upon by 
 the trustees Prof. Parsons was fully convinced, and he 
 therefore made preparation to settle his business and 
 arrange to vacate his post. He packed and boxed his 
 books deposited his clothing in a trunk preparatory 
 to moving, and, while doing so, could but wonder at 
 the fickleness of fortune ; but resolutely said I know, 
 What s Next.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 "His eye-brow dark, and eye of fire. 
 Showed spirit proud, and prompt to ire; 
 Yet lines of thought upon his cheek 
 Did deep design and counsel apeak." 
 
 Scott. 
 
 the Friday following the arrangement for the 
 meeting between Prof. Parsons and Miss Rowdon 
 for the ensuing Monday, the trustees of his school 
 met, by notification, in the school-house to make 
 a final settlement with him. 
 
 By a pre-arrangement a meager minority of that 
 Board, consisting of Mr. Eli Watson and Mr. Henry 
 Rowdon, had decided that a formal announcement of 
 the discharge of the 3 T oung Professor should be made 
 at that meeting, and that the discharge should be 
 announced just as soon as the settlement between him 
 and the Trustees should have been completed. 
 
 When the Board Assembled, it was evident from the 
 general appearance of the majority as well as from the 
 murmuring of dissatisfaction that was heard among 
 them, that there was a considerable amount of sup 
 pressed excitement in the house, and that there was a 
 latent feeling of displeasure felt by every member of 
 the Board except Watson and Rowdon. As the settle 
 ment was being conducted, there was a noticeable 
 difference in the fairness of the two men who had 
 determined upon having Prof. Parsons give up his 
 position, and to humiliate him by a formal discharge. 
 
 While he had been teaching, Parsons had gone to- 
 considerable expense, with the consent of the Trustees, 
 in repairing the house and furnishing such things as 
 were needed to make it comfortable. When Parsons 
 brought in the bills which he had paid for these differ-
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 385 
 
 ent items. Watson was first to speak, and said, that, 
 so far as he was concerned, he was opposed to paying 
 certain of these bills, as the permission granted Par 
 sons had been transcended. 
 
 Mr. Rowdon replied to this, by stating, that the bills 
 presented were for articles furnished for the school, and 
 for improvements upon the house that the teacher 
 who would vacate the building in a few days was not 
 expected to remove the articles which had been bought, 
 nor lay claim to any part of the house ; and that 
 the articles being left in their possession, as their 
 property, it was but right and just that he should be 
 reimbursed for what he had expended, and if the same 
 was not ordered to be paid, he would pay the bills 
 himself. He further stated that the school house was his 
 individual property that no title to it existed any 
 where except in him, and while heretofore he had only 
 exercised the right of one voter in matters pertaining 
 to the school, in this instance he proposed to act with 
 such authority as was legally his, and remove the 
 present incumbent from his office, as soon as his 
 present term expired. But, while he would do this, he 
 would at least see that the young man should be paid 
 every penny he has expended in making the building 
 comfortable. 
 
 When Mr. Rowdon had made this statement Prof. 
 Parsons arose and remarked that he desired to recog 
 nize this show of partial justice. 
 
 The settlement was finally made, and as soon as it 
 was finished Parsons arose, and addressing the gentle 
 men present, said : 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 25.
 
 386 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 " Gentlemen: It is a fact patent to each and ever}* 
 one of you, that I did not seek the position which I 
 am holding in your midst as teacher, but the position 
 coaxingly sought me. It is known as well, to all of 
 you, that I postively refused to entertiain a first propo 
 sition to become your teacher when earnestly solicited 
 to do so by your deputized agent, Mr. Eli Watson. He 
 at least remembers that one of my chief objections to 
 accepting the position was, that the patrons of the 
 school were hard to please. That my supposition, as 
 then expressed, in regard to some of those who ought 
 to be supporters of the school, was correct, I think is 
 significantly shown by this coming together of your 
 board of officers. My supposition is that you have 
 met for the purpose of serving me with a formal notice 
 that my services in your midst are to be dispensed 
 with upon the close of my present unexpired session. 
 In fact, one of your number has already indicated as 
 much. Your settlement with me, before the termina 
 tion of my work and the positive position taken by 
 Mr. Rowdon quiets this question. But, gentlemen, I 
 feel that I can at least be permitted to say, that, in 
 nothing I have done, is there any self-censure which I 
 have to lay at, my door. When I leave your neighbor 
 hood, I shall do so without bearing away with nae any 
 compunctions of conscience because of duty neglected. 
 I will bid adieu to your community without any 
 remorse over a neglected compliance with either my 
 moral or my legal obligations. I will leave you, 
 believing the honest discharge of my duty will be the 
 very best attestation of my right to expect the friend 
 ship of those who know how to appreciate rectitude of 
 purpose as well as rectitude of conduct.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 387 
 
 "Gentlemen, under my management your school has 
 grown in numbers and popularity beyond the most 
 sanguine expectations of its deeply interested patrons. 
 It has extended its influence until, as you are aware, 
 it now numbers, among those who are under my 
 instruction, pupils from several other counties. I 
 desire to add, and to emphasize what I say, that, until 
 recently, no whisper of dissatisfaction has ever gained 
 a hearing with reference to my system of instruction, 
 mj- management of my pupils, or of my pleasing my 
 patrons." 
 
 Here one of the majority members of the Trustees 
 spoke excitedly of his unqualified disapprobation of 
 the course which was being pursued for the purpose of 
 discontinuing, or rather suppressing by an unjustifiable 
 exercise of legal force, the best school the county had 
 ever had. 
 
 Prof. Parsons, however, lifting his hand, silenced 
 the dissenting Trustee, claiming that he had the floor ; 
 adding, that when he was through, any one of the 
 Trustees would be at liberty to speak, and, as far as he 
 was concerned, without limit as to time. 
 
 "To continue my remarks, gentlemen," said Prof. 
 Parsons, "I will finish up the remaining short, uncom 
 pleted part of my term with the characteristic honesty 
 and faithfulness which I think has been shown in 
 every day s labor since I began work in your midst. 
 Do not consider this remark as savoring of egotism. 
 I think there are present those who will indorse w r hat I 
 say, and bear testimony to its truth. They have been 
 cognizant of the correctness of what I say ; and, they 
 at least, will exonerate me from the charge of self- 
 praise."
 
 388 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 But gentlemen ; if any of you are nursing the*secret 
 pleasure you will experience in having me formally 
 dismissed from my charge, I want here, and now, to 
 unload that pleasure for you, by waiving your formal 
 ity, and tendering you my resignation, to take effect 
 upon the day my school closes. I do not intend that 
 it shall be published that I was discharged, for I am 
 sure that could an expression of those present be polled, 
 there would be a manifested stubborn unwillingness to 
 have me resign, much less to have it published that I 
 had been discharged. Therefore, whatever may have 
 been decided upon by any of you, in secret caucus 
 or otherwise, in regard to the position I am rilling, the 
 gross injustice of publishing that I have been dis 
 missed from my place as teacher, is now too heavily 
 handicapped to travel beyond the precincts of this 
 room. I want you to know, gentlemen, that, while I 
 am poor, I am, by no means, a pauper. I want you to 
 know too that although poor, I am too rich in spiritual 
 endowment, and too proud to cringingly bow to Dives 
 or any of his worshipers. One of the chief objections 
 that I still have to this particular locality, is that 
 there are too many still to be found in it who are hard 
 to please, and their fastideous taste is of such a distorted 
 pattern that they place a much higher estimate upon 
 worldly emolument than upon what a man merits by 
 his virtues too many whose covetousness blinds them 
 to any appreciation of the higher and nobler attributes 
 of human character." 
 
 " In conclusion, gentlemen, let me say, I entered 
 your community somewhat reluctantly, and in the 
 midst of one of nature s terrific storms, and that I 
 leave it in the midst of a storm of unjust, unholy and
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 389 
 
 cruel persecution. Some of you, possibly all of you, 
 know in what this persecution originated. I have had 
 an espionage kept upon my every movement for weeks. 
 I have been hounded from post to pillar, and indirectly 
 threatened with personal violence. To all of this I 
 showed a profound indifference. I certainly did not 
 seek a difficulty with those who possibly thought their 
 threats would intimidate me, nor did I go out of my 
 way to avoid a collision. I made no boasts. I simply 
 said that if any one attempted to coerce me in any 
 way whatever, the man whose temerity would lead him 
 to make the trial might find himself taking a risk 
 without counting the cost. With this state of existing 
 facts, I assure you I am not only willing to leave your 
 neighborhood, but am growing anxious for the time to 
 come when I can make my bow and take my exit. 
 I assure you there is not money enough in your midst 
 to induce me to remain with you as a teacher longer 
 than the close of my present school." 
 
 After Prof. Parsons finished what he wanted to say, 
 and had taken his seat, there seemed to be no further 
 business to be transacted, and there being an estoppel 
 put upon all action by the stubborn announcement of 
 Mr. Rowdon; one by one, the parties present started 
 out of the house, and not without manifesting their 
 disapprobation in rather vigorous terms did the 
 dissatisfied party mount their horses and start for their 
 homes. 
 
 As soon as the meeting, with its fruitless informality 
 had informally adjourned, Prof. Parsons closed the 
 house locked the door, and went immediately to his 
 boarding-house. A wagon had been previously ordered 
 by Parsons to go to his boarding-house and if he were
 
 390 WHAT NEXT? OB 
 
 not there to await his coming. The wagon having 
 gone in advance of him was in waiting when he 
 arrived. Into this, as speedily as possible, he loaded 
 his trunk, box of books and other belongings, and 
 having informed the wagoner where to take what he 
 had aboard, the Professor bade the members of the 
 Watson household, who were at home, a courteous 
 good by, not omitting to give Aunt Edie the negro 
 cook, a cordial God bless you, as he shook one of her 
 hands, and into the other dropped a piece of money. 
 He then bade the other negroes, one by one, good by, 
 and as they stood about him they seemed to be the 
 only members of that family who were in the least 
 sorry that he was leaving them to return no more. 
 His horse being in readiness he mounted him and 
 turned his back upon a home in which he had spent 
 so many pleasant days, and became a stranger to those 
 he had once loved. 
 
 Arrangements had been made by the Professor as to 
 where his trunk, books, &c., were to be housed, but he 
 was a bit puzzled as to what he should do with him 
 self. As he rode off from the Watson home with 
 flushed cheeks, and excitement playing fire-fly with 
 his black eyes, he felt proud of the fact that he was 
 not without earnest and appreciative friends in that 
 community. Some of these having heard of the 
 troubles into which he had fallen, gave him pressing 
 invitations to spend the remainder of the school-term 
 in their families. To be so kindly remembered in the 
 midst of his troubles, was very gratifying to the young 
 teacher, but, up to, and beyond the time, which had 
 been decided upon as a trysting occasion beneath a 
 certain tree standing a certain distance from a certain
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 391 
 
 pond on a certain day at a certain hour of that 
 certain day, no acceptance had been acknowledged of 
 any one of these invitations. 
 
 By and by, the specified court day came when the 
 decision-meeting was to be held. About high noon on 
 that day Prof. Parsons sauntered away from the school 
 house and, by a circuitous route, made his way towards 
 the place which had been designated for the all- 
 important meeting. 
 
 To convey to the mind of the reader the character 
 of the emotions that surged rose and swelled in the 
 bosom of Prof. Parsons, as he took this meandering 
 walk, and contemplated the momentous importance of 
 what might be wrapped up in the proceedings of the 
 next hour, is to make a statement that no one can 
 fully understand, unless it has fallen to his lot to have 
 been passed through a somewhat similar ordeal. Such 
 was the decision at which Parsons himself arrived, 
 and which he subsequently spoke of as the supreme 
 trial of his life. He felt, and fully felt, as he afterwards 
 averred, the tremendous pressure upon his mind, super 
 induced bj r the gravity and importance of the step he 
 was preparing to take. He fairly staggered under the 
 responsibilitj* of making a move in which there was so 
 much involved. But, as he wandered on to meet the 
 woman, who, with calm and deliberate determination, 
 had decided to risk her happiness her temporal hopes 
 and herself to his care ; there was a kind of inspira 
 tion that seemed to promise him that Heaven would 
 smile upon his honest intentions, and help him to 
 overcome the trials and dangers to which he might be 
 exposed in his new relations.
 
 392 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 When the Professor came in sight of the appointed 
 place of meeting, he espied Miss Lunata standing under 
 the designated tree, apparent!} 7 in pensive meditation. 
 Can it be, thought he, as he caught sight of her person 
 and posture, that she too is pondering in her mind the 
 hazard of the determination she has reached? Can it 
 be that there is mingled with her musings any doubt 
 or misgivings as to the prudence of the course she is 
 preparing to pursue? I think not. I am sure she has 
 looked at the question in all of its bearings. The 
 moral right which she has, to array herself in opposi 
 tion to the sinister and avaricious purposes of her 
 father, I know has been weighed in the scales of 
 justice, and the decision has been rendered against 
 him. Her loyalty to her father, as measured by the 
 line of loyalty to herself and the universal and unalter 
 able law of right, I believe is directing her steps, and 
 there is no disposition now upon her part to recant 
 anything she has said, or to alter anything she has 
 done. I can therefore approach her with an unsub 
 dued confidence that all things in regard to our marriage 
 has been fully matured by her, and that our conference 
 will, therefore, prove to be all that I could desire 
 it to be. 
 
 Upon the living pictuure, rendered doubly beautiful 
 by the surroundings and the circumstances under 
 which it was seen, Parsons looked with peculiar pride. 
 As Miss Lunata stood beneath that tree, he gave his 
 eyes a feast in the contemplation of a picture, such as 
 he knew the camera of the soul would reproduce in 
 the days and even years to come. 
 
 While Parsons was still some distance away, Miss 
 Lunata caught sight of him, and taking a delicate
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 393 
 
 handkerchief from her pocket she waved it ; that, 
 seeing it, he might know the coast was clear. 
 
 As he approached her, his heart set up such a 
 bouncing and throbbing that he was half disposed to 
 wonder if it were not trying to turn tell-tale and to reveal 
 to her the wondrous excitement he was undergoing by 
 being brought into her presence under such peculiar 
 circumstances. But when he reached her, and had 
 grasped both her hands in his, the tumultuous throbbing 
 of that heart gradually beat itself back to a normal 
 state, and Parsons was happy. 
 
 The two sat down upon the grass-carpeted ground 
 and became at once engaged in an earnest and serious 
 discussion of the matters which they had met to 
 arrange. Could an onlooker have peered in upon this 
 couple as they sat and talked, and arranged the plans 
 for their making their escape from the possible vigilant 
 watching of suspicious eyes, together with the over 
 hauling and examining of every detail, incident to an 
 elopement, that onlooker would have better understood 
 why it was impolitic and unwise to attempt, in this 
 country, to strangle the devotional attachment which 
 has sprung up between two young people, by rude, 
 harsh, and coercive measures, or to affect a sale by 
 bartering human affections far worldly pelf. 
 
 This meeting was a business affair, but the trans 
 action of business did not rob it of its pure delights. 
 The meeting was a short one, and yet its brevity did 
 not keep two hearts, intent upon but a single purpose, 
 from renewing their hopes and brightening their expec 
 tations, in regard to the full fruition of joys that were 
 not very far away.
 
 394 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 The time being fixed for their elopement unless 
 their purposes should be thwarted, or some unforeseen 
 accident should prevent their getting away, it was next 
 agreed between them, that, upon the Sunday preced 
 ing their leaving home for Ohio, she should attend a 
 specified church, not remote from her father s, and 
 that he would send his friend Felix Brunnell to meet 
 her at the church and accompany her home that she 
 must invite the young man to remain for dinner, and 
 that during his visit she must inform him, as far as 
 she could, of every move she would make on the night 
 of her leaving home. You must show him," said 
 Parsons, "just where he must enter your home yard. 
 You must indicate for him just where he will find you 
 in waiting for him, for he, being thus advised, will, 
 without difficulty, be enabled to meet and escort you 
 to the rest of our company." 
 
 " My escort will start from my father s. Our place 
 of rendezvous will be in the thick woods just east of 
 your home. We will leave our horses there in the care 
 of one of our company. The rest of us will approach 
 your home from the east, and halting at the orchard 
 gate, will send Brunnell to the spot which you may 
 indicate to him as the place where you will meet him. 
 Once in his hands, he will conduct you to us, and, 
 together, we will take up our line of march for our 
 horses. Once upon them, we will strike out for the 
 Gretna Green of our adjacent state, to laugh at spies, 
 but at the same time deplore the fate that has robbed 
 you of your paternal blessing upon your starting on 
 your matrimonial voyage." 
 
 "As for all preliminaries, and the working out of the 
 necessary details, these must be fixed to suit your own
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 395 
 
 convenience, or settled according to the dictates of 
 your own ingenuity." 
 
 "Dearest Lunata, set your triggers right and I 
 hardly think our plans can miss fire." 
 
 Then taking both her hands again in his, he said to her: 
 " The Rubicon is in sight the die is ready to be cast, 
 and before we cross the one. or hazard the other, let me 
 place the signet of eternal constancy upon your lips. 
 One kiss is all I will ask now, and when it is given, I 
 am sure Heaven will not disapprove of that which is 
 surrendered and accepted in the innocence of two 
 uncorrupted hearts." Suiting the action to the words, 
 by the hands which he still held, he drew Miss Lunata 
 towards him and from her roseate lips plucked the 
 first kiss he had ever dared to claim the right to take. 
 
 With an invocation of blessing upon her head, Par 
 sons turned regretfully away from the trysting place, 
 and started back to his school. 
 
 Ever and anon, while he went, as if loth to leave 
 her who had become the light of his life, he turned, 
 and gave her another, and still another lingering look, 
 and as he took that look, he kissed his hand to her 
 in token of his loving adieu. 
 
 The retreating footsteps of Prof. Parsons were 
 watched by Miss Lunata with an absorbing interest 
 an interest such as she had never known before. She 
 had separated from him sorrowfully at other times; but 
 with this separation there followed him an anxious 
 solicitude, as though the better half of herself her 
 spiritual self, had gone away with him. What! Oh! 
 What ! will our next meeting mean ? What ! Oh ! 
 What ! will that next meeting do towards shaping my
 
 396 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 destiny ? These were questions, that in her paroxysms 
 of intense desire to know just what seemed to lie but 
 a short distance away, almost set her wild. 
 
 The sun ha d marched several degrees adown the 
 slope towards the western horizon when Miss Lunata 
 started homeward. The earth was clothed in glorious 
 brightness, but Miss Lunata was oblivious to the 
 beauties of her encompassment. The deep, living green 
 of the trees, beneath whose shade she walked the 
 birds that caroled their love-notes amid the swaying 
 foliage of their tops the soft carpet of velvety blue- 
 grass on which she walked, nor the deep blue of the 
 sunlit sky caught her attention. Ordinarily her soul 
 would have been filled with the beauty and poetry of 
 such surroundings ordinarily she would have been 
 enthused with rapturous delight in viewing nature s 
 glorious beauties ; but something else had filled her 
 heart full. Ah ! yes, something else had monopolized, 
 for the time, the place where natural beauties had 
 once found a devotee. Ah ! yes. waiting, watching 
 and separation had made her heart tired and she was 
 taking that heart home to rest. 
 
 Miss Lunata was not the only one who went from 
 beneath that trysting tree whose heart had grown 
 weary with waiting and uncompromising solicitude. 
 In the main, he was hopeful ; but, under a certain 
 kind of strain his courage often needed a supplemental 
 help from outside influences. When he parted 
 from Miss Lunata after their last conference, he was 
 overjoyed at the happiness of their interview, and 
 over-sanguine, in regard to the completeness of their 
 ultimate triumph ; but, just as he was disappearing 
 from her sight and kissed his hand to her as a parting
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 397 
 
 love token, he caught sight of that little white hand 
 kerchief which she waved above her head, and he 
 walked into his school-room and was heart-tired too. 
 
 During the same week, and only two days after the 
 last meeting between Prof. Parsons and Miss Lunata 
 Rowdon had been held, Major Windom, a friend and 
 patron of the young preceptor met him, and gave him 
 a very cordial invitation to make his house a home 
 until the close of his school. The Major expressed 
 considerable sympathy for the young teacher, and told 
 him that both he and his wife would be delighted to 
 entertain him during the rest of his stay in the neigh 
 borhood. Parsons accepted this invitation, and, while 
 he did not move anything but himself upon the Major, 
 he made his headquarters with the Windoms partook 
 of their hospitality, and was most delightfully and 
 kindly entertained by that family. 
 
 In the excellent and cultured household of Major 
 Windom, Prof. Parsons found a very great relief from 
 the annoying anxiety, that continued to hover about 
 him during the latter part of his stay in the Watson 
 family. The Windoms showed him marked kindness, 
 and their manifested sympathy helped to cure the 
 heart-wounds which a cruel injustice had inflicted. 
 No member of the Major s family seemed to under 
 stand why the Professor had fallen under the ban of 
 Mr. Rowdon and Mr. Watson, Sr. It had, of course, 
 become known to the Windoms that trouble had arisen 
 between Parsons and these two men, and that as a 
 result thereof the Professor had resigned his place as 
 teacher of the school, his resignation to take effect 
 immediately upon the close of the current term. No
 
 398 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 prurient curiosity led any member of that family to 
 seek to pry into what Parsons might probably desire 
 should not become a matter for common gossip. 
 
 The animadversion in which Major Windom indulged 
 in consequence of the autocratic authority as exercised 
 by a single trustee was somewhat severe, but not 
 severer than the facts in the case would warrant. The 
 exercising of such authority by an individual, even if 
 he had the law at his back, he considered a poor 
 exhibit of neighborly kindness, when it was remem 
 bered how manj- peisons he was discommoding by 
 closing the school. But, while he considered the 
 course pursued as both an injustice to Prof. Parsons 
 and a calamity to the neighborhood, he reconciled 
 himself to the misfortune, by the belief that his young 
 friend, the teacher, might have been led into this 
 trouble in order that, escaping from the persecutions 
 of the two men, he might really be saved from some 
 thing far more serious than having to abandon a posi 
 tion into which he came so reluctantly. 
 
 A few mornings after Prof. Parsons had moved his 
 quarters to Major Windom s. he was on his way to his 
 school, and as he was nearing the school-room, he was 
 met by Mr. Rowdon just a few rods from the building. 
 After a somewhat frigid morning salutation, Mr. Row 
 don accosted Parsons in a rather gruff style, saying to 
 him: " Why did you request Mrs. Watson to send a 
 message to rne through her husband, that my daughter, 
 Luna ta was in no danger of being stolen by you? and 
 why, after the lapse of a number of weeks, you having 
 learned that 3 T our message had not been delivered, did 
 you express the desire to revoke the request you had
 
 THE HONEST TiilEF. 399 
 
 previously made in regard to having notice served 
 upon me, that my daughter Lunata was safe from 
 being kidnapped by you ? " 
 
 " Have I ever intimated to you," said Mr. Rowdon, 
 " that I thought my daughter was in any danger of 
 being stolen ? Has anything ever transpired between 
 you and me that would warrant the sending of any 
 such a message to me ? You certainly had not been 
 taken into the confidence of my family as privy coun 
 selor. Why then did you think it nesessary to send 
 me such a message ? Why should you have arrogated 
 to yourself the self-assumed duty of ppprising me that 
 I was in no danger of sustaining by theft, the loss of 
 anything which was rightfully mine ? Furthermore : 
 Why did you, some weeks subsequent to your first 
 request, express the wish to Mrs. Watson that you 
 wanted to recall your first request? " 
 
 "You seem to be quite well freghted with questions 
 this morning Mr. Rowdon," said Parsons; " and why you 
 should have sought to unload your numerous interrogato 
 ries upon me, so close to the eve of my quitting your 
 neighborhood, is just a bit puzzling. I do not con 
 sider myself under any obligations to answer any one 
 of your questions, nor to explain for you anything that 
 I have said or done. Not being a privy counselor to 
 you or your family, I am sure my response to your 
 demands would never bring me under the censure of 
 any one, who knew why you had asked for answers to 
 the queries propounded. Your treatment of me, Mr. 
 Rowdon, has not beenw r hat it ought to have been, and 
 for that reason, if for no other, I feel that I am 
 absolved from all obligation to give you any satisfac 
 tion whatever, in regard to what you may want to
 
 400 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 know about me or my intentions. I learned at my 
 mother s knee, and also gathered it from paternal 
 advice, that respect should always be shown to age. 
 That respect, Mr. Rowdon, T would be glad to accord 
 to you. Your allusion to my being taken into your 
 family as privy counselor is an unkind gratuity. I 
 waive the further notice of this, and will show you 
 that I have neither forgotten, nor am willing to ignore 
 the influence of my early training." 
 
 "Upon second thought," said Parsons, " I will at 
 least show you the courtesy to tell you that my first 
 request was made of Mrs. Watson, because I had 
 learned, through what I considered a reliable source, 
 that you were uneasy lest your wishes, in regard to the 
 future of Miss Lunata, should be interfered with by 
 me. At that time, I felt some sympathy for you 
 because of your suspicions, and felt disposed to try to 
 relieve your anxiety, so far as that anxiety was the 
 result of my being in the neighborhood, and having 
 called upon Miss Lunata a few times. But your sub 
 sequent mistreatment, under circumstances that made 
 any show of resentment out of my power, robbed me 
 of my sympathy for you, and my respect dwindled into 
 such littleness, that I then determined to recall the 
 message, which I had requested Mrs. Watson to send 
 you by her husband." 
 
 "I have discovered, Mr. Rowdon, that you have 
 been fully informed in regard to my first, as well as 
 my second, request of Mrs. Watson, which goes to 
 show that there was an intention upon the part of 
 your informant to create a still further prejudice in 
 your mind against me than you already had. But, be 
 that as it may, I say to you, here and now, that, I do
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 401 
 
 formally recant any pledge that could possibly be con 
 sidered as couched in the wording of the first verbal 
 notice I requested should be sent to you. I want to 
 be distinctly understood as not considering myself 
 bound, in whole or in part, by that first desired notifi 
 cation. I shall hereafter consider myself as untram- 
 meled by pledge of any kind to you, and will regard 
 myself as not only free from any self-imposed obliga 
 tion to you, but as having perfect liberty to act towards 
 you and yours as my judgment may suggest, so long 
 as what I do, or purpose to do, does not conflict with 
 moral, legal or social law. I feel, Mr. Rowdon, that I 
 owe you nothing except the respect that is due from 
 youth to age. Even this, I assure you, would leave 
 me, should there be an effort on your part to try to 
 impeach my integritj or soil my character." 
 
 I will soon l)e beyond the reach of your contempt, 
 Mr. Rowdon ; a contempt which you predicate upon 
 the fact that I happened to be guilt} 7 of the crime of 
 being born poor. Other young men who have become 
 the heirs to a small patrimony, you treat with manifest 
 kindness, while I, with an ambition to make whatever 
 I can, and to call what I make my own, have been 
 snubbed by you under your own roof. I am glad to 
 say to you, Mr. Rowdon, that you can pick a flaw 
 neither in my character or conduct, and I consider 
 that I make no show of egotism in boldly asserting 
 what I defy you to disprove. I am free from either 
 mental or physical blemish as far as I know, and I am 
 persuaded that this is more than can be said of some 
 of the visitors who frequently call at your home. Why 
 there should be such an invidious distinction made 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 26.
 
 402 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 between me and others who call at your house, you 
 could probahly offer therefor a poor and flimsy excuse. 
 I will not sufficiently humble myself in your presence, 
 to even say that I would like to know why this dis 
 crimination had been made against me." 
 
 I do not feel, Prof. Parsons," said Mr. Rowdon, 
 " that I am under any obligation to explain the 
 motives which have prompted me in anything that 
 I have done, which, in any way, bears upon you or 
 your interest, but, if you will hear me but for a 
 moment, I think I can have you understand some 
 things about which you seem disposed to 
 
 "Hold on, Mr. Rowdon! I do not want any expla 
 nation from you. It is now a fact, widely known 
 throughout this section of the country, that you have 
 done all that was necessary to be done, in order that 
 you might compass my defeat. But while you were 
 enabled to accomplish your purpose solely because of 
 your ownership of the house in which I was teaching, 
 and of which fact I became apprised in time to 
 prevent my being further humiliated by you and 
 Watson, Sr. , I still insist that no explanations need 
 be offered, and you need not attempt to make any. 
 You have had your say, and having had the advantage, 
 the victory is, so far, in your favor. But let me say 
 further, Mr. Rowdon ; and in saying what I do, I do 
 not speak boastingly ; I hazard the assertion that 
 health sustaining me, I will, in the no distant 
 future, show myself to be much further from the 
 poor-house than some of your fawning favorites. 
 There may be an over amount of pride in my nature ; 
 still it is an adjunct of ambition, and I by no means 
 deplore the fact that I have enough pride to lead me in
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 403 
 
 the direction of right, and inspire me with courage to 
 be a man. Since I came into your midst I have, in no 
 way, wronged you or any one else, and I hope the day 
 is not far away when you will realize the fact that you 
 have greatly misjudged me. I hope, in that coming 
 time, you will be able to discover that you underrated 
 my persistent effort to show myself as worthy of better 
 treatment at your hands." 
 
 In making this personal defense of himself, Parsons 
 spoke in a somewhat excited manner, but never so far 
 forgot himself, as to stoop from the bearing of a gen 
 tleman. He treated Mr. Rowdon with perfect polite 
 ness, and that gentleman, after listening to what the 
 young Professor had to say, did not offer a rejoinder, 
 but silently and slowly walked away ; and Parsons 
 passed into the school-room to enter upon his duty. 
 
 According to pre-arrangement, Mr. Felix Brunnell 
 called upon Prof. Parsons the afternoon of the day 
 upon which the foregoing conversation between Mr. 
 Rowdon and the Professor had taken place. Mr. 
 Brunnell lived in another part of the county, and for 
 this reason, as well as others, had been selected for the 
 delicate duty of piloting Miss Rowdon from her 
 father s door, on the night when she was to decamp 
 with Parsons. 
 
 In order that this important and responsible trust 
 might be carried forward without nuy mishap, John 
 Parsons knew, that in making a selection of a young 
 man, upon whose sagacity and courage he might rely, 
 he would have, necessarily, to exercise a very large 
 share of caution. The party, in other words, who 
 might be selected to perform so important a part in 
 the proposed forth-coming comedy, would have to so
 
 404 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 fully understand his cue as not to need any prompting 
 from the side screens when the curtain went up. Little 
 mistakes occurring upon the common theatre platform, 
 in the rendition, even of a serious comedy may be 
 condoned ; but, in the execution of something that 
 rises infinitely above the routine of the dramatic stage 
 a something which is a living reality, and in which 
 John Parsons and Lunata Rowdon were the star char 
 acters, even a small mistake might prove irremediably 
 disastrous. The first part of the intended drama 
 would be presented to a very select audience ; and, 
 even that select few would be barred from any loud 
 exhibition of applause, when the second of these stars 
 should first present herself, as one of the chief actors, 
 and who would be led forth under the guidance of a 
 chosen pilot. A single misstep, in this part of the 
 play, might be fatal to carrying forward the design 
 of the pilot. A single blunder, in misunderstanding 
 exactly what was to be done at a certain crisis in the 
 comedy, might be fatal to cherished expectations ; 
 and, instead of the enactment of a dramatic scenee 
 which had been planned to end in the joyous consum 
 mation of youthful happiness the wreathing of a halo 
 of felicitous bliss about two anxious souls, there might 
 be a semi-tragedy, the wind up of which might be the 
 digging of a grave in which to bury crushed hope, and 
 over them write an epitaph to a lamented failure. 
 
 It was, of course, the intention of Prof. Parsons to 
 so arrange the preliminaries as to make no mis 
 take in his part of the play. He well knew the 
 importance of having everything so adjusted as to pre 
 vent the possibility of having anything move wrong, 
 and that it would be especially essential that he should
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 405 
 
 have the right kind of a man to plaj r the delicate part 
 of first pilot. A knowledge of these facts led to a 
 meeting between Prof. Parsons and Felix Brunnell ; 
 Parsons having determined to secure his services, if 
 possible, to play the risky part of chaperoning Miss 
 Rowdon from the house to where she would be met by 
 those in waiting for her. 
 
 Felix Brunnell was a very Appollo in his appear 
 ance. To a tall, muscular and commanding physique, 
 he added the special gift of a fine address and withal 
 was quite handsome. He was the son of an influen 
 tial and well-to-do farmer, and was about Parsons 
 age. Brunnell was selected as a coadjutor, in aiding 
 in the escape of Miss Rowdon for two reasons. First ; 
 because his especial sprightliness and manliness 
 recommended him to the position in which Parsons 
 wanted him to act ; and, secondly; because he lived 
 outside of the Rowdon neighborhood, and being a man 
 of undoubted honor, Parsons thought a visit from him 
 to Miss Lunata would create no suspicion, now that 
 Munson s horse had no longer a pre-emption claim 
 upon the rack in front of her home. 
 
 The meeting between Brunnell and Parsons took 
 place on Tuesday, the day following that on which 
 Parsons had sent him a written request to meet 
 him at his school-room at high noon. Promptly 
 therefore he came, and without a suspicion as to the 
 purpose for which he had been summoned into the 
 presence of the young teacher. 
 
 Parsons introduced the matter which he desired to 
 lay before Felix, without lengthy preface. He told 
 him that he was so situated at that particular time, 
 that he stood in urgent need of a friend whom he
 
 406 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 could use in a very delicate undertaking. The matter 
 in which he desired to use such a friend, he told 
 Felix, was one of vital importance, and yet, as he 
 viewed the matter, there would be, in complying with 
 his request, no compromising of any honor or dignity 
 of the true gentleman. He assured Brunnell that it was 
 because he had the reputation of being the possessor 
 of both of these characteristics, that he was induced 
 to make his appeal to him. He told Felix he was in 
 trouble that he needed a helping hand that he con 
 sidered himself as having been badly treated, and that 
 he not only needed a helping hand, but that he craved 
 the sympathy of some one who could appreciate the 
 difficulties by which he was encompassed. 
 
 "Parsons," said Felix, "lam your friend, and I 
 am your friend because I think you are worthy of my 
 friendship, and not only mine, but that of every good 
 man and woman in this county. If you are in trouble, 
 and I can serve you in any way whatever, command 
 my help, for in helping you, I am sure I shall violate 
 neither moral nor civil law. Say on." 
 
 To come squarely to the subject I desire to lay 
 before you," said Parsons, " I am in trouble growing out 
 of my courtship of Miss Lunata Rowdon. I need not 
 go into the details of this courtship. Suffice it to say, 
 that, although the sincerest honesty has characterized 
 everything that has taken place between us, she is in 
 about as much trouble as I am myself." 
 
 " What you tell me, Professor, is a thing that aston 
 ishes me for two reasons. First ; to learn that you 
 have made love to Miss Lunata that your love- 
 making met her approval, and that the whole thing 
 has resulted in trouble to both of you. Secondly ; to
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 407 
 
 know that objection has been made to your suit by her 
 father, which I now divine to be the cause of your 
 perplexity." 
 
 Your surmise is correct," sain Parsons. "Her 
 father not only stubbornly refuses me the privilege of 
 seeing Miss Lunata, but, with equal stubbornness, has 
 ordered her to cease showing me the common civilities 
 due a gentleman." 
 
 " Of course I have no means of knowing why he 
 should object to you on any grounds, but I could offer 
 many reasons," said Felix, " why he should be proud 
 of the attentions of such a man to his daughter. 
 Avarice ! Ah ! there is where the objection comes in. 
 As one of his neighbors, who had marriageble daugh 
 ters, used to say, lie wanted Idnd." 1 As I take it, Mr. 
 Rowdon knows the value of land, but makes a poor 
 computation as to the worth of talents." 
 
 " Accept my thanks, Felix, for your compliment," 
 said Parsons. "I can not consider myself as deserv 
 ing the treatment which I have been receiving. We 
 have therefore both rebelled against such injustice as 
 has been meted out to us, and not only decided to 
 ignore his cruel demands, but have determined to 
 marry." 
 
 " Good !" said Felix, " I glory in your pluck, and I 
 am delighted to know that Miss Lunata has evinced 
 sufficient courage to agree to your proposal of marriage, 
 even if it be under embarrassing circumstances." 
 
 "Of course, 3 ou will understand," said Parsons, 
 " that, inasmuch as we can not marry with his consent, 
 we have fully resolved to do so without asking his 
 permission."
 
 408 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 " Better still !" said Brunnell, becoming a little 
 excited at the outcropping of these revelations, " and 
 may the gods be kind to you, and help you both in the 
 undertaking !" 
 
 Yes, Felix, we have determined to fly from the 
 torturing demands that keep us apart, and, with no 
 accident to our matured plans, we will unite our 
 destinies in the sacred bonds of a solemn wedlock to 
 be riveted in another state." 
 
 " Bravo ! friend Parsons. The smiles of Heaven 
 and of good men and women, must approve of a matri 
 monial alliance, which I know will be freed from the 
 interference of a sordid avarice, and will be the union 
 of hearts and hands." 
 
 "This explanation brings me, Felix," said Parsons, 
 " to the reason I sent for you. In my present emer 
 gency, as I have already stated, I need a friend c n 
 whom I can rely for help some one who will be will 
 ing to assist Miss Lunata and me in working out such 
 minutiae, and such details as will be necessary to our 
 safe exit from this country. My question now is, do you 
 fed a sufficient amount of interest in the welfare of two 
 young people, thus harassed, to come to their help ?" 
 
 " Prof. Parsons," said Brunnell, " I am, in the first 
 place, most profundly surprised to find such a state of 
 affairs existing between you and Miss Rowdon ; and, 
 in the second place, I am now most profoundly inter 
 ested in its outcome. She is a noble young lad} , and 
 I must say. you have shown yourself to be an expert 
 angler to succeed in catching such splendid game. 
 How have you kept the history of this affair so quiet?" 
 
 " It is the quiet fisherman, Felix, who generally 
 lands the biggest catch."
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 
 
 " In answer to your last question," said Felix, " I 
 can assure you that I am your friend, and have been 
 from the day of our becoming acquainted. You may 
 therefore command my services for whatever you may 
 desire, and, if in my power, I will comply with your 
 demands." 
 
 A full and free discussion here followed with refer 
 ence to all the plans that had been agreed upon in the 
 recent meeting between Prof. Parsons and Miss Row- 
 don the time appointed for the escape the part her 
 escort was to play in making her escape from the 
 house the way in which he was to receive the instruc 
 tion which would make the escape easier, and all other 
 information with which Miss Lunata might burden 
 him, and w v hich would tend to lessen the danger inci 
 dent to such a risk. 
 
 Prof. Parsons very graciously thanked Brunnell for 
 his proffered aid, and inasmuch as the time had about 
 arrived for the opening of the afternoon session of 
 the school, the two 3 T oung men parted, and, as Felix 
 rode away, Parsons eyes followed him, but from his 
 heart there arose the question Now, What Next?
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 " Oh ! only those 
 
 Whose HOiilB have felt this one idolatry, 
 Can tell how precious is the slightest thing 
 Affection gives and hallows! A dead (lower 
 Will long be kept, remembrancer of looks 
 That made each leaf a treasure." 
 
 Landon. 
 
 CCORDING to the arrangement which had been 
 made, whereby Felix Brunnell was to meet Miss 
 L -M_\ Lunata Rowdon at a certain country church on 
 the first Sunday morning, subsequent to his 
 interview already mentioned with Prof. Parsons, Brun 
 nell was on hand, and having discovered thjit Miss 
 Rowdon had reached the church in advance of him, 
 he patiently waited till the congregation had been dis 
 missed, and as Miss Lunata came to. the door, he 
 approached her and asked if he could be allowed the 
 pleasure of accompanying her home. Miss Lunata 
 smiled an assent even before she made any reply, and 
 then said, she believed that he was her appointed 
 company or her escort home that day and that it was 
 expected he would also dine with her. 
 
 To this reply, Felix, bowing, thanked her for the 
 information, as well as for the pre-arranged invitation. 
 
 The two soon mounted their horses, and Miss 
 Lunata being an expert equestrienne, their spirited 
 steeds were quickly making the road rattle, as on they 
 went for the Rowdon home. 
 
 Rapid riding is unfavorabfe to carrying on a con 
 versation, and not until more than half of the dis 
 tance to be passed had been put behind them, did 
 they bring the rate at which they were traveling down 
 to such a pace as would permit a conversation.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 411 
 
 Brunnell then said : "I need hardly ask you, after 
 your remarks to me at the church door, if you fully 
 understand the special object of my visit to you, on 
 this particular day. I presume you know I am here in 
 the interest of Prof. Parsons and yourself, and, having 
 had a full revelation of the state of affairs between 
 you and him, I suppose I may be said to be in your 
 confidence, so far as I am to become a participator in 
 your proposed early visit to Ohio." 
 
 " Just so, Mr. Brunnell ; and I am very proud of the 
 selection Prof. Parsons has made in choosing you as 
 his best man. So far as your being my confidant 
 is concerned, I assure that I will be more than pleased 
 to aid you in fully understanding just what will be 
 expected of you on the night when I am to leave 
 home in the company of him whom I am to wed. 
 attended by his knightly body-guard, with yourself at 
 their head." 
 
 "I gave my promise, Miss Rowdon, to Prof. Par 
 sons," said Brunnell, "that anything he desired me to 
 do, by waj 7 of aiding him to the consummation of his 
 grand purpose, I was read} T to perform, and subject to 
 his command. I now offer you the same pledge. If there 
 is anything more than the commands I received from 
 him, that is needed to be executed by me, issue your 
 orders and they will be obeyed. There can be no con 
 flict in the arrangements to be made between you and 
 him." 
 
 " I thank you, Mr. Brunnell," said Miss Lunata. 
 "It is certainly very kind of you to accept the some 
 what responsible and risky task to which you have 
 been assigned, and I would have you know that I 
 appreciate your kindness with a true womanly thank 
 fulness."
 
 412 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 " Do not consider yourself, Miss Lunata, as being 
 burdened by any weight of gratitude, in consideration 
 of what I propose to do, or because of anything I may 
 do to further your desires. I assure you it gives me 
 pleasure to make the promise, and I will be delighted 
 to execute all orders issued me by Prof. Parsons or 
 yourself." 
 
 The accomplishment of my intentions," said Miss 
 Rowdon, "I know must be attended with considerable 
 discomfort, and possibly with some danger. A slight 
 mistake might possibly be attended with ruinous 
 results. It will, therefore, be very important that you 
 so familiarize yourself with the part you are to play in 
 our life-comedy, that there shall be no danger of defeat 
 from anything you may do." 
 
 At this juncture in the colloquy between Felix and 
 Miss Lunata, the stiles in front of the Rowdon. man 
 sion were reached ; and, alighting from their horses, 
 the two proceeded to the house. Upon entering, Miss 
 Lunata conducted Felix to a seat in the parlor, and 
 asking to be excused for a few moments, passed to her 
 room on the second floor. Here she doffed her riding 
 habit, and in a few moments reappeared reappareled 
 in the very neatest attire. She looked the very imper 
 sonation of quiet and fixed resolution in the eyes of 
 Felix, a veritable Roman Matrona. Upon the reap 
 pearance of Miss Lunata, the pair remained in the 
 parlor but a few moments, as the young lady at once 
 informed Brunnell that his first lesson would be 
 presented in another part of the house. She therefore 
 invited him to the drawing-room. Here the conversa 
 tion was renewed in regard to her elopement ; and, 
 inasmuch as she had discovered from what he had
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 413 
 
 said, that he was a kind of minister plenipotentiary, 
 to act for Prof. Parsons, she signified her readiness to 
 proceed to business without further waiting. She 
 understood just what instruction would be necessary 
 to give to Felix, and immediately began to explain for 
 him his first lesson. She had not proceeded far, in the 
 outlining of his work, when the ringing of the dinner- 
 bell broke in upon her lesson-giving, and she politely 
 invited Mr. Brunnell to accompany her to the dining- 
 room . 
 
 It was in the role which Miss Lunata assumed at the 
 dining-table that her grace and elegance appeared to 
 the best possible advantage, especially to him who 
 might be on the hunt for some one to preside as queen 
 of his home and queen of his heart. She presided, as 
 she did everything else, with peculiarly attractive 
 dignity. She enlivened the dining hour with pleasant 
 conversation and sparkling sallies of ready wit. Felix 
 enjoyed his dinner, and complimented it b} r eating 
 heartily and with a relish. Pie could not have done 
 otherwise, for the cuisine of the Rowdon homestead 
 was proverbially good. 
 
 The dinner being finished, Miss Lunata and Brun 
 nell returned to the parlor, and for some little time 
 continued the colloquy which was going on at the 
 time the announcement for dinner had been made. 
 At length Miss Lunata announced to Felix that she 
 thought it was about "time for books," and he had 
 better re-enter upon the study of his lesson, inasmuch 
 as it had been set especially for that day. 
 
 That he might study to a better advantage, Miss 
 Rowdon told him they would return to the drawing- 
 room. She did not, however, take him directly to-
 
 414 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 that room, but the two passed out of the front parlor 
 door upon the lawn in front of the house. Veering to 
 the right, they loitered for some time among a bed of 
 flowers which grew in such a part of the yard, as that, 
 standing among them, one would be in full view of 
 the gate on the east side of the house, which opened 
 into the yard 
 
 Rather suddenly Miss Lunata addressed Mr. Brun- 
 nell with the remark, " Bring your body-guard to the 
 outside of yonder gate ; (calling his especial attention 
 thereto) leave them there, while you pass through the 
 gate, and, following the path, come to a place that I 
 will presently show you. As you follow the path, after 
 having passed through the gate, it will lead you to a 
 porch in the rear of the house. Upon that porch 
 (notice carefully what I say!) unless some intervening 
 accident prevents, I will meet you, and, by you, be 
 conducted to him who will be in wiiting for me, and 
 to the rest of his company, who, as friends of his, I 
 will then gladly recognize as friends of mine." 
 
 Miss Rowdon informed Mr. Brunnell that her father 
 had a number of noisy hunting dogs which might give 
 him considerable trouble if they were not put out of the 
 way, but told him he need apprehend no danger of an 
 alarm being sounded from that source. "The negro 
 men on our place, 11 said she, "are truly loyal to my 
 ever} 7 wish. I will get some one of them to imprison 
 the dogs in the barn for that night, and will get 
 another one to take such clothes as I can venture to 
 take with me, and secrete them from other eyes, but, 
 letting me know just where they are concealed, so 
 that, with directions from me, any one of your com 
 pany can easily find them."
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 415 
 
 " Now, Mr. Brunnell," said Lunata, " we will 
 leisurely stroll to another part of the yard. Going 
 westward, you will notice some flowers growing near 
 the door to the west wing of the building. We will 
 halt among those flowers for but a moment, when you 
 can call my attention to something that has attracted 
 your notice through the open door, and we will then walk 
 into the drawing-room. I see from your expression, 
 Mr. Brunnell, that you are growing curious to know 
 the necessity of this extreme caution. If so, I may 
 satisfy your curiosity by saying that too much caution 
 in a matter so all-important as the one we are prepar 
 ing to enact, is far better than too little. There are 
 watchful eyes all about us, and to so act as not to 
 create any suspicion is important at this particular 
 time." 
 
 " I neither question your prudence nor your, motive, 
 Miss Rowdon. You are far better advised in regard to 
 the necessity of practicing a large amount of caution 
 than I could expect to be, in my short acquaintance 
 with any of the facts connected with your recent 
 history. Besides, I am here to receive instructions as 
 to my personal duties in the matter before us, and not 
 to criticise anything you may say or do. It is your 
 province in this case to teach and mine to be taught." 
 
 "Well, never mind about any dissertation upon the 
 subject of duty. We have too important a lesson that 
 must be learned," said Miss Rowdon, "to raise the 
 question as to how or why it has to be learned after a 
 certain style of instruction. Follow me therefore into 
 the library, and learn another letter in the alphabet of 
 your duty."
 
 416 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 Brunnell obeyed, and as the pair stood before a 
 picture, as[though they were contemplating its beauty, 
 Miss Lunata said, in a muffled voice: "From this 
 room I am to make my escape from this room, unless 
 foiled in the attempt, I am to fly from the demands of 
 a father, who claims the sacrifice of my affections, 
 and who would fain lay them upon an altar, before 
 which filial respect rebels. From this room, I am to hie 
 me away in quest of a larger freedom, and the right 
 to decide, as I have done, with whom I am to wed." 
 
 This information, as well as instruction, Miss 
 Lunata imparted as they paused before the picture 
 which each was assuming to admire. 
 
 As they^passed a rose-bush, growing hard by the 
 door through which they had passed, Miss Lunata 
 plucked two buds therefrom, and as they stood before 
 the picture, she gave one of the buds to Mr. Brunnell, 
 and told him to present it to Prof. Parsons, with a history 
 of the circumstances* under which it left its parent 
 stem. "Tell him," said Miss Lunata, " to wear it till 
 it fades, and then to preserve the leaves as a reminder 
 of the fact th?t they grew by the door of the home 
 from which I will [fly to seek the protection which I 
 shall find with him. Tell him that I send it with no 
 emblematic language save that, in its fading, it still 
 preserves the aroma;:ofjtits young life. Tell him I will 
 keep its mate and when we shall have been made one, 
 we will blend the faded leaves of both, and preserve 
 them in a common receptacle, as a historic item of 
 human history, which willfshow that the loves of 
 human hearts can not be tramped out by a cruel usur 
 pation of even parrntal authority."
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 417 
 
 Continuing, still in sotto vocc, Miss Lunata Rowdon 
 said: " Within this room will be enacted the perilous 
 part of my quitting the home of my childhood, to 
 share the fortune of him who has won my esteem, 
 won my affections, won my heart, and will I hope, 
 soon win my hand. From yonder door, which opens 
 upon a rear porch, I am to make my exit. What the 
 result of the step I am to take, in making that exit, is 
 something that belongs to the unwritten history of the 
 future." 
 
 Addressing Miss Lunata with a decided show of 
 pleasantry, Mr. Brunnell said: "I perceive, Miss 
 Rowdon, that you are so deeply interested in the out 
 come of the history you are proposing to have a hand 
 in helping to write, that you are growing forgetful of 
 the work you have before you." 
 
 " Pardon me, Mr. Brunnell, for my apparent forget- 
 fulness," said Miss Lunata. " It is really true that I 
 am most profoundly interested in what is to be the 
 issue of my contemplated marriage. It would be a 
 fearful mistake, if I make a mistake at all, and you 
 must not therefore be surprised when I tell you that I 
 sometimes shudder at the risk I am taking." 
 
 " If you will allow me to make a prophecy, in 
 regard to the risk to which you allude, I think I can, 
 with a large share of confidence, say to you, that I 
 think you run no risk whatever in trusting yourself to 
 the care and kindness of Prof. Parsons. I believe he 
 will study your comfort, and liberally provide for your 
 every want. I believe he will contribute to your hap 
 piness by ten thousand endearments such as a truly 
 brave, sober, energetic and honest man only can 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 27.
 
 418 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 bestow. I believe you will always have reason to be 
 proud of him, and I know he will be proud of 
 you. I believe, furthermore, that you will thank 
 fortune for the pluck that enabled you to moke 
 the exit, to which you have alluded, with the view of 
 joining Prof. Parsons in the journej" of life. If I did 
 not believe every word I say, I would be wholly and 
 resolutely opposed to offering my help towards putting 
 your hand in his, that you may become his wife." 
 
 Your very superior worth, Miss Rowdon," con 
 tinued Brunnell, "is of such a character as to make 
 your heart and hand jewels which justify a notable 
 competition in securing. Prof. Parsons has dealt the 
 lucky throw. You have given him your heart, and he 
 only waits to claim your hand, that his casket of jewels 
 may be then made full." 
 
 "I am a little afraid," responded Miss Rowdon, 
 that you are dealing in a bit of flattery in speaking 
 of my worth ; or, if in real earnestness in what you 
 have said, that you overestimate my real value." 
 
 I am not indulging in flattery, Miss Rowdon. 
 There is enough of real genuine worthiness, and 
 intrinsic value in you, to put flattery at a big discount, 
 in mentioning your superb characteristics. Nor do I 
 overestimate your real value, if that value is to be 
 weighed in the scales of public opinion. The truth is, 
 Miss Rowdon, I almost envy the Professor his good 
 luck ; but, believe me, I would not even dare to covet 
 that which is his by right of a priority of claim, as 
 well as by a superiority of merit. He is, in every way, 
 worthy of a splendid specimen of womanhood as a 
 companion in the pilgrimage upon which he very soon 
 proposes to start. Parsons has honestly won his prize.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 419 
 
 He has practiced neither deception nor hypocrisy in 
 playing his game, and I realty, believe that if practic 
 ing either had been necessary to success, he would 
 have scorned the idea, and given up the thought of 
 securing you for his wife. I do not believe you need 
 harbor any fear, or nurse a shadow of anxiety as to 
 his honesty of purpose, or that he will prove himself 
 to be other than your most earnest desires would have 
 him be. But to my lesson, Miss Rowdon, lest in the 
 waste of time, I shall fail to learn that lesson well." 
 
 Yes, Mr. Brunnell," said Miss Rowdon, "I want 
 the part which you are to play. in this transaction to 
 be so perfectly mastered by you, that that there can be 
 no possibility of a slip twixt cup and lip, through 
 any mistake of your making." 
 
 "As I have already said, through yonder door I 
 must make my exit to meet you, as my temporary 
 chaperon, when the time for my going comes. The 
 night will be dark, but with the quickened hearing 
 which excitement and continued watching will neces 
 sarily produce. I think I can catch the sound of your 
 foot-fall, be it ever so stealthy. Hearing your steps, I 
 will immediately open the door and step out on the 
 porch to meet you, and put myself under your guid 
 ance." 
 
 At this point in the conversation, Miss Rowdon 
 stepped to the door indicated, and casting a glance 
 across the yard and seeing nothing that would indicate 
 the presence of dangerous onlookers, she invited Mr. 
 Brunnell to step out upon the porch that he might 
 make another important eye survey. Going a few 
 feet from the edge of the porch, she told him he could, 
 from that point, see the whole of the way over which
 
 420 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 he would have to pass from the gate already pointed 
 out, to the porch upon which she was to meet him. 
 Following Miss Rowdon s lead, they both stepped back 
 upon the edge of the porch again, immediately in 
 front of the door through which they had just come ; 
 Miss Rowdon then said to Brunnell : "Just here, you 
 must halt on the eventful night, for, as long as you do not 
 put yourself in or on any part of the house, you could 
 hardly be considered a violator of any specific law. 
 You need have no fear but that I will be apprised of 
 your approach. In the stillness of the midnight hour, 
 methinks I could almost hear your breathing when 
 you shall have reached the place designated. Being 
 in readiness, and in waiting, just here I will put my 
 hand in yours to be led to him who has become the 
 idol of this poor girlish heart. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Brunnell," said Miss Rowdon, " as the 
 restfulness of a beautiful Sunday afternoon seems to 
 be abiding in holj 1 quietude upon everything about us, 
 I will hazard the risk, while here, of giving you 
 another view of these grounds and of the gate, which, 
 when it shall have closed behind us, will perhaps shut 
 me out forever from the joys of my girlish life." 
 
 Felix Brunnell having noticed that tears stood 
 threatningly in the eyes of the fair speaker, and that 
 there was the emotional quiver in her lips as she 
 spoke, said to her that the signs of disquietude 
 and trouble which she exhibited, gave him pain, and 
 that he was sure Prof. Parsons himself would feel 
 grieved to know, that, in her talk with him, he had 
 discovered even an unfallen tear, or detected the 
 unheard sigh, by the quiver of her lips, as she essayed 
 to speak. " For my sake, as the chosen emissary of
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 421 
 
 your betrothed, I insist, Miss Rovvdon, that you cheer 
 up, and do not send me back to him with dispiriting 
 information in regard to your mental condition." 
 
 In reply, Miss Rowdon assured Mr. Brunnell that 
 she felt heartily ashamed of herself for exhibiting such 
 weakness, and made him promise that the little episode, 
 which had just transpired, should not be mentioned to 
 Prof. Parsons. You will pardon me, Mr. Brunnell," 
 said she, " for my exhibited excitement ; and, for my 
 sake as well as for the sake of your friend, pardon 
 please, my frequent mention of the change I am about 
 to make in my separation from home and embarking 
 upon an unknown sea. My head is full of it. My 
 heart is full of it; and, out of the fullness of both 
 head and heart, my mouth will, despite the dictates of 
 my better judgment, prate about what is soon to be 
 the first daring exhibition of my disobedience to 
 parental authority. The closing of the east gate 
 behind me, and my going away to plaj 7 a new part in 
 the drama of what maj* prove to be an eventful life, is 
 indeed a thrilling reflection. Oh ! how my heart grows 
 restive at the thought. Oh ! how my whole being 
 seems to tingle, in anticipation of the change I am to 
 make, and, for my shuddering anxiety in regard to the 
 move I am so soon to make, T hope, Mr. Brunnell, 
 you can plead an excuse. I am but an inexperienced 
 girl, and instead of being censured for what I am pro 
 posing to do. I need gracious counsel, and considerate 
 sympathy. Give me your counsel, Mr. Brunnell, and 
 help me to believe that while that gate shuts me out 
 from a peculiar kind of life a life of tyranny over my 
 affections, and under which I have grown restive, that 
 I am doing right. Tell me that the matrimonial gate
 
 422 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 leads to fairer fields and brighter joys ! Tell me that 
 the tyrannized spirit of this poor girl can there drink 
 from a fountain that will cure the ills superinduced by 
 a forced insubordination !" 
 
 " I have already indicated, Miss Rowdon, what I 
 thought of the course you were pursuing with regard 
 to the exercising of your own judgment in the selection 
 of a partner for life ; I have likewise been very 
 emphatic in regard to my opinion as to the choice you 
 have made. I hardly know how to emphasize what I 
 have already said, so as to have what I might say 
 more comforting to you. Life is a kind of a game of 
 chance any way, and the lucky are winners. I think 
 you have drawn a winning card and ought certainly to 
 be satisfied with your play. There are many splendid 
 girls scattered all over this country who would like to 
 hold your hand in this matrimonial game. There are 
 many among them who will be jealous over your good 
 luck, and I really think you have been especially for 
 tunate in making the choice 3 ou have." 
 
 " It is unfortunate I have to crave pardon so often, 
 Mr. Brunnell, but, really, you will have to look over 
 my imperfections, and again allow my peculiar 
 environments to plead in m} T behalf for allowing 
 excitement to get the better of me again. Your 
 opinion of Prof. Parsons, let it be ever so exalted, can 
 not compare with the estimation I put upon his real 
 worth. What I said, was not that I entertained a 
 shadow of doubt as to his proving to be all that you 
 claimed for him, but, notwithstanding I have such an 
 exalted opinion of his real worth, I cannot beat back 
 the excitement which the anticipated change produces. 
 But dismissing the further consideration of the ordeal
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 423 
 
 through which I am being passed, Mr. Brunnell, and 
 bidding the excitement under which I have been labor 
 ing to be quiet, let us come again to business. I will 
 at least try to be more composed." 
 
 "I am glad to hear you speak thus," responded 
 Brunnell. " I am glad for two reasons : First, I am 
 glad on your account. Allowing your emotional nature 
 to get the better of your reflecting faculties must neces 
 sarily have an exhausting effect upon your body, and 
 you may so wear yourself as to defeat the execution of 
 the very purpose for which I am here to aid you. Sec 
 ondly, I am glad on account of my friend Parsons, 
 who will be comforted to hear that you are bravely 
 bearing the strain that is at present upon you." 
 
 " Enough ! Mr. Brunnell. I am convinced that you 
 are right. A very recent spell of illness I passed 
 through, I have no doubt, owed its origin to the same 
 kind of struggle as the one through which I am now 
 passing. But my resolution, from this moment, is 
 fixed. I intend to rise superior to doubt, anxiety 
 or fear. You shall have no reason to bear any message 
 to Prof. Parsons, save one that will comfort him ; 
 which is, that I am ready. If for immolation, the 
 sacrifice is in waiting. If for being crowned with 
 ecstatic bliss, this head is ready to be bared, that his 
 hand may place the coronet." 
 
 "Enough ! Say I too, Miss Rowdon ; I feel assured 
 that you will now be true to your new resolve, and no 
 more fitful flashes of despondency will be allowed to 
 darken your mental horizon. Now that you seem to 
 be your real self again, I will listen to any other 
 instruction you may have to give me."
 
 424 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 " Step this way, Mr. Brunnell," said Miss Rowdon. 
 Obeying the command, Brunnell found himself stand 
 ing in the yard, almost due west from the gate which 
 had been pointed out to him from the front lawn. 
 Brunnell took a leisurely survey of the whole sur 
 roundings, and so perfect a picture of the whole 
 was made upon his mind, that he believed he could 
 thread his waj 7 to any part of the yard, even amid 
 the darkness of the blackest night. 
 
 Brunnell knew the gravity of the part that Par 
 sons had assigned him to perform, and, knowing this, 
 the paramount importance of a careful and scrutiniz 
 ing examination of the whole ground became a matter 
 that he wanted so perfectly impressed upon his mind, 
 as to make it next to an impossibility to make a mis 
 take. He was consequent!} 7 ready to listen to every 
 suggestion that Miss Rowdon had to offer. After he 
 had made a careful eye-survey of the whole premises, 
 he remarked to her, that so far as that view was con 
 cerned, he thought if he were a good limner, he could 
 go away and draw a picture from memory, of what lay 
 before them, which would be so perfect that she would, 
 upon seeing it, recognize it as a view of that particular 
 landscape. 
 
 "Do you think then," said Miss Rowdon, "that 
 with the general and specific examination which you 
 have made, together with such explanations as I have 
 given, as to where you must come where I will be, 
 and what you must do, that you will be able to. reach 
 the precise spot for our meeting, be it ever so dark ? " 
 
 This question was asked as the two sauntered back 
 to the drawing-room, and in reply thereto, Brunnell 
 remarked that the seriousness of his impressions,
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 425 
 
 while she had been giving him her instructions, had so 
 stamped ever3 thing he had heard or seen upon his 
 mind, that he verily believed he could find his way 
 blind-folded from the gate indicated, to the very place 
 where he was to meet her. 
 
 " I am very proud, Mr. Brunnell, that, as the repre 
 sentative of Prof. Parsons, you have made yourself 
 such an interested explorer of all the ground, over 
 which you are soon to travel in coming to my rescue ; 
 that you have so patiently listened to all the informa 
 tion I thought you ought to have. and. by which, you 
 might be fully informed as to what you were expected 
 to do. I now desire to say, that patient waiting upon 
 my instruction, and your words of sympathy for me, 
 in my momentary excitement, have brought me under 
 very great obligations to you. For myself, therefore, 
 as well as for Prof. Parsons, I desire to offer you my 
 grateful thanks." 
 
 You are under no obligations whatever to me, 
 Miss Rowdon. What I am doing and what I propose 
 to do, are. and will be, missions of friendship. I am 
 no less interested in your prospect for happiness in 
 what you are about to assume, than I am in the per 
 sonal success of Prof. Parsons in securing the final 
 ownership of what he has the right to believe is justly 
 his. If I have, so far. discharged my duty to your 
 satisfaction, I am proud to know it, and will pledge 
 myself to be no less faithful in what remains for me 
 to do, than I have, with your help, already done. 
 One question, however, with your permission, I would 
 like to ask you. , 
 
 " Most assuredly, Mr. Brunnell," said Miss Rowdon. 
 You can ask any question which is germane to the
 
 426 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 subject we have under consideration. Your friendship 
 and disinterested kindness would warrant me in 
 answering any number of questions you might see fit 
 to propound ; especially, if the information you seek 
 is in regard to the business for which you were depu 
 tized to make this visit. Anything, therefore, relative 
 to my elopement, or pertaining to preparation there 
 for, I will, if in my power, most cheerfully communi 
 cate to you." 
 
 The question I have in my mind, Miss Rowdon, is 
 one which is directly connected with your leave-taking; 
 and, in view of the fact that Prof. Parsons has said 
 nothing to me about that to which the question 
 relates, I have decided to submit the question to you. 
 Before doing so, however, let me say, that the reason 
 why Prof. Parsons failed to say anything about what 
 I want to learn from you, was because of sheer forget- 
 fulness by him, as well as by me. My question is 
 this. Do you propose to have any young lady friend 
 to attend you in your flight?" 
 
 " In answer to your query upon the point men 
 tioned," replied Miss Rowdon, "I have this to say. I 
 took the matter of having a young lady to accompany 
 me, under careful advisement, and after looking at it 
 in all its bearings and consulting Prof. Parsons about 
 the propriety of my gqing without any female attend 
 ant, I deliberately concluded, for several reasons, that 
 it would be the safest and the best arrangement to take 
 no lady with me. Among the several reasons which 
 urged me to this course, no one was more potent than 
 the fact that there is, in our neighborhood, a very dear, 
 good girl to whom I am most devotedly attached, and 
 whose company I would have preferred to that of any
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 427 
 
 one else; but, I knew it would not do to have her 
 attend me. I knew that if she went, it would create 
 an incurable alienation between my father and her 
 father s household. I did not want to be the cause of 
 engendering ill feeling between families wherein, 
 through long years, had existed the strongest bonds of 
 neighborly friendship." 
 
 " I cannot refrain from saying to you, Miss Rowdon, 
 that, while you have presented no other reason for the 
 decision you reached, in regard to going without any 
 female attendant, I must most heartily commend you 
 for your thoughtful consideration of the interest of 
 your young friend, and the sacrifice you are making to 
 shield her family from the censure of your father. In 
 this thoughtful decision, there is certainly an evidence 
 of the purity and goodness which are ruling principles 
 in your nature." 
 
 "There is a Bible injunction, Mr. Brunnell, which 
 says : We must love our neighbors as ourselves, and in 
 the case of Miss Florence Sumner the associate chum 
 to whom I alluded, I think I complied with the Bible 
 behest. It is a terrible sacrifice for me to consent to 
 go without her, and it was only because my sense of 
 right dominated in the case, that I decided to go 
 alone." 
 
 "What has Prof. Parsons not won in winning you!" 
 said Brunnell. With the clear-sighted judgment which 
 you evince, what a pilot you will make for the life-boat 
 upon which you are so soon to embark. Upon a 
 smooth sea, you will be a comforter, and in the midst 
 of a storm you will be a counselor."
 
 428 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 Your enthusiasm over Prof. Parsons prize winning, 
 as you style it, I am afraid, Mr. Brunnell, will put an 
 estoppel upon further presentation of 1113* reasons for 
 not choosing company to go with me." 
 
 " Excuse me, Miss Rowdon, for interrupting you. I 
 ought to have been more thoughtful. But I have 
 become so interested in this matter and its outcome, 
 that I am sure you can overlook my violation of one of 
 the rules of politeness. It was an inadvertenc} . You 
 must condone it, and begin where you left off." 
 
 Remember, Mr. Brunnell, that I had just told you 
 why I decided not to take Miss Sumner with me, and 
 the pain it gave me to go without her; and. beginning 
 where I left off, as you say, I want to say to you that 
 the amount of my grief is greatly increased because of 
 the anxiety which Florence Sumner manifests to go 
 with me. Prudence suggests that I shall not take her, 
 and inasmuch as I cannot have her company the 
 dearest female friend, outside of my own home circle, 
 that I have ever had, I have fully determined that no 
 one else shall be invited to fill the place that is hers by 
 right of a devoted friendship." 
 
 " Another evidence, Miss Rowdon, that you carry a 
 heart large enough to give lodgement to a devotional 
 love, and a sacred friendship at one and the same 
 time another evidence of the fact that your loyalty 
 to him, who has won your heart, and a right to your 
 hand, has broken no link in the chain which binds 
 you to the eacred friendships of the days lang 
 syne." 
 
 " My friendships, Mr. Brunnell, I thmk, suffer not 
 the waste from w y ear, that makes them profitless. They 
 are not ephemeral. They live with me, nor fade
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 429 
 
 under adversity s chilling winds. When once bound 
 by friendship s chain, I glory in keeping the links 
 thereof bright ; and, when one link is broken, the per 
 fidious hand, that glories in the severance, leaves a 
 sting in the heart of her who deplores the existence 
 of unfaithfulness." 
 
 "You are still augmenting the proofs of your inesti 
 mable worth, Miss Rowdon. Higher and still higher 
 in my estimation do you climb as the expositions are 
 made of your true character, and when I return to 
 Prof. Parsons to make my report as to the success of 
 my mission, it will be interlarded throughout with 
 compliments to your good sense good taste and 
 what shall I say? Yes, I have it, your good looks. 
 To him I can further say, that I commend his good 
 generalship compliment his good taste envy him 
 his good luck, and yet wish him abundant success in 
 whatever he undertakes." 
 
 " And you might add, Mr. Brunnell, when you take 
 me to him through the darkness of the midnight 
 gloom, that although I go with him unattended by 
 any female companion, I will put my hand in his, 
 feeling that with that hand to protect me, I am pan 
 oplied by all the defensive armor that an innocent and 
 confiding girl need ask. His devotion to my interest 
 his pledges for my protection his earnest avowals 
 of uncompromising fealty to my wishes are all the 
 guarantees I desire. I know I shall be safe with 
 him." 
 
 " How proud it makes me feel, Miss Rowdon, to 
 hear you thus express yourself. If I had ever had the 
 slightest misgiving as to the correctness of my playing 
 the part, which was assigned me in this matter, the
 
 430 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 last shadow of that doubt would have vanished before 
 the stubborn facts that stared me in the face, even 
 before a tithe of my mission had been completed. 
 There has been a display of careful, thoughtful, and 
 honest investigations of the matters considered which 
 is not often paralleled in this, or any other country. 
 There has been none of the hap-hazard recklessnes-s in 
 what you have done. Recklessness, if unfortunate as 
 is often seen in cases of rebellion against parental 
 authority, when such authority is brought into antago 
 nism with filial wishes, is to he deplored. 
 
 If ever I have known a case in which full justifi 
 cation could be plead for open revolt against paternal 
 demands, I think, Miss Rowdon, you will stand acquit 
 ted, in the light of our present civilization, before 
 Heaven s tribunal and among men. The facts in your 
 case will no sooner become generally known, than an 
 almost universal verdict of the men and women of 
 this country will be rendered in your favor, for every 
 one will commend your course, and say you did 
 right." 
 
 " My father, Mr. Brunnell, will feel keenly the 
 defeat, which my course will show him he has sus 
 tained. He will fairly storm our immediate home 
 region, when he shall have discovered that I am gone. 
 But let his ranting be what it may. I do not intend 
 to give that father any justifiable grounds for raising 
 a disturbance with his neigbors. I do not intend to 
 do anything, or say anything, that will subject any one 
 to his ire. 
 
 " My going unattended by female friends, may put 
 the tongues of gossip-mongers in motion, Mr. Brun 
 nell. Their wagging will, however, not disturb me.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 431 
 
 I shall carry awaj r with me a clean conscience, and 
 will return with enmity in my soul against no human 
 being. I will go away believing that He who rules 
 the destinies of men will not look with disfavor upon 
 what I am doing, and I will return to beg for His mercy, 
 if in aught, I have done that which is wrong. Let 
 gossippers grow garrulous about my defying the usages 
 of the times, in my going without a female chaperon. 
 Let such loquacious babblers talk on. What they say 
 will damage the idle tattlers more than it will me. 
 Those who will criticise me, will do so, because they 
 do not understand my reasons for acting as I propose 
 to do. If they did, all criticisms, I am sure, would 
 be withheld, or turned into outspoken justification of 
 my prudence." 
 
 "I feel assured of one fact, in connection with many 
 others, Miss Rowdon, which have arisen out of your 
 determination to cany forward your plans, and to exe 
 cute them according to your own judgment. It is this. 
 Critics may say what they please about what you do, and 
 cavilers may captiously condemn your setting aside a 
 common custom, but neither the one nor the other will 
 weigh anything, as compared with the righteous ap 
 proval of your own conscience, and the justification 
 of your course by all good people. 
 
 "But, Miss Rowdon, the evening is waning; and, 
 inasmuch as I have completed the mission to which I 
 was appointed, let me, before leaving you, compliment 
 you on your rare talent for coupling business with 
 pleasure. My visit, I assure you, has been an exceed 
 ingly delightful one. I desire likewise to assure you 
 that a large part of my delight must be attributed to 
 the fact that my mission has been one of mercy
 
 432 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 mercj" to two young people who are making a stubborn 
 fight against the tyrannical decrees which have sought 
 to keep them apart. Wear a brave heart ! I can but 
 believe that all things will go well with you," 
 
 " I suppose, Miss Rowdon, our next meeting will be 
 at the edge of the porch the place you have indicated 
 as the spot where you will put yourself under my pro 
 tection as the escort who will lead you to the orchard 
 gate. At that point I will resign my charge, and Prof. 
 Parsons will take you under his especial quardianship, 
 to live for you, to protect you and to love you. I hope 
 no accident may occur to thwart our meeting at the 
 appointed time, and now while I offer you my hand in 
 friendly adieu, let me with that adieu congratulate you, 
 in advance of your union, upon the very judicious 
 choice you have made. Prof. Parsons is one of nature s 
 noblemen, and richly deserves the prize he has won." 
 
 With this parting salutation, Brunnell passed out of 
 the house, and by a rapid ride was soon in the 
 company of his friend Parsons, to whom he made a 
 full report of everything that had been said and 
 done, not forgetting to give him the rosebud, with Miss 
 Rowdon s accompanying message. 
 
 The success of Brunnell s expedition being fully 
 presented, he mounted his horse rode away, and left 
 Parsons to ponder over it. and in the midst of his. 
 musings to ask himself once again What Next?
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 "Oh ! how impatience grows upon the soul, 
 When the long promie d hour of joy draws near! 
 How slow the tardy moments sem to roll! 
 When spectres rise of inconsistent fear." 
 
 Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 HE school which John Parsons had been so suc- 
 cessfully conducting, and in which all of his 
 patrons, with two exceptions only, had taken 
 such deep interest, and, about which they spoke 
 in unstinted measures of praise, was closed without 
 any special ceremony or ostentatious display. A few 
 of his most devoted friends came out on the closing 
 day to extend to him the warm-hearted and commen 
 datory grasp of their hands in parting with him, and 
 in silence then to walk away; not, however, without 
 carrying away with them a large share of suppressed 
 indignation over the loss of so good a teacher as Prof. 
 Parsons had shown himself to be. No word or com 
 ment was made or reason offered why the school was 
 to close sine die. The pupils looked inquisitive, but 
 no one of them dared to ask their teacher why he 
 intended to leave them. They had learned that his 
 going away was involved in what they considered a 
 mystery, and that the mystery was of such a character 
 as to be unintelligible to them, but that it cast no 
 shadow of wrong-doing upon his part- that in leaving 
 them he would go from their midst with a reputation 
 as unsullied as that which he brought with him when 
 he came among them. There was a kind of subdued 
 murmur of dissatisfaction among the younger pupils 
 especially, as they gathered up their books for a final 
 leave-taking. There was evident disappointment 
 
 WHAT .KT? 38
 
 434 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 among them at the thought of giving up the teacher to 
 whom they had become so endeared, and as, one by 
 one, they marched up to the dais to bid the young 
 educator good- by, many of their usually bright, spark 
 ling eyes were suffused with tears ; but they passed 
 out, and he who had kindly, diligently and honestly 
 led them through the intricacies of what were trouble 
 some to them he who had won their esteem by a 
 course of sympathizing kindness he who was not only 
 a teacher but a leader, was their leader no more. 
 
 Prof. Parsons and Charlie Kirtland left the neighbor 
 hood without delay, and as they rode away together, 
 Kirtland, who had remained with the Watsons, after 
 Parsons had moved his quarters, gave to his teacher 
 the accumulation of news that had been gathered in 
 that household after Parsons had left it. Of course 
 Kirtland attended school every day, but Parsons was so 
 interested in the faithful execution of his closing 
 school- work, and in matters pertaining to what was 
 soon to follow, that he had given little or no attention 
 to what Alf. Watson and his coadjutors had been 
 doing. 
 
 When questioned by Parsons as to how the Watsons 
 were deporting themselves since he left them, Kirtland 
 answered him, saying : "I am of the opinion that 
 their hostility towards you is considerably modified. 
 Mr. Eli Watson came home from the recent meeting of 
 the Board of Trustees rather incensed against Mr. 
 Rowdon, because he did not stand by him in a certain 
 proposition he had made about some settlement with 
 you, the particulars of which I did not exactly gather. 
 In discussing the matter in the family circle one after 
 noon, having introduced it after I had joined them, it
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 435 
 
 soon became evident to me that there was some feeling 
 upon the part of Mr. Watson, Sr., against Mr. Row- 
 don. 
 
 Mrs. Watson expressed herself as being surprised 
 that Mr. Watson had been so unjustly treated by his 
 neighbor, while Miss Ida his daughter, ventured to 
 say that she had no sympathy whatever with her 
 father, reminding him of her prediction concerning his 
 interesting himself in the affairs of Mr. Rowdon, and, 
 by an unjust course, alienating the family friendship 
 from Prof. Parsons. "You will remember," said she, 
 that I told you the friendship of such a man as Prof. 
 Parsons should be much more highly appreciated by 
 you than the esteem of your money-loving, close- 
 fisted neighbor. You are reaping the product of your 
 sowing, and I hope you see the error of such planting. 
 Let Mr, Rowdon s affairs and those of his daughter 
 alone. The young lady has a sufficient amount of 
 good judgment to act for herself, and you will find 
 that prying eyes, nor untruthful statements in regard 
 to Prof. Parsons, will deter her from doing as she may 
 choose in regard to her marriage." Miss Ida further 
 remarked," said Kirtland, "that she was gratified to find 
 that her brother Alf. had at last discovered that the 
 part he had been playing yielded but little money and 
 far less gratitude." I really think, Professor, that with 
 a little ringing of the changes on the complaint of Mr. 
 Eli Watson, backed by the stubborn protest of his 
 daughter Ida, I could have brought as many of the 
 family as were present, to the acknowledgement that 
 you had been unjustly made the sufferer, in all that 
 had been done. When I demanded of them to name 
 the instance in which you had shown yourself to be
 
 436 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 anything other than a perfect gentleman, the instance 
 could not be named. When I asked if your associa 
 tion with their family had not been free from censure, 
 none of them said nay. In fact, while I was putting 
 these interrogatories, as well as others, Miss Ida was 
 quick to speak, and somewhat emphatically said that 
 your stay in the family had been marked by the 
 highest style of gentlemanly propriety that even 
 when you became convinced, that to remain longer in 
 their family would have been a humiliation, you 
 politely paid your bill, and like the true gentleman 
 that you were, quitted the house with as much 
 urbanity as if no shadow of discontent had ever 
 crossed your life, because of unkindness shown you 
 while under their roof. Remember his leave-taking, 
 said she. His parting salutation was such as charac 
 terized the man of heart. Who but Prof. Parsons, she 
 continued, would have shown this gratitude, as he did, 
 in his parting with old aunt Edie. Say what you will, 
 raid she, he is a gentleman and ought to have been 
 treated as such." 
 
 " Then you think trfere is at least a partial subsr 
 dence in the family s hostility to me? " said Parsons. 
 
 "I do," said Kirtland. "I had a talk with Alf. 
 Watson a few evenings ago, and found he had 
 grounded his arms and retired from the service of Mr. 
 Rowdon. The spy business he had come to consider 
 as not only dangerous, but as neither profitable nor 
 pleasant. So far as your stealing the daughter of Mr. 
 Rowdon was concerned he did not believe there was 
 anything in it that the jealousy of Aurelius Munson 
 had stirred up a suspicion that you were in love with 
 Miss Lunata, and her father did not fancy you for a
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 437 
 
 son-in-law. So far as Alf. was concerned, he said that 
 if Parsons wanted to steal the whole Rowdon family, 
 he could do so, without let or hinderance from him." 
 
 " Possibly this was only a ruse, Charlie," said Par 
 sons, "whereby he sought to deceive you, and thereby 
 elicit something from you that would shed some light 
 upon how I now stand in the estimation of Miss 
 Lunata." 
 
 "I might have been suspicious of something of the 
 kind myself," replied Kirtland, "but having previ 
 ously heard the conversation in the private home- 
 circle, I was led to the conclusion, that it was highly 
 probable that something which Alf. had said had 
 helped the other members of the family to a veering 
 of their sails. I think that the reformed spy was 
 honest in that talk, and you need apprehend no further 
 trouble at his hands." 
 
 "I am very glad to hear you say what you have, 
 Charlie. I left the Watson home feeling very much 
 chagrined over the manner in which I was treated for 
 some time before leaving them ; and yet, I concealed 
 my mortification, and resolved, that, under no circum 
 stances, would I resent any affront which might be 
 offered by any member of the family, Alf. excepted. 
 I had an idea that some affront might be resorted to as 
 a means to aid Alf. in his wicked work that drawing me 
 into making some short and bitter retort, which would, 
 according to their way of thinking, make it incumbent 
 upon the head of the family to hand me my pass 
 ports, as indicating that I must sail out without any 
 further notice. With such a course as this upon their 
 part, I knew it would soon be published that I had 
 had a difficulty with the Watsons and had been dis-
 
 438 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 charged as a boarder. I knew that for such a result 
 as that to transpire would be to my detriment, and 
 would be sure to prejudice somebody against me, I 
 therefore determined to bear all their flouts give all 
 their insinuations a listless ear, and if possible remain 
 in the family until the termination of my school. I 
 went back on this resolve as you know. You also 
 know that I could not have remained longer than I 
 did, without compromising my manhood and proving 
 myself a craven. 
 
 " To hear you say, therefore, what you have, Charlie, 
 is not so much a matter of surprise, as it is of gratifi 
 cation. I must say that I can not find in my heart 
 any animosity towards an} 7 of the Watsons, Alf. 
 excepted. I desire to remember their acts of special 
 kindness to me gratefully, and to have it to say ; that, 
 although they, through a mistaken course, prompted 
 by their eon Alf. had done me an injustice, no one 
 had ever heard me use one acrimonious expression in 
 speaking of the family. As to the stubborn defense 
 of me and my cause, by Miss Ida, I am very proud. 
 You know my estimation of her, and of the tjlace she 
 occupies, according to my judgment in the Watson 
 family. If they have come to understand that I have 
 been unjustly persecuted by Rowdon, Munson and Co. 
 I am glad to know it and am ready to say, all is well 
 that ends well. " 
 
 After Parsons left the neighborhood, suspicion in 
 regard to his intention to steal the eldest daughter of 
 Mr. Henry Rowdon was disarmed. Those, who were 
 wont to indulge in criticism, argued that if anything 
 of that kind had been intended, upon the part of the 
 young Professor, he would certainly have executed his
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 439 
 
 purpose before leaving the locality in which the theft 
 was to be perpetrated. If he had intended to capture 
 Miss Lunata by stealth, such an adventure could 
 hardly be expected to be consumated by retreating 
 from the field. The truth is, there were a number of 
 people in that part of the county wherein the Rowdons 
 lived, who had been looking forward, with a kind of 
 anxious expectancy, to the time when the hitching of 
 the horse of Aurelius Munson in front of the Rowdon 
 residence, would either cease, or some disposition be 
 made of the fact, as was claimed, that he would ulti 
 mately win the hand and lead to the altar the beauti 
 ful and accomplished Miss Rowdon. 
 
 In consequence of Prof. Parsons departure from the 
 vicinity in which he had been teaching, disappoint 
 ment assumed the place of expectation. Gossip in 
 regard to the predicted escapade of Miss Rowdon 
 ceased its garrulity ; and, for a time after Parsons left, 
 quiet ruled in the community. It was discovered that 
 Munson had ceased his visits to the Rowdon home, 
 and that the cessation of his calls dated back beyond 
 the time of the closing of Parsons school. With this 
 gentleman on the retreat, and the fort surrendered by 
 Munson, the best guessersthat were called upon for an 
 expression of opinion seemed unable to give any solu 
 tion as to what this change in the program meant, 
 unless it showed that both admirers of Miss Rowdon 
 had become disgusted with the status of their affairs, 
 and had left the field to some new seeker after an 
 unclaimed jewel. Gossippers and guessers needed a 
 new start ; and, on the question of matrimonial 
 ventures, there was not one couple in the community 
 about whom any one had dared to start a report.
 
 440 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 By some strange fatuity, it was only a short time 
 after Munson ceased his visits to Miss Lunata Rowdon, 
 until he became metamorphosed from a disappointed 
 suitor into a knight of the quill, and under the influ 
 ence of a new monomania, he had indited several 
 literary curiosities to Miss Rowdon. The kind of 
 hallucination that prompted him to undertake, by 
 this means, and under the circumstances, to reach the 
 heart of Miss Lunata, and cause her to relent and bury 
 her objections to him was a mystery which would have 
 puzzled a most learned psychologist. Munson s com 
 munication showed that he was, beyond doubt, more 
 of a pessimist than a poet. 
 
 Several of Mr. Munson s versatile efforts at opening 
 a correspondence with |Miss Rowdon were allowed to 
 remain unanswered. At length Miss Lunata concluded 
 that it would be the part of charity to answer one of 
 his letters, and thereby, put a quietus upon his per 
 sistent epistolary effusions, and have them cease to 
 intrude themselves upon her notice. She therefore 
 wrote to him. 
 
 Considering the character of the missives which 
 she received from him, and which scarcely deserved 
 the name of letters, her reply, while it was pointed 
 and pungent in its clear exposition of his igno 
 rance, his arrogance and his presumption, her answer 
 was no stoop from the exalted and dignified bear 
 ing of the true lady. Her withe ring c:iiici::n of his 
 offensive comments upon her actions her satirical 
 exposition of ~ his merciless pursuit of her his ungen- 
 tlemanly treatment of her, as a reward for her sympa 
 thy, when she had nothing better to bestow, all, all 
 went to show in their singeing and caustic effects, the
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 441 
 
 character of the man to whom she was writing. She 
 gave him to distinctly understand that the foisting of 
 such communications upon her notice, under existing 
 circumstances, was only calculated to destroy the rem 
 nant of esteem which she had entertained for him. She 
 wrote him frankly that any complaint he might make 
 against her would be as chaff thrown in the face of the 
 wind, and could but be dashed backward to the injury 
 of the eyes of the thrower, provided he who did the 
 throwing was not too obtuse mentally to perceive the 
 effect of what he did. But, wrote she; when it comes 
 to maligning the character of a gentleman, for no 
 other reason, than because he is one, and because I 
 h?ve a sufficiency of appreciation of merit to treat 
 him as a gentleman deserves to be treated, I confess 
 that my contempt for him who can deal in such con 
 tumely, scarcely knows any bounds. Therefore you will 
 do credit to what candor you have left by ceasing your 
 ignorant display of dissatisfaction over the fact that I 
 tolerated your visits to gratify my father, rather than 
 because I ever found anything in you to admire. Your 
 letters are beneath the character of a true gentleman, 
 to say nothing of 3 our professions of former friend 
 ship. 
 
 It is presumed that the javelin which sped its way 
 to the eyes of Aurelius Munson, upon the twanging of 
 Miss Lunata Rowdon s well-strung bow, had the 
 desired effect. It is presumed that he was wounded, 
 and inasmuch as the wound did not prove fatal, it is 
 also to be presumed that the wound eventually healed. 
 At any rate, he de did not hazard another challenge to 
 Miss Rowdon, by sending to her a letter of either com 
 ment or criticism. One dose from her pen had the
 
 442 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 desired quieting effect, and she was troubled no more 
 by his supercilious and badl}- spelled correspondence. 
 
 The state of Kentucky the second state to be 
 admitted into the Union after the adoption of the 
 Federal Constitution, was little more than a half 
 century old when the incidents occurred which are 
 contained in this bit of heart history. With the cessa 
 tion of Indian hostilities, through all her borders, the 
 state took-on a somewhat rapid development. But, 
 going back a half century in the life of the Common 
 wealth, it is not strange to learn that the country was 
 then so deficient in many things that now contribute 
 to the ease and comfort of her citizens. 
 
 The primitive mode of carrying on commercial rela 
 tions between our state and the Southern states, by 
 means of what was called flat boating, had been super 
 seded and largely consigned to desuetude, in con 
 sequence of what Robert Fulton had done for the 
 world by the application of steam for the propelling 
 of boats, and making them the means of carrying on 
 traffic, as well as rapid traveling. There were no long 
 lines of rail-roads, along whose lengths ponderous 
 locomotives dragged the wealth 01 the new empire at 
 its heels. There were no whirling passenger coaches, 
 bearing, in the aggregate, thousands of passengers, 
 with the rapidity of a bird s flight, from one end of 
 the new Republic to the other. No, no! The only 
 means of transportation was on foot, on horse-back, 
 and in the old style, lumbering, creaking, rocking 
 stage-coach. Private vehicles for pleasure riding were 
 special objects of admiration a very great rarity. 
 This is not to be wondered at. The character of the 
 roads made pleasure riding, especialh in winter,
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 443 
 
 an absolute absurdity. In some localities, the 
 more affluent citizens owned carriages, but they were, 
 to a large extent, only "shop-keepers" for carriage 
 houses. 
 
 The repetition, contained in the foregoing para 
 graph, has been made for a purpose, which purpose, 
 will l>e discovered in what is to follow. 
 
 It must not l)e inferred from the foregoing statement 
 that the homes of Miss Rowdon and Prof. Parsons 
 were located in the mountainous district of their 
 state. Such an inference would be incorrect. The 
 homes of these two people were in a rich and beauti 
 ful part of Kentucky Central Kentucky the Blue 
 Grass Region of Kentucky. What has been written 
 therefore in regard to the condition of their part of 
 the state, a half century ago, has been but partially 
 outlined, that the reader of the story, may the better 
 understand some of the difficulties that environed the 
 two young people who are made the hero and heroine 
 of this story. It has alreadj- been abundantly shown 
 that there was no alternative for these people to escape 
 from the obdurate injustice with which they were being 
 treated, except in flight ; and, inasmuch as the charac 
 ter of the roads over which they would have to travel, 
 in making that flight had not, as yet, been considered, 
 it was thought that some attention ought to be given 
 thereto. It was evident thej were about to enter upon 
 the last act in their life comedy, and if events, in con 
 nection therewith, moved on without any mishap, they 
 might reasonably expect to see the curtains soon rung 
 down upon the finale of the play wherein they had 
 been in the leading roles.
 
 444 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 In the bonds of holy wedlock, John Parsons and 
 Miss Lunata Rowdon had resolved to enter as a 
 life-tenure partnership. If the fickle goddess Fortune, 
 in turning her capricious wheel should pour upon them 
 golden-misted gifts of prosperity, it would be theirs 
 jointly to enjoy. On the contrary, should the same 
 deity decree that the cards which they drew from her 
 wheel be only blanks, they had fully made up their 
 minds to smile in her face, and -with stubborn deter 
 mination make a wheel for themselves and jointly own 
 it. Parsons was no Wilkins Macawber who waited 
 for something to turn up ; he proposed to grasp the 
 lever of effort and turn something up. 
 
 In view of the fact that the making of the flight, in 
 carriages or wheeled vehicles of any kind, in the dark 
 ness of a moonless night would be utterly impossible, 
 it was an unavoidable necessity that the trip should 
 be made on horseback. This being true, it was readily 
 apparent to Prof. Parsons that extreme caution would 
 have to be pr icticed or Miss Lunata would not be able 
 to endure the fatigue of such a journey. That she 
 might travel with as little exhaustion to herself as 
 possible, Parsons made arrangements whereby he 
 would be furnished with the best horseback locomo 
 tion that the county could afford. 
 
 Miss Rowdon, it will be remembered, had been in 
 delicate health for some little time ; and, while Par 
 sons believed she would be equal to the emergency of 
 the occasion, he nevertheless thought that the greatest 
 possible care should be exercised in rendering her as 
 comfortable as possible. Parsons had all the condi 
 tions before him, and thoughtfully secured, several 
 days before he was to make a final move, two of the
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 445 
 
 best saddle-horses in the county. He believed that by 
 putting Miss Lunata on one of these horses when the 
 party started, and having her ride that horse until she 
 became weary, she could be very much rested by 
 having her saddle changed to the horse which Parsons 
 rode, while he bestrode the one from which she had 
 dismounted. Riding the second horse until she again 
 became fatigued, another rest could be measurably 
 offered her by having her again take her first horse. 
 Parsons intended to start on one of the horses, and 
 the other, caparisoned with as soft a side-saddle as 
 could be procured, was to be led to the place where 
 the mount was to take place, after the prize had been 
 secured. 
 
 As the da} r s went by, Prof. Parsons grew restless. 
 Reader, do you blame him ? Was there anything 
 wonderful in the fact that he became almost 
 impatiently anxious ? Time seemed to hang heavily 
 upon his hands. Would it have been thus with you, 
 kind reader, had you been in the place of either the 
 one or "the other of these young people? No? Then 
 the presumption with me is that the same amount of 
 uneasy restlessness that had a firm hold upon the 
 mind of Prof. Parsons, was also holding sway in the 
 thoughts of Miss Rowdon. 
 
 It was true that Parsons was actively engaged in 
 making all the needed preparations for the coming of 
 an event, that, in all probability, would be fraught 
 with more important results to him than anything 
 which had ever occurred in his history ; still, despite 
 his reasoning despite his hopefulness, there would 
 hang about him an indefinable dread.
 
 446 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 Parsons was impatient, he was restless ; but, with it 
 all, he was something of a philosopher too. "It will 
 not be long," he repeated, "till the wished-for and 
 waited-for time comes. This wearing impatience must 
 find an end. This wild tumult of my soul, like the 
 rudderless vessel at the mercy of the waves, must, by 
 and by, find a calm. These swaying emotions, like 
 the rocking cradle of the mighty unrest, must event 
 ually subside. I know this must be so, and yet the 
 invocation half unbiuden mounts to my lips, as in an 
 agony of suspense, I cry out; Speed thee ! 0, thou 
 messenger of peace ! Speed the coming time when 
 hope shall change to glad fruition With words of 
 consoling prophecy fly to me with the message, that, 
 in the time soon coming, present pain shall end in 
 peace ! Haste thee ! thou harbinger of good, haste 
 thee ! Whisper something comforting ! Bid me 
 know that this consuming solicitude shall end in a 
 harvest of bliss, in the near by and by. 
 
 Of the waiting time, days were eventually reduced to- 
 hours. With the opening of the da} the eventful 
 day with Prof. Parsons and his bethrothed, even before 
 the first of heaven s morning jewels, the dew that 
 sparkled upon each trembling spear of grass, had been 
 returned to the incumbent air whence nature s alembic 
 had distilled them, Prof. Parsons was up and out, 
 enjoying the invigorating fragrance of the morning 
 breeze, and holding communion with his own thoughts, 
 and drinking a sweet draught from the fountain of 
 earth s superior beauties. He felt that before the 
 glorious orb of day had lit up the distant hills in 
 heralding the coming of another day, or from the 
 amber shadow of that coming sun, another day should
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 447 
 
 have been born, the first page in the second volume of 
 his life would have been written ; that on the yet unwrit 
 ten page would be recorded a scene all important to him 
 because of its being a record of the linking of his 
 temporal destiny with one who was to be the light 
 and comfort of his future life. 
 
 Contemplating the glorious on-coming of a day of 
 superior beauty he regarded it as a presage of some 
 thing bright for him in the future of his life. Stand 
 ing, as did Parsons on that morning amid a scene ever 
 new yet ever old, he broke forth in a morning orizon to 
 Him who rules in the armies of Heaven and among 
 men, and asked for guidance in making a start upon 
 an unblazed journey, and for help in his efforts to be 
 right and do right. 
 
 It was an ideal day, and Parsons busied himself in 
 making such preparations for his start as would find 
 everything in readiness for the departure in time to 
 reach the place of rendezvous in the Rowdon woods by 
 midnight. Every precaution was taken to make as 
 little attractive stir as possible. Caution was made 
 the pass-word among those who were to be Parsons 
 especial escorts. 
 
 By and by, with the waning of the afternoon, the 
 same day-god that had wrapped in effulgent bright 
 ness the far away east, as he had heralded the birth of 
 a day ; with chariot wrapped in gilded splendor, now 
 drove down the steeps of the distant west, while cur 
 tains of impurpled glory hung in fringing beauty above 
 the horizon. With the fading day there was presented 
 a kaleidoscopic panorama of grandeur which an 
 omnipotent hand only could paint. Prof. Parsons 
 looked with increasing delight upon the gorgeous
 
 448 WHAT NEXT? OK 
 
 scene. He interpreted the silent glory as presaging 
 good for him, in the venture he was about to make. 
 How natural that physical blindness, in its impotency 
 to look into the future, should lead the mind to inter 
 pret everything in harmony with the desires of the 
 soul. Parsons wanted, and earnestly wanted, every 
 thing to be propitious, and for that reason, looked 
 upon the beautiful heavens as prophetic, in their glory, 
 of his success. 
 
 Anon the star-crowned queen of night lifted her 
 veil, and with it covered the tinted sky and flecked it 
 full of worlds. The superlative grandeur of the silent 
 change seemed to still further impress Parsons with 
 the idea that his actions were approved ; for nature, in 
 all her visible domain, seemed to wear the smile of 
 approbation. The sunset scene in its quiet glory, had 
 impressed him the silent advent of the queen of 
 night had filled his soul still fuller of the idea of gen 
 eral outside approval. Parsons could not refrain from 
 drawing a contrast between the continually changing 
 scenes that environed him, while thus preparing to 
 make a visit to the Rowdon homestead, and the one 
 he first made, to the neighborhood under the pressure 
 of an earnest solicitation. In that first visit, he went 
 as rapidly as the swift charger he rode could carry him, 
 and landed in a style that well suited the sudden 
 entrance of an advance courier, for the coming storm. 
 He remembered too that much of his stay in that 
 locality had been marked and marred by trouble and 
 tumult, and he interpreted the difference as presaging 
 something better to come in the future. 
 
 Just as the hush of night had fairly settled upon all 
 things terrene, the group of young men, who were to
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 449 
 
 .accompany Parsons upon his trip, rode up in pairs, and 
 alighting from their horses, and unsaddling them, were 
 invited by Mr. Parsons, Sr., to a comfortable dining- 
 room, where all partook of a well prepared repast. 
 After supper the company repaired to the yard, and. 
 under the shadow of one of the splendid trees, which 
 made the darkness more intense, a somewhat lengthy 
 consultation was held in order that Parsons might 
 explain, in the hearing of all of them, just what had 
 been determined upon, and exactly how the program 
 was to be carried through. In addition to this expla 
 nation, there were many questions asked and answered 
 in regard to what would be necessary to be done, in 
 the event that there should be a hitch in the work 
 proposed. There was an interchange of opinions 
 among the members of the escort upon every question 
 introduced, nor was any question dismissed till a 
 distinct understanding had been reached in regard to 
 it. In this discussion, it was easy to see that concert 
 of action could at least be secured. 
 
 The clock struck ten. Horses were speedily saddled. 
 There was a hurrying to and fro, in making sure that 
 nothing was left undone that should be done as prep 
 aration for the trip. By the time these maneuvers had 
 been executed, another half hour had passed ; and, 
 inasmuch as it was imperative that their rate of travel 
 should be necessarily slow to the place selected as a 
 temporary rendezvous, and subsequent starting point, 
 the order was issued to mount and start. 
 
 That little company of midnight riders went their 
 way without noise, except such as the feet of their 
 horses made upon the hard road, and even this was to 
 
 WBAT .TEXT? 29.
 
 450 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 a considerable extent subdued, by scattering the com 
 pany and permitting but two to ride together. There 
 was no jovialist in that company who was allowed to 
 say anything that would provoke a laugh there was 
 no loud talking to be indulged in It was emphatically 
 a still hunt, and each one of that company was out 
 for the purpose of capturing important and valuable 
 game, and did not intend to do anything that would 
 balk their expectations. As they rode on, the quietude 
 of the night seemed to lend the atmosphere power 
 to throw back an echo from even insignificant noises. 
 The whistle of the belated pedestrian in the distance 
 sounded with unwonted shrillness. The neighing of a 
 horse in a distant pasture the lowing of a cow in the 
 far away the barking of a watch-dog in a home remote 
 from the road over which the party was traveling, 
 as though he, having been on the alert had discovered 
 what the sound of horses feet traveling through the 
 country at that time of night meant, and that he 
 wanted to turn tell-tale. But neither honest, belated 
 way-farer, nor midnight marauder interrupted the tiavel 
 of those who were on a serious mission bent. 
 
 Having traveled nearly the whole of the distance 
 between the home of Prof. Parsons parents and the 
 home of Miss Rowdon, the party left the road about a 
 half mile from the home of the latter, and this eques 
 trian body-guard rode into a large, dense woods that 
 belonged to Mr. Henry Rowdon. In about the center 
 of that woods the party dismounted and leaving one 
 man to guard the horses, the other five, led by John 
 Parsons, took up the line of march for the eastern gate 
 to the home-lawn of the Rowdon mansion.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 4-51 
 
 Reaching the designated gate, Felix Brunnell cau 
 tiously lifted the latch, passed through the gate into 
 the yard, and, because of the darkness, was but a few 
 feet away, until he was out of the sight of his com 
 rades. 
 
 To describe the state of feeling that the four who 
 were left at the gate experienced while Brunnell was 
 away, would be difficult to do, but to impart to words 
 the tumultuous excitement which throbbed in the 
 brain and heart of Prof. Parsons, would require a more 
 facile and penchant pen than the writer of this story 
 wields. All waited, with bated breath, the result of 
 Brunnell s adventure. It was a terrific mental strain, 
 and it was well the high strung tension was of short 
 duration. In a few minutes, (not more than three, as 
 Brunnell decided,) he and Miss Lunata, with noiseless 
 tread, came into view, and, in one brief moment more, 
 he had placed the hand of his fair charge in that of his 
 friend Parsons. Suspense, in the presence of victory, 
 became as evanescent as a passing shadow. Solicitude, 
 in the presence of the jewel won, was changed to 
 exuberant joy, and fear no longer claimed a place in 
 the soul of any one of that double triad, for Miss 
 Lunata must now be counted among the rejoicing 
 victors. 
 
 Hurried, and yet explicit directions, were given by 
 Miss Lunata, as to where her valise would be found, 
 and, while one of the young men went to secure that, 
 the others, with the prize which was now in the custody 
 of Parsons, started to the place where the horses and 
 their guard had been left. As soon as they were out 
 of reach of the Rowdon house by any ordinary sound, 
 a proposition was made and seconded by the united
 
 452 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 voices of the other four, that three cheers should be 
 given in suppressed gladness to Felix Brunnell for his 
 triumphant success. Accordingly three smothered 
 cheers went up from the glad hearts, which, if they 
 could have been voiced, unrestrained, would have 
 been sounded out in the darkness of those woods, 
 with such emphasis as to have startled the owls in 
 their midnight prowlings. 
 
 Just at this juncture the young man came up with 
 the valise, and, joining the party, the group went trip 
 ping along through the darkness, as though love and 
 duty had imparted the power of seeing as the feline 
 race sees. 
 
 Only a few minutes walk and the horses were 
 reached. After giving him who had stood guard, suffi 
 cient time to greet Miss Rowdon and pay her a com 
 pliment or two, Brunnell, who had been unanimously 
 selected as the commander of the entire outfit, gave 
 orders to mount for a start. 
 
 Miss Lunata was assisted to her saddle with knightly 
 gallantry, by more than one pair of hands. The young 
 men then threw themselves upon their roadsters and 
 all were, at once, upon the move from the woods. 
 These were quietly left, nor did they quicken their 
 speed until they were well out of the hearing of every 
 thing, and everybody, in Miss Lunata s immediate 
 neighborhood. 
 
 Their retreat, after the. party had proceeded a few 
 miles on the way, became a rapid, rolling flight for a 
 number of miles, and the echoes that came bounding 
 back from the surrounding hills, in mimicry of merry 
 laughter, and the rumbling clatter of horses hoofs as 
 they beat the solid road, was a scene which fairies, on 
 gauzy wings, might have delighted to follow.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 453 
 
 Fearing that there might be a possibility of Miss 
 Lunata s failure to provide herself with a wrap, suffi 
 cient to protect her from the dampness of the night 
 atmosphere, Parsons had taken the precaution to bring 
 w T ith him a nice, short, large-sleeved garment, made of 
 Beola cloth, and consequently quite light. Indeed it 
 was almost as well suited for a lady s wear as for a gentle 
 man s. This he requested Miss Lunatatc*put on, after the 
 company had proceeded less than a dozen miles on their 
 way. With a look indicating thankfulness, she donned 
 the garment, remarking that "this prudential piece of 
 thoughtfulness she would accept as an earnest of the 
 help she would ever receive at his hands, in aiding her 
 to take care of heiself." 
 
 After she had been securely enrobed in this new style 
 semi-cloak, she and Parsons having brought their 
 horses down to a pleasant traveling gait, he asked her 
 to tell him how she managed to elude suspicion, and 
 make her escape from the house. 
 
 To this Miss Lunata replied that she had to practice 
 a bit of ingenuity to prevent defeat. 
 
 You are aware," said she, "that there are two 
 stairways in our house. One of these leads from the 
 central hall to the chambers above, in the middle and 
 east wing of the building. The other stairway leads 
 from the drawing-room to the chambers in the west 
 wing of the building. My coming so near being 
 defeated, after my plans had all been matured, 
 came about in the following way : This afternoon 
 some of my young lady friends called to spend the 
 night with me. Of course, for quite a while, I felt 
 very much disconcerted, and had begun to wonder if 
 the innocent visit of those friends was going to present
 
 454 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 an insurmountable difficulty to my making my escape. 
 I felt very much alarmed over the situation, but deter 
 mined to put my wits to work, to devise some plan by 
 which I would be able to leave the building and no 
 one be any the wiser for my going. After very much 
 studying and planning, I decided what to do. A>:cord- 
 ingl} , when the time came for retiring for the night, I 
 sent a part of my company to a chamber in the east 
 wing, and anottier part, in company with my aunt, I 
 decided to appoint to a chamber in the west wing. 
 After all had passed to the rooms assigned them, 
 except my aunt, I visited those who had been located 
 in the first named chamber, and seeing that all in that 
 room were partially disrobed for retiring, I left tliem, 
 saying, just as I quit the chamber, that I would sleep 
 in another part of the house. Going below stairs, I 
 met my aunt, who was still in the drawing room. I 
 remarked to her, that she could retire to the room 
 above us, as what sleeping I did, would be done in 
 another part of the building. As my aunt started up 
 the stairway, I called to her, and asked if she had 
 securely locked the rear door to the room. She 
 answered that she thought she had, but that I could 
 look and satisfy myself ; at the same time continuing 
 her way up the stairs. I immediately went to the 
 door referred to, and under the pretense of making 
 security doubly secure, I unlocked the door and set it 
 barely ajar. I then extinguished the light, sat down 
 close to the door, and became a patient watcher for 
 the footfall of our friend Felix Brunnell." 
 
 You will discover that I practiced a deception 
 upon my visitors. I told those who were to sleep in 
 one room of the house that I would spend the night
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 455 
 
 in another. That I practiced a deception upon my 
 aunt, is apparent, from my telling her that I would 
 sleep with my friends in the east wing of the building. 
 By these deceptions, I avoided the necessity of leaving 
 the lower floor, and remained in the drawing-room. I 
 deceived my aunt in my pretext to be making the 
 door secure against in-comers, when, in truth, I was 
 arranging it for the sclent exit of a very anxious out- 
 goer. I practiced these deceptions, Prof. Parsons, but 
 I can not find that my conscience has, in any way, 
 manifested a disapproval of my acts. If ever the end 
 justified the means, I think it surely did in my case." 
 
 "My dearest Lunata, where an embodiment of 
 virtue, beauty and affection combined, is struggling to 
 bring an offering to place upon an altar which devotion 
 has built ; methinks the All-wise will pardon the 
 priestess and sanctify her sincerity. By and by, I hope 
 I will have a cozy nest, that will furnish us joy and 
 comfort, and in which we can make a common offer 
 ing, upon a common home altar, and that Heaven will 
 guard the sacredness of our sacrifice." 
 
 When about half of the night had passed, that 
 remained after the partj r had left the solemn stillness 
 of the Rowdon woods, it became evident that Miss 
 Lunata was growing weary. A halt was therefore 
 ordered, and the young lady was assisted to dismount. 
 As soon as the necessary change in the trappings of 
 the horses could be made, a swapping of seats between 
 the riders was effected. Miss Lunata seemed pleased 
 w r ith the change. She straightened herself up and 
 remarked, she was goodforthe remainder of the night s 
 ride. After traveling for some distance, it was readily 
 perceived that the change of horses had been of con-
 
 456 WHAT NEXT? OB 
 
 siderable advantage to the young lady. She claimed 
 that the gaits of the two horses, while both were excel 
 lent, were different, and therefore restful for her. 
 
 About day-break the part} came in sight of a village, 
 a dozen miles or more from the city of Maj S- 
 ville, Ky., and about the time they reached its limits, 
 the amber tinted light of the god of day was diffusing 
 itself about the tops of the adjacent hills, and, anon, 
 the earth was filled with corruscations of flashing glory. 
 It soon grew sufficiently light for the members of the 
 party to distinctly see each other. The spirit of crit 
 icism was soon on tip toe. Hearty laughter was 
 indulged in over the general appearance of all ; for, 
 although it had not rained, the thick fog through which 
 they had made their way for the last few hours of 
 their travel, had taken, to a large extent, the starch out 
 of their bodies as well as out of their clothing. It now 
 became manifest that Prof. Parsons had made a very 
 fine display of his foresight, for the outer covering with 
 which he had protected Miss Rowdon from the damp 
 ness of the night dew was wet, yea, dripping. 
 
 Having reached a hotel in the village, the party 
 dismounted the horses were sent to a livery all took 
 breakfast rested up a bit, after eating, and during the 
 rest, Parsons was wondering not What Next ? but 
 whether a reconcilement could be worked out of an 
 apparent paradox ; for he claimed, that, after all, he 
 was 
 
 Ax HONEST THIEF.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 "Believe me, if all those endearing young charms, 
 
 Which I gaze on so fondly today, 
 
 Were to change by tomorrow and melt in my arms, 
 
 Like fairy -gifts, fading away 
 
 Thou would st still be ador d as this moment thou art." 
 
 Moore. 
 
 r/ xiiK road from the village, where the party took 
 breakfast, to MaysvUle, was very much better 
 than that over which they had made their night 
 ride. Conveyances were therefore chartered for 
 the remainder of the distance, and, after a short morning 
 siesta, the vehicles being in readiness, an order was 
 heard, emanating from Capt. Brunnell, to prepare for 
 a start. The cr} 7 rang out All aboard ! It was hur 
 riedly obeyed, and soon the whirling wheels and 
 rattling hoof-beats, upon the road, indicated a some 
 what speedy travel towards the city, which they were 
 seeking. In about two hours from the time when they left 
 the village, their vehicles called a halt in front of the 
 Godard House of Maysyille. The company alighted 
 from their conveyances, only to take passage immedi 
 ately upon a ferry-boat, to cross over the Ohio river to 
 Aberdeen. 
 
 Quite a nice and pleasant company of people from 
 the hotel, with a nephew of the land-lady as leader, 
 crossed the river with the refugees. These accompanying 
 attendants contributed very much to the brightness, 
 gaiety and hilarity of the wedding party. They seemed 
 to have become, after hearing the cause of the elope 
 ment, very much interested in the young people, and 
 heartily manifested their approbation.
 
 458 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 Aberdeen the comparatively insignificant village in 
 which so many matrimonial vows have been registered 
 in which so many cases of defiant insubordination 
 to parental authority has culminated in marriages, was 
 at length reached. A search was immediately insti 
 tuted for one of the most distinguished "squires" 
 that ever said a marriage ceremony, or signed a certifi 
 cate that testified that two parties had been united by 
 him in wedlock ; whether in holy wedlock or not 
 remains, in the minds of many, a mooted question. 
 
 It took quite a search to find the "Squire." He was 
 eventually discovered in a wood-shed, in the rear of 
 his home, grinding an ax, and was tninus both coat 
 and vest. A report of his being found was immedi 
 ately carried to Parsons, and he, in turn, repaired to 
 the wood-shed, while the waiting assembly, who were 
 to be witnesses of the ceremony, held the fort, or 
 rather the Squire s rear porch, awaiting his return. 
 Parsons soon settled the amount of the fee to be paid 
 for the services which were to be rendered, and the 
 parson and Parsons then came to the company in 
 waiting upon the porch. Without making any addition 
 whatever to his scanty wardrobe, the Squire requested 
 the two, who had made the demand upon his services, 
 to step to the front of those who were witnesses. This 
 order was obej ed. He then requested that the two 
 join their right hands. This request was likewise com 
 plied with. The august priest of Hymen s altar then 
 recited a short ritual, and John Parsons and Miss 
 Lunata Rowdon were declared to be husband and 
 wife. 
 
 The usual formalities of congratulating the bride 
 were really informalities on this occasion. There was so
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 459 
 
 much genuine, earnest, whole-souled delight expressed by 
 those who had accompanied Prof. Parsons and Miss 
 Rowdon on their perilous adventure, that their exuber 
 ance of joy seemed almost a frenzy. The exhibited 
 delight of these attendants became contagious. The 
 ladies and gentlemen who had only crossed the river, to 
 be spectators of the marriage ceremony, entered into the 
 spirit of gladsome jubilation, with real zest. Congratula 
 tory speeches] were made by them as though the parties 
 who had just assumed the matrimonial yoke, were old 
 friends, in whose welfare they felt an abiding interest. 
 
 The first boat that landed at the wharf of the little 
 Gretna Green, after the wedding ceremony had been 
 pronounced and congratulations offered, was boarded 
 by the newly wedded pair, their chivalric body-guard, 
 and the very delightful people who had gone with them 
 from the Godard House. 
 
 As they returned, the hotel was reached just in time 
 to be ushered into a spacious dining-room, where the 
 party partook of a repast such as made the Godard 
 House, in the days of long ago, one of the most popu 
 lar houses to be found anywhere in the South. 
 
 The time when this transitory stop was made at that 
 noted hostelry, antedates the period when guests were 
 seated at a hotel table in this country, on which there 
 was nothing but dishes and a bill of fare. 
 
 When Prof. Parsons and his handsome young 
 wife, accompanied by their five knightlj" attendants 
 walked into the dining-oom, they were confronted by a 
 table that bespoke in eloquence, as well as elegance, 
 the sumptuous style in which the widowed proprietor 
 of that house was wont to cater to the gastronomic 
 taste of those who patronized her table. Every luxury
 
 460 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 of which our widely extended country could boast was 
 piled in bounteous profusion, upon a pair of tables, each 
 of which reached almost the entire length of the 
 dining-hall. The very arrangement and general 
 appearance of everything upon which the eyes of Par 
 sons partj r fell, as they entered the hall, wore an air 
 of neatness. The garlanded bouquets, that orna 
 mented the tables, spread their fragrance upon all the 
 surroundings. The general display of the viands 
 with which the tables were profusely loaded, indicated 
 that the hunger of all might be satisfied, and if need 
 be, a number of baskets full of the fragments be 
 gathered after all had been supplied. 
 
 The nephew of the landlady, of whom mention has 
 been made as among those who went over the river to 
 witness the wedding, seemed to have become interested 
 in the two young people who had sought safety in 
 flight. Just as soon as they alighted from their car 
 riage in front of the hotel, and he had ascertained the 
 purpose of their visit, he subjected young Parsons 
 in a gallant and polite way, to a kind of catechism, 
 which indicated considerable curiosity. Having 
 learned where they were from why they were under 
 the necessity of leaving home to wed, &c., he at once 
 made their cause one of such interest to him as induced 
 him to show the party especial attention. The 3 r oung 
 man was a handsome fellow and appeared to be about 
 the age of Prof. Parsons. He seemed to be an 
 important factor in the running of the Godard House, 
 and was therefore very much interested in the welfare 
 of the party whose marriage he had witnessed. This 
 may have had something to do with the preparation of 
 a rather superior dinner upon Prof. Parsons wedding 
 day.
 
 TEiE HONEST THIEF 461 
 
 From the number of people who were already seated 
 at the dining table when the newly wedded couple and 
 their attendants entered, it was readily seen that the 
 house was popular and doing a thriving business. 
 
 As Parsons and his wife passed into the room, all 
 eyes were, of course, turned upon them ; and, from the 
 suppressed murmur of voices about the table, it was 
 evident that a spirit of criticism was rife in the 
 room. Whether there was a concensus of opinion in 
 regard to any one thing pertaining to either the bride 
 or groom, there was certainly no means of knowing. 
 Nothing was said, except in a suppressed tone of 
 voice, which was too indistinct to reach the ears of 
 any of Parsons party. 
 
 The dinner was most excellent in quality as well as 
 quantity, and was enjoyed by the runaways. Sub 
 siding excitement at the end of a long, weary jaunt 
 had whetted their appetites and they ate with a relish. 
 
 After dinner had been finished, and the dining-hall 
 had been vacated, a number of ladies called at the 
 room of the bride and received an introduction to her. 
 For quite a time, she was entertained by them, while 
 they, in turn, attracted by her sprightly and vivacious 
 conversational power, enjoyed the privilege of a talk 
 with her. It was, however, quite apparent that each 
 one, thus calling, was full of curiosity to know some 
 thing in regard to the history of so romantic a court 
 ship, as they supposed that of the bride must have 
 been. Each one wanted to hear why the necessity had 
 occurred which made a trip to Aberdeen imperative. 
 
 The bride was shrewd enough to readily perceive, 
 that even if she gave to these inquisitive ladies, a bare 
 epitome of a courtship which had culminated in that to
 
 462 WHAT NEXT? OB 
 
 which they had been witnesses, her story would occupy- 
 very much more time than she had to spare. She 
 therefore quieted them, to some extent, by telling them 
 that she left at home a father who wanted her to 
 make a sacrifice of her affections, by selecting a hus 
 band for her, for whom she could scarcehy have respect, 
 much less love. 
 
 Speaking directly to one of her callers, but in the 
 presence and hearing of all, Mrs. Parsons said : "You 
 saw the gentleman I married. I know due allowance 
 must be made for my overweening opinion of his ex 
 cellent qualities. Make, therefore, such deductions from 
 my expressions of praise in speaking of Prof. Parsons 
 as you please, and I am sure that after your subtrac 
 tion, there will be enough of real genuine merit left, 
 to leave you convinced that I have made no big 
 blunder. 
 
 "The spirit of adventure constitutes no part of the 
 step I have taken. Calm deliberation and earnest 
 study of the question, which my act of an hour ago 
 has answered, was given to the subject, and the 
 dangers incident to such a course as I have pursued. I 
 appreciated the superior worth of the man I have 
 married I admired his qualities, and deliberately made 
 up my mind that I was a better judge of mental 
 endowment and moral excellence than was my father. 
 I have Prof. Parsons history from his childhood.. There 
 is no spot upon the escutcheon of that history. If 
 there is, my investigation has failed to discover it. He 
 is sober, educated honorable, honest and industrious. 
 He sprang from a good family. He is a gentleman to 
 the manner born. I would hardly have been satisfied, 
 with less than these as characteristics of the true genie-
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 463 
 
 man ; it would have been unjust had I demanded 
 more. He laid bare for my acceptance the sublime 
 emotions of his manly heart he sued for my hand I 
 knew he loved me, and more, I knew I loved him." 
 
 " Cruelty barred me, not only from giving him my 
 hand, and having it accompanied with a paternal 
 blessing, but even denied me the privilege of meeting 
 him. To this interdict I dissented, and met him 
 nevertheless. Of the result of our clandestine meet 
 ings and our surreptitious correspondence you have but 
 just now been witnesses. This is the gist of the whole 
 story. Were I to enter into all the details, the time 
 of my stay in Maysville would not be sufficient to lay 
 before you a tithe thereof, and you will have to excuse 
 me with the epitome I have given you." 
 
 "From your appearance, as well as from the appear 
 ance of your husband," said one of the ladies, "I 
 think you are not only matched but mated not only 
 married but have formed a sacred union upon which 
 Heaven will smile and good people approve. I 
 must tell you, that I not only commend your pluck, 
 but admire your taste. As you have remarked, we 
 might be right in making some allowance for your 
 enthusiasm over your success, and for your pride in 
 securing the man of your choice, but I can see no 
 reason whatever, why any discount should be made 
 upon the man whom you can now call your own. I 
 confess I have had awakened in my mind a lively 
 interest in your welfare. I think the All- wise Father 
 must smile in benignant kindness, and lend prosperity 
 to two young people who have had the philosophic 
 prudence to start out upon the matrimonial pilgrimage 
 of life, only after the responsibilities, the obligations,
 
 464 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 and the duties of such a life have been discussed in 
 all their phases. I have said that I admired your 
 pluck, and I said this because I think the fact is 
 patent, that the mistake in this matter is your father s 
 and not yours." 
 
 " I am no physiognomist," continued the lady, " but 
 I think I can read enough in the facial expressions of 
 each of you, to satisfy me that your elopement was no 
 hap-hazard, immature venture upon the part of either 
 of you. I am no prophetess, but I think I can dis 
 cover enough of the marks of decision of character, in 
 the strong and handsome face of your j oung husband, 
 to justify the prediction that nothing but accident or 
 misfortune will prevent his success in life. To you, 
 Mrs. Parsons, I have no advice to offer, even if I were 
 asked for it. You may possibly have been raised in 
 affluence. Your general appearance would betoken as 
 much ; and such would be my guess, if I were asked 
 to do so ; and yet, I am sure you have so studied the 
 relations which will be new to you, as to be fully pre 
 pared to discharge the wifely obligations upon which 
 you now enter. The ready intuitions of a good 
 woman are of incalculable help, even to a strong- 
 minded man, and with your sympathy and counsel 
 you may aid Prof. Parsons in rising superior to many 
 troubles." 
 
 "I am glad indeed that I met you," continued the 
 lady. "There was something in your appearance, 
 upon my first seeing you, that not only appealed to 
 my curiosity, but awakened within me an interest in 
 you. What it was, I am unable to say ; but so it was; 
 and, even when you shall have passed out of my sight, 
 memory will hold your picture, and, let your lot be
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 465 
 
 cast where it may, I shall have an interest in you and 
 follow you with my good wishes." 
 
 " My dear, kind lady," said Mrs. Lunata Parsons, 
 "I mo.t sincerely thank you for your interest in me, 
 newly born though it be. With equal gratitude I 
 would express my appreciation of your sympathy for 
 me. Your maturity in years gives potency to all you 
 have said, and I am certainly gratified to find an earn 
 est well wisher, upon the very threshhold of my mar 
 ried life. I am the more grateful to you for your 
 encouraging words, in view of the fact that maternal 
 counsel is something I have never known since I was 
 old enough to appreciate the real worth of a mother s 
 love. I lost my mother while I was yet a child in 
 years, and have been left, to a large extent, since her 
 demise, to my own instincts, in making my way 
 through the difficult mazes of my youthful life. I have 
 now entered upon a new field of duties. With what 
 success, my efforts to discharge these duties, and to meet 
 the obligations of my changed canditions are to be crown 
 ed, is, of course yet to be developed. If however my suc 
 cess is to be commensurate with my ambition, I cannot 
 believe I shall fail. If my achievements are to be 
 equal to my determination, I think I must succeed. 
 That I should start out upon my matrimonial journey 
 with such comforting Avords of commendation for the 
 course I have pursued, and cheering good-wishes from 
 you, as well as from the other ladies who have favored 
 me with this visit, I interpret as ominous of anything 
 but evil. 
 
 "Ladies," continued Mrs. Parsons; it has been a 
 matter of extreme gratification to me that no one of 
 
 WHAT NEXT? 30.
 
 496 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 you has even intimated an adverse criticism because of 
 my leaving home under the circumstances. On the 
 contrary, you have been outspoken in j our expressions 
 of a belief that I did right. I may never see any of 
 you again, and you will please allow me once more to 
 thank you for having placed a flower of rare fragrance 
 in memory s casket. The words of encouragement 
 which you have spoken the manifestation of your 
 sympathy for me, is a charity so rich and oppor 
 tune, that it makes me doubly glad that I met you. Of 
 course the scenes through which I have passed today 
 can never, during my life, fade from my remembrance, 
 and as oft as they are recalled, just so often will your 
 faces and your pleasant attentions constitute a part of 
 the picture." 
 
 The ladies seemed to regard this part of Mrs. 
 Parsons .remarks as a kind of perioration, or finale to 
 what she had to say, and they therefore, after having 
 given an affectionate farewell to the new bride, left her 
 to the quiet and restfulness of her room. 
 
 As has been before stated, Miss Lunata Rowdon had 
 not been well for some weeks previous to her under 
 taking the long and fatigueing horseback ride that 
 she made in going to the village which was reached 
 just after daylight on that morning. It is not, for that 
 reason, a matter of surprise that she should have 
 seemed worn by the trip ; even so much so, that despite 
 her effort to be herself, she could not help wealing a 
 jaded or tired expression. As soon therefore as the 
 lady visitors had left the room, she threw herself upon 
 the bed, determined to try the effect of a quiet Spanish 
 siesta. She soon fell into a peaceful and dreamless 
 sleep.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 467 
 
 About three o clock in the afternoon Capt. Brunnell 
 had the carriages ordered to the front of the hotel, and 
 preparations having been made for the start on the 
 return trip, Parsons went to his bride s room to notify 
 her that preparations were being made for the start 
 homeward. Upon entering the room he found her 
 sleeping the sleep of undisturbed peace. Parsons 
 stood before that living picture and gazed thereon in 
 rapturous delight. Her rich raven curls had fallen in 
 neglige over her fair brow, and presented a striking 
 contrast between the alabaster whiteness of the one 
 and the ebon blackness of the other. In mute admi 
 ration, he stood over the young bride, and indulged in 
 a mental soliloquy. I have won the prize. It is 
 now marked in my name. No one can now dispute 
 my claim. No jealous rival need now bid for what I 
 have captured. The game is ended. The premium 
 has been awarded. It is mine. No interdict save that 
 of death can now rob me of the jewel which is to 
 adorn my crest. No, No ! It is all mine ! My very 
 heart-beats are in unison with hers. May the male 
 dictions of Heaven be visited upon my unworthy head, 
 should 1 ever cease to admire and love this dear girl. 
 May my memory grow to be a blank should I ever for 
 get the sacrifices she has made, in giving herself to 
 me." 
 
 With the closing up of these revolving thoughts, 
 Prof. Parsons gently leaned over the fair sleeper, and, 
 with his own lips, touched hers. She opened her eyes 
 and smilingly greeted her new spouse after the first 
 nap of married life. 
 
 The groom then informed his bride that the con 
 veyances were in waiting in front of the hotel, and that
 
 468 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 their company had protested against starting on the 
 homeward run without having her on board. After a 
 hastily arranged toilet, Mrs. Lunata Parsons signified 
 her readiness for the journey. 
 
 The bride and groom passed down the stairway and 
 out to the street, where the carriages stood. Anticipat 
 ing the departure, the guests and regular dwellers in 
 the hotel had assembled on the sidewalk in front of the 
 hotel door ; and, as the bride made her appearance, 
 there was exhibited upon the part of all present, a 
 desire to see her, and greet her, as well as to shout a 
 vive vale to her as she entered her carriage. 
 
 Amid the chatter of many voices, in each of which 
 there was an expression equivalent to "Long live Mr. 
 and Mrs. Parsons," the retinue moved off, and as long 
 as it was in sight of the hotel, the company in front of 
 the door waved their handkerchiefs as a parting good 
 bye, and as indicating the interest they all felt in the 
 welfare of the two people who had started on the 
 pilgrimage of married life two people who had so 
 favorably impressed every one with whom they were 
 brought into immediate contact two people who, 
 although they were bound to each other by the ties of 
 love s firmest chain, had nevertheless souls full of ad 
 miration for the beautiful, the true and the good. 
 
 The journey back to the village, where the horses had 
 been left in the morning, was neither marked by any 
 thing of special interest, nor noted for any particular 
 enjoyment. There was, shortly after the company 
 started, some demonstration of joy over the fact that 
 theirs was the triumphant return of those who had 
 been out upon a momentous mission, and were some 
 what elated over their victory.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 469 
 
 The all night ride which the party had made was 
 well calculated to dampen the jubilant spirits with 
 which each of them had left the Rowdon plantation, 
 and the fatigue of that ride was beginning to tell on each 
 of them. This feeling of lassitude became more and 
 more perceptible as the excitement subsided, which 
 was incident to the accompanying of a runaway couple 
 to Aberdeen. 
 
 After they had traveled some distance from Mays- 
 ville, towards the village in which they had halted for 
 breakfast in the morning, there was but little of that 
 exuberant gladness which had been so noticeable on 
 the previous night. Their garrulity having subsided, 
 each of them seemed to have drawn his studying cap 
 well down over his brow, and to have shrunk into 
 a state of semi-somnolence. 
 
 The thumping of the iron-clad hoofs of the horses 
 upon the hard road the rattle of the carriage wheels, 
 in their whirring rounds, and the occasional sharp 
 crack of the jehu who was urging his liven 7 steeds to 
 greater speed, was not a lullaby, by which Somnus 
 could be attracted. The result was that none of 
 the gentlemen slept, the}" only dozed. 
 
 The case was different with Mrs. Parsons. The 
 excitement of the previous night, and of that morning, 
 had kept her nervous S3*stem so highly strung up, 
 that the strain which she underwent, in her physical 
 condition was something terrible ; and yet, but for the 
 continual excitement to which she was subjected, it 
 is questionable whether she would have been able to 
 have made the trip. 
 
 With the subsidence of the excitement, which ran to 
 a fever heat while flying from home, Prof. Parsons saw
 
 470 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 that there came upon his bride a look of appealing 
 weariness. This, of course, become a source of trouble 
 to him, and he at once decided upon a plan by which 
 she might be rested. He, therefore, so arranged his 
 position in the carriage as that she could, by reclining, 
 rest her head in his lap. In this position, with a soft 
 shawl converted into a pillow, she rode the balance of 
 the way to the village to which the party was going. 
 Upon reaching there, she expressed herself as consider 
 ably refreshed by the sleep she had secured, and 
 declared her rest and sleep had been as sweet and 
 undisturbed as if she had been reclining upon the 
 softest couch. 
 
 Poor travel-worn young wife ! In her delicate state 
 of health it. was almost wonderful that she stood as 
 well as she did the wear of so trying a jaunt. It is 
 not at all wonderful, however, that she could get an 
 invigorating sleep in the arms of him whom she con 
 sidered her shield and comfort. Poor, weary, but 
 resolute young wife ! She was tired, but the tranquil 
 lizing effect of her triumph over, her fears, and her 
 victory over her doubts invited rest and sleep. Physical 
 conditions considered, in connection with her weariness, 
 she would have wooed both rest and sleep under almost 
 any kind of surroundings, but to nestle down in the 
 arms of him whose wooing had been a source of 
 infinite delight was the nearest road to where she could 
 get a supernal sip from the waters of Lethe and forget 
 that she was weary. 
 
 The party who entered Maysville in somewhat hot 
 haste in the morning, had, after their return from 
 Aberdeen, grown a little dilatory; and, consequently, 
 not being so exact in keeping everything up to the
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 471 
 
 minute as to time, did not get started from the Godard 
 House until quite a while after the hour had passed 
 which had been set for its departure. The result of 
 that dilatoriness, coupled with the tardy traveling of 
 the teams, made their arrival in the village where they 
 would spend the night, only a little in advance of the 
 out-coming of the stars. Their conveyances were 
 driven to the front of the village hotel, in which they 
 had taken their breakfast and had had a few minutes 
 rest. 
 
 The place w r as uninviting. There was an exhibit 
 of untidiness everywhere about the establishment. 
 Several poorly clad loafers were hanging about the 
 office to which was attached a bar-room. The w r aiters 
 about the place looked frowzy and unkempt. The lights 
 were poor sputtering things regular tallow dips, with 
 whose burning there seemed to be a kind of antago 
 nism between burning grease and water. The whole 
 house had a dingy and tumble-down appearance. The 
 party was, however, in for it, for at least one night, 
 and whether the accommodations and fare were good, 
 bad, or indifferent, the part} 7 of. returning refugees found 
 " they would have to endure what they could not 
 cure." 
 
 After considerable delaj T a room was assigned to 
 each of the gentlemen, and Mr. and Mrs. Parsons 
 were conducted to what was said to be the best room 
 in the house the bridal chamber. There being no 
 loose baggage belonging to the party except the valise 
 containing the extra clothing which Mrs. Parsons had 
 brought with her, this was ordered to the room which 
 had been assigned to the bride and groom. As soon 
 as a servant had deposited the valise in the room and
 
 472 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 had retired, Mrs. Parsons opened it, and took there 
 from a lot of clothing which she laid upon a divan. 
 Just then the bell rang for supper, and Prof. Parsons 
 and his wife left the room and closing the door failed 
 to lock it, and passed down to the dining-room. 
 
 The supper table was not more attractive than that 
 which had before presented itself, and was therefore 
 uninviting. It was but poorly supplied with provision, 
 and even what it did cont?in was wretchedly prepared. 
 The coffee was poor bitter stuff the bread very indif 
 ferent, and cold the meat poorly prepared and indif 
 ferent at best. To make matters still worse the little 
 that was at all palatable was served by a dowdyish set 
 of waiters. Parsons ate but little and his wife less. 
 As to how the rest of the company fared must have 
 been decided should be kept a secret, for whenever 
 that supper was afterwards named, a gathered frown 
 was all the reply that could be extorted from any one 
 of them. 
 
 With the reputation that Kentuckj had, in that time 
 long gone, for the sumptuous living of its citizens the 
 peculiar excellence in the style of cooking at the hands 
 of the Aunt Dinah experts the rich provisions which 
 the majority of its people made in supplying their 
 larders with everything that was needed to make the 
 culinary arrangements perfect the usually earnest 
 efforts of the hostelries of that time to cater to the 
 taste of travelers, all made it rather remarkable that a 
 village inn located upon the margin of the Blue Grass 
 region, should have been found, in which there was 
 nothing to recommend Kentucky living, Kentucky 
 tidiness, or Kentuck} 7 hotel-keeping. 
 
 Upon returning to her room from supper, Mrs. Par-
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 473 
 
 sons found that a part of the clothing which she had 
 left upon the divan had disappeared. This fact was 
 reported to Prof. Parsons by his wife, and by him was 
 communicated to his company. The gentlemen were 
 all considerably exasperated over the occurrence, and 
 felt disposed to demand that the clothing should be 
 produced or that Mrs. Parsons should be reimbursed 
 for her loss. But the young bride, hearing that the 
 gentlemanly company of escorts were talking of holding 
 the hotel responsible for the daring piece of thievery, 
 sent for Felix Brunnell, and insisted that, for her sake, 
 nothing more should be said about the piece of pilfer 
 ing which had been done, nor about the loss which she 
 had sustained. The goodness of her nature prompted 
 her to uncomplainingly suffer loss, rather than have 
 either hand or voice used to bring just punishment 
 upon a thievish culprit. 
 
 Having spent the night, all repaired to the breakfast 
 table, and were again confronted with a spread of 
 viands scarcely more inviting than those of the previous 
 afternoon. There was a happy riddance of the sput 
 tering tallow candles ; but, with this exception, there 
 were present all of the unlovely paraphernalia of the 
 previous evening. 
 
 As much of that meal as would answer the imme 
 diate demands of a company which had a long, and 
 somewhat rough ride before them, was consumed. 
 There was no dallying here there was nothing to 
 invite it, and their horses were ordered bills paid, and 
 an order issued by Brunnell to prepare for a mount. 
 This order was cheerfully obeyed ; and, in a few 
 minutes, that company turned away from the hotel 
 most thoroughly disgusted with it, and everything con 
 nected therewith.
 
 474 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 If that village had been a modern Sodom, from which 
 Prof. Parsons had been ordered to flee with his wife to 
 some Blue Grass Zoar, the groom would have been in 
 no danger of losing his young spouse, because of her 
 violating the interdict, not to look back. No pillar of 
 salt would have been found afterward in that section of 
 the country, as a monument of disobedience. Mrs. 
 Lunata Parsons had seen enough of that village ; and, 
 if so ordered, would not have turned a lingering regret 
 ful look thereon had it been lighting up the firmament 
 with its flames in the distance behind her. She would 
 have sympathized with the people, for sympathy was a 
 potent factor in her nature, but a village that could 
 furnish no belter accommodations than they had found 
 there, deserved to be consigned to the flames. This 
 wish could not have been indulged in, except that a 
 more enterprising people might, at least, put up a 
 hotel that would not detract from the reputation which 
 the state enjoyed, of being fond of something good to 
 eat, as well as fond of other contributions to the pleas 
 ure of traveling. 
 
 The refreshing sleep of the night, and the invigorating 
 healthfulness of the morning air seemed to have filled 
 every rider with new life and new joy. Gladsome 
 brightness seemed to play on every face, and the spirit 
 of hilarity ruled the hour. Pranks were indulged in, 
 jokes were told, funny incidents recounted, and even the 
 disposition to try the mettle of their different horses, 
 led to the bantering for trial races over a short run, on 
 a level piece of road. Mrs. Parsons seemed to catch the 
 spirit of fun and frolic ; and, being a good rider, felt 
 inclined herself to try the speed of her fine saddle-horse. 
 Accustomed to that kind of traveling, as well as famil-
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 475 
 
 iar with that kind of exercise, she was something of an 
 expert in exercising as an equestrienne, and had 
 learned very much about how to manage the horse she 
 might he riding. Besides, she disliked, when well 
 mounted, to cower before a banter for a race, let the 
 banter come from whom it might. When the fleetness 
 of the different horses in the party was being discussed, 
 as judged from their build, it was evident that young 
 Mrs. Parsons was just a bit opinionated as to the fleet- 
 ness of the horse upon which she was mounted, and 
 equally evident that she would like to try his speed in 
 a sally of a few hundred yards. 
 
 Prof. Parsons felt that he had encountered numerous 
 difficulties had undergone intense mental suffering, 
 and had had his pride humiliated before he had been 
 able to secure his wife, and now that she was his 
 absolutely and unmistakably his ; he intended, by 
 every possible means in his power, to protect her from 
 danger. He had unlimited confidence in her excellent 
 horsemanship, and had faith also in her -ability to 
 manage almost any horse that a lad} would venture 
 to ride ; but, at the same time, he had little or no 
 confidence in her power to foresee accidents. Beside 
 these, he knew the recent illness through which she 
 had passed must necessarily have had a depleting 
 effect upon her strength ; and, for these reasons he 
 preferred that she should neither give to any one of the 
 party nor accept a banter, from any member of it, for 
 the trial of the speed of her horse. 
 
 It became evident to the young men that Parsons 
 was unwilling to have his bride subjected to the dan 
 ger of putting the speed of her horse to the test ; and, 
 in order to call her attention from the playful proposi-
 
 476 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 tion, he rode up close to her side and putting his left 
 hand upon the pommel of her saddle, said to her, that 
 the excitement and merry making of the morning had 
 almost robbed him of the privilege of having any talk 
 with her. 
 
 To any and everything he had to say, for a ride of 
 several miles, she was a willing listener, and there was 
 no race run. 
 
 Nothing of special note occurred during the first 
 part of the day s travel homeward. Mrs. Parsons 
 appeared to be in the very best spirits, and as the 
 p irty jogged along at a leisurely gait, she put in her 
 time, first with one, and then with another of her 
 courtly escorts ; and, by her gayety and good humor 
 helped to enliven the hours that would otherwise have 
 been passed, by some of them at least, in prosy 
 silence. Between the self-imposed duty of trying to 
 keep her convoy from becoming fatigued and lapsing 
 into a spirit of ennui ; and, at the same time, show to 
 her spouse that she was especially happy in her new 
 relation to life, liberty and the unchallenged right to 
 love him, kept her very busy. 
 
 But one stop was made on the way. An acquaint 
 ance and friend of Mrs. Parsons a Mrs. Wade, who 
 lived hard by the road over which the company was 
 traveling, having heard of the elopement ; and, sup 
 posing the party would pass back some time during 
 the day, she had posted a sentinel to intercept them, 
 and bring them to her house for a rest. When the 
 place was reached where the sentinel was stationed, he 
 threw up his danger signal, and a halt was ordered. As 
 soon as Mrs. Wade s message was delivered, it was at
 
 TBE HONEST THIEF . 477 
 
 once decided to accept her invitation, and Prof. 
 Parsons, his wife, and the body-guard rode up to the 
 house and dismounted. 
 
 Mrs. Parsons was most heartily welcomed, and most 
 cordially congratulated by Mrs. Wade, who had herself 
 but very recently married, while Mr. Wade, having 
 been introduced to the bride, and having expressed 
 good wishes and a safe conduit in her life-journey, 
 then turned to the gentlemen to whom he, in turn, was 
 introduced by Mrs. Parsons, and took them in charge. 
 
 This stop and the rest which it furnished was truly 
 enjoyable. Refreshments were brought out, and an 
 hour or more was consumed in partaking of the offered 
 delicacies and in pleasant conversation. Very many 
 questions were asked Mrs. Parsons about the history 
 of her courtship where she found her man what busi. 
 ness he followed how long she had known him 
 where he was from why she had been compelled to 
 leave home to marry, together with divers and sundry 
 other questions pertaining to the same subject. Of 
 course these interrogatories were all propounded to 
 Mrs. Parsons in a quiet, little social chat between her 
 and Mrs. Wade, while Prof. Parsons and his cohort 
 were entertained by Mr. Wade under the shade of the 
 trees in the yard, where such of the company as 
 smoked regaled themselves upon Mr. Wade s nice 
 Havana cigars. 
 
 The time of the rest with these good people and the 
 indulging in the refreshments which were spread before 
 them, seemed to have passed so quickly that the quin 
 tuple body-guard seemed indisposed to quit the place 
 for a resuming of their journey ; and not until they 
 had been notified by Mrs. Parsons that the day
 
 478 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 was waning did they seem to realize that such was the 
 fact, and that they were still so far from their destina 
 tion. With this notification, however, all were soon 
 ready for the move, and while the young gentlemen 
 were busying themselves with the horses, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Wade took occasion to express themselves in terms 
 of highest commendation over the good taste each had 
 evinced in making a choice, and especially to compli 
 ment them for their pluck in flying from the dictum of 
 a cruel injustice. 
 
 " Knowing you as well as I think I do," said Mrs. 
 Parsons to Mrs. Wade, " it could hardly be expected 
 that I would imagine you to be capable of empty flat 
 tery. Any compliment, therefore, which embraces 
 Prof. Parsons as well as myself, I regard as a unitized 
 approbation. He and I have been made one, and any 
 word expressive of a favorable opinion of him thrills 
 me with more delight than the handsomest eulogy 
 would, when bestowed alone upon me. Every word 
 of praise spoken concerning him tends to make 
 me feel more confident in the wisdom of my choice. 
 Please, therefore, acccept the thanks that I offer you 
 both in pride, because of your expressed good opinion 
 of my husband, and believe me, kind friends, when I 
 assure you, in no spirit of sentimental enthusiasm, 
 that he is brighter, better, and more worthy than any 
 one could give him credit for being, unless it be some 
 one who has known how fully he represents the quali 
 ties I have named." 
 
 The horses having been brought to the front, "Mount 
 all ! " shouted Felix Brunnell, and Mrs. Lunata Par 
 sons had to almost tear herself away from Mr. and 
 Mrs. Wade, in obedience to the call of the Captain in,
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 479 
 
 command. Generous, zealous and warm-hearted good 
 wishes were showered upon the newly married pair, as 
 they turned their faces from the Wade home ; and, 
 even as the party rode away, loving adieus and waving 
 handkerchiefs betokened the interest which was felt in 
 the welfare of two people who had not yet completed 
 the preface to their life-history. The first page in that 
 preface, as yet not finished, had commenced with a 
 bright outlining as an introduction, and the aid of all 
 good spirits had been invoked to help to make the 
 lives of Mr. and Mrs. Parsons full of good works. 
 
 As the party rode away from the residence of the 
 Wades, Mrs. Parsons lifted her handkerchief above 
 her head and waved it in a parting salute, and as it 
 fluttered in the breeze, the Wades caught the signal 
 and it was translated as meaning she wore a happy 
 heart. 
 
 On and still on, the party rode. Xo weariness 
 seem to trouble any one of them now. They were 
 returning from a triumphant victory, and as they drew 
 nearer and still nearer to the immediate locality, from 
 which on the previous morning they had fled, and 
 were mounting the gently ascending slope which would 
 bring the-girlhood home of Mrs. Parsons into view, a 
 strange set of sensations seemed to have captured the 
 entire company. A few rods further on, and nestled 
 among the trees in the distance, stood the Rowdon 
 mansion. As the party came in sight of this home, 
 a shadow was thrown athwart the face of the 
 fair young bride, and tears gathered in her bright eyes;, 
 but, thanks to her resolution ! no tear-drop deigned 
 to leave an eye, and her roseate cheek remained un 
 stained by a single signal of sorrow. It was but a 
 passing pang that was all.
 
 480 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 The effect that the sight of her old home would have 
 upon Mrs. Parsons was watched with some degree of 
 interest, by the Professor and his attendants, and when 
 the momentary flush of excitement had been discovered 
 by all, the ride past the old home resembled the muffled 
 tread of a funeral cortege, and there was not one of 
 those gallant attendants who did not feel like doffing 
 his chapeau and riding uncovered, while subdued grief 
 passed the home about which crowded so many hal 
 lowed associations. Each one of them knew it had 
 been the once happy home of her girlhood, and each 
 one recognized as well, that Mrs. Parsons felt, while 
 passing it, that she was now estranged from all her 
 heart once held dear. 
 
 The feeling of sadness soon subsided. It was as 
 transient as the flitting shadow of a drifting cloud; and, 
 as soon as the Rowdon farm had been passed, all again 
 reflected the sunshine of gladness that had been wont 
 to play about the features of her whom Prof. Parsons 
 then claimed as all his own. 
 
 Without making any stop in the town through which 
 he passed, Prof. Parsons went directly to the home of 
 his father, and having presented his bride to the 
 family, said to them, that he had taken her from a 
 home of luxury without the consent of her father, and 
 that the ignorant criticisms of the world might say he 
 had done wrong ; but, as he looked at the matter, with 
 all the attendant circumstances, he had concluded that 
 the world could not drive him from the conviction that 
 he had shown himself to be 
 
 AN HONEST THIEF.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Then come the wild weather come sleet or come snow. 
 We will stand by each other, however it blow : 
 Oppression and sickness, and sorrow and pain, 
 Shall be to our true love, as links to the chain." 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 HE reception which Parsons and his wife met 
 pith, upon reaching the home of his father was 
 [i? a warm-hearted and genuine household greet 
 ing. The whole family vied with each other as 
 to who should be readiest in their kindly attentions. 
 The brothers showed a sympathizing appreciation of 
 the new sister, and were courteously and particularly 
 respectful to her. The mother may have had just 
 a bit of jealousy at the thought of having a stranger 
 to come into the family and engross the affections of 
 her oldest boy, thinking, possibly, that the young 
 bride whom he had brought home would so far monop 
 olize his attention as that he would npglect to bestow 
 upon his mother his usual attention. That mother 
 seemed never to have admitted to herself that there 
 would, perhaps, come a time, in the history of her 
 oldest boy, when there would be awakened in his 
 inmost nature an affection for, and an interest in some 
 fair specimen of womanhood, that would outweigh 
 and be superior to every tie of affection he had ever 
 known yea, more, that would overbalance the bonds 
 of devotional affection which he may have had for all 
 the world beside her.. But, notwithstanding all this, 
 the mother showed her son s wife a true motherly kind 
 ness, and did what she could, in helping to make the 
 daughter-in-law feel at home. 
 
 WHAT NEXT 31.
 
 482 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 Prof. Parsons father seemed to regard the wife of 
 his son as justly entitled to the love and affection he 
 always bestowed upon his own children. The consid 
 erate kindness, therefore, which he was accustomed to 
 accord to the members of his own household he now 
 showed to her, who had become engrafted upon the 
 Parsons stock. 
 
 For several weeks the young married couple remained 
 domiciled in the home of John s father as headquarters, 
 and from there the} sallied forth every now and then to 
 acknowledge invitations winch were sent in from a 
 number of the good people of the county to make 
 them visits ; and, wherever they went, they had a 
 kind of ovation shown them. 
 
 Because of the general characteristics of Mrs. Lunata 
 Parsons, she was popular wherever she was known. 
 Without seeming, in any way, to court the friendship 
 of those with whom she came in contact, she neverthe 
 less gained the admiration and good will of all. The 
 natural fascination which she possessed made her a 
 favorite wherever she was known, and her admirers 
 were only limited by the extent of her acquaintances: 
 
 People of mature years people of settled habits, 
 rather than those of Prof. Parsons age, regarded him 
 as especial!}" meritorious because, as those who knew 
 him well, were accustomed to say of him : he had never 
 sown any crop of wild oats, and consequently did not 
 have to waste any of his young life in gathering a 
 profitless harvest. 
 
 Among the many visits which Parsons and his wife 
 made by special invitation, the one in which, by pre- 
 arrangement, they met the especially dear friend of the 
 new wife, Miss Florence Sumner, was a striking
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 483 
 
 exhibit of the v^ry strong attachment which existed 
 between these two young people. To describe this 
 meeting, so as to give to the reader a faithful picture 
 thereof, would be but to court failure, and I will not 
 attempt it in full. 
 
 Shortly after they met, a decree of banishment was 
 issued against the Professor from the presence of the 
 two ladies said banishment to remain in force for the 
 space of the remainder of the forenoon. Parsons sub 
 mitted without protest, and Florence and her recently 
 wedded friend betook themselves to the seclusion of 
 one of the chambers in the up-stairs department of the 
 house, and talked, and laughed and cried together till 
 both hearts had unburdened the loads of sorrow and 
 gladness which they had longed to pour into each 
 other s ears. 
 
 Poor Florence Sumner ! The history of what passed 
 between her and Lunata Parsons, during the time of 
 the Professor s banishment, must forever remain 
 unwritten ; but, were the whole of it transcribed, 
 neither of the ladies would lose anything in the esti 
 mation of those who admire loyalty to a deep-seated 
 and pure friendship. The love that had existed 
 between these two women, from the days of their 
 childhood, had never had a single blight cast upon its 
 fulness ; and, while it was a sad reflection to her that her 
 devoted friend Lunata had found some one who would 
 so completely absorb her attention as to allow but little 
 time to her, she nevertheless yielded an uncomplain 
 ing acquiescence to what she had done, and warmly 
 complimented her for the choice she had made. 
 
 From Miss Florence Sumner, Mrs. Parsons gathered 
 all the information she desired in regard to what had
 
 484 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 transpired in her home neighborhood since she left it. 
 She had previously heard something of the manner in 
 which her father had accepted the inevitable, when he 
 found that neither ranting nor grumbling would 
 amount to anything. But from Miss Florence, the 
 bride of a week gathered the bulk of the desired news. 
 Miss Sumner had met one of the sisters of Mrs. Par 
 sons, and from her had obtained the news of the 
 family from the time the fact was first broken to her 
 father, about her being missed, up to almost the very 
 time when Florence had started from home to meet 
 and congratulate her friends upon their good luck. 
 
 Through this channel Mrs. Parsons had a kind of 
 pictured glimpse of the confusion and uproarious state 
 of affairs that existed in the Rowdon mansion the 
 morning after it had been discovered that she had 
 eloped. The father, upon having the information 
 broken to him turned pale with rage the aunt turned 
 pale with fright the children, in palor, hid themselves 
 from the storm, and wondered what it all meant, and 
 the servants wore the most innocent and blameless 
 faces imaginable. 
 
 After the temporary madness of Mr. Rowdon had 
 subsided, to some extent, he showed that a fatherly 
 heart still beat in anxious solicitude for his daughter. 
 He remembered that she had been in poor health for 
 some weeks, and therefore expressed some fear that 
 such a jaunt, as she had undertaken, would end in her 
 death. He was so severely riled over the loss of his 
 housekeeper that he roundly berated everybody that he 
 imagined had had anything to do with aiding or abet 
 ting her in her elopement. He applied some very ugly 
 epithets to those who went with the refugees, not yet
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 485 
 
 knowing who they were. In short, he abused every 
 body who was, as he thought in any way, directly or 
 indirectly, connected with what he termed treasonably 
 doing violence to the peace and quiet of his house 
 hold. 
 
 When Miss Sumner informed Prof Parsons that Mr. 
 Rowdon had said some very harsh and unwarranted 
 things about him, the information did not disturb him 
 in the least. He told Miss Florence that anything he 
 might now say, would be considered justifiable. He 
 had been robbed his house had been plundered it 
 had been despoiled of its brightest jewel, and the loss 
 was irreparable. " Let him talk. If it were possible 
 that my position and his were reversed, and I should 
 have been made the loser to the extent he has been, I 
 think I would shout out my disapprobation, over my 
 loss, just as loud as he has done. Let him talk ; he 
 is mad now, and his ill temper may, for ought I know, 
 run through a cycle of years. Be it so ; I will never 
 murmur over any complaint he may urge against me, 
 so long as he says nothing against my moral character, 
 and will try .to prove to him that I am not only worthy 
 of his confidence, but worthy of his daughter as 
 well." 
 
 " So far as what you have said about his becoming 
 alienated from his neighbors, Miss Summer, I can say 
 to you that no one, under similar circumstances, could 
 more deeply deplore this fact than I do. The long 
 standing friendship that has existed between his 
 family and your father s, was far too sacred to be 
 destroyed by a mere supposition, and yet I can see no 
 way by which that unfounded prejudice can be 
 removed. To show you how very seriously my wife
 
 486 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 considered the matter of bringing about a .severance of 
 the ties of neighborly friendship, I can say, that while 
 she would have been delighted to have had your com- 
 pany on her runaway trip, she determined to forego 
 that pleasure rather than create an open rupture 
 between her father and \ r our family. As the affair 
 eventuated, however, it would have been just as well 
 that you should have gone, for your going could not 
 have made matters any worse, than did his imagined 
 grievance. 
 
 " Well," said Prof. Parsons, still addressing himself 
 to Miss Sumner, " since we are upon the subject of 
 neighborhood news, can you not tell us something 
 about the Watsons and about Aurelius Munson?" 
 
 Yes, I think a can," replied Miss Sumner. "I 
 am not at all intimate with the Watson family ; still, 
 I have learned enough to satisfy me that no people in 
 our whole community were more completely surprised 
 over your marriage, and the manner in which you 
 managed to get away, than were the Watsons. From 
 what I heard some weeks ago, I had supposed that 
 the Watson family would be about the only persons in 
 the community who would sympathize with Mr. Row- 
 don ; but, very recent information has corrected this 
 opinion. I now understand that there are no people 
 in the vicinity who are more heartily rejoicing over 
 your triumph than are the Watsons, and I learn that 
 Miss Ida Watson is especially outspoken in her glad 
 commendation of the choice your wife has made. By 
 the way, I learn also, that, while nearly all of that 
 family, from some cause, had become very much 
 prejudiced against you, that Miss Ida never w r as, but 
 justified you in every case where there was a manifes-
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 487 
 
 tation of family displeasure, and that when the crisis 
 came that necessitated your removal from their home 
 as a boarding-house, Miss Ida had the courage to even 
 condemn her father for the course he had pursued, and 
 to tell him to his face, that the day was not far dis 
 tant when he would discover that he had made a big 
 mistake." 
 
 "Do you know anything, Miss Sumner, about Alf. 
 Watson, the eldest son of the Watsons ? I am just a 
 little interested in him. In the early part of my court 
 ship he made himself quite conspicuous as an 
 employed emissary of Mr. Rowdon s to keep watch of 
 my tracks, and to make reports at stated periods. 
 What has become of him ?" 
 
 "Really, Prof. Parsons," said Miss Sumner, "I 
 hardly know how to answer your question. Alf. Watson 
 is a man whom I know when I see him, but about 
 whose whereabouts I care as little as I do about any 
 man you could name. He is regarded, I think, as 
 having but little reputation for uprightness no educa 
 tion, and a minimum allowance of common sense. I 
 understand he has left the neighborhood, but to 
 what point of the compass he has emigrated I am 
 unable to say. I have heard some of the young men 
 in this vicinity laughing over his withdrawing himself 
 from the spy service of Mr. Rowdon in consequence of 
 some holes and pins which he found in a board lhat 
 was attached to a tree which stood in a ravine not a 
 great way from where his father lives. What these 
 young men meant, in what they said, I do not know, 
 as I thought too little of Alf. Watson to ask what their 
 remarks meant. "
 
 488 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 "I suppose, Miss Sumner," said Parsons, "that 
 the excitement in your neighborhood, incident to the 
 bit of thievery I have perpetrated, is subsiding?" 
 
 "To some extent, it is," replied Miss Sumner, "and 
 but for the secret rejoicing that is indulged in, by 
 both old and young, I think the talk about the affair 
 would have ceased. If it had been a case about which 
 the people of the community could have expressed 
 themselves freely and fearlessly, it would have rocked 
 itself to rest before now ; but, it is like the suppres 
 sion of laughter, the more it is suppressed, the longer 
 it will rattle and struggle for outlet. No one wanted to 
 incur the displeasure of Mr. Rowdon, and hence secret 
 criticisms were indulged in, long beyond the time 
 which a free discussion would have demanded. 
 
 "Well, you have not told me anything about Mr. 
 Munson," said Parsons. " What about him ? When I 
 last heard from him, he had entered upon the very 
 difficult task of convert-making through the efficacy of 
 epistolary correspondence. I am disposed to think 
 that his effort in attempting to work out by letter what 
 he could not accomplish by personal appeals, was 
 really a worse mistake than the running advertisement 
 which he so long published to the community by keep 
 ing his tri-weekh- horse-hitching a prominent frontis 
 piece to the Rowdon home." 
 
 To this question, and its appended speech, Miss 
 Sumner laughed heartily, and after her risibility had 
 been quelled, she answered the Professor s question, 
 saying : "I have not seen Mr. Munson, to have any 
 conversation with him since your marriage, and am 
 rather glad that I have not met him. I understand 
 he feels exceedingly sore under the result of your vie-
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 489 
 
 tory. I can not say that he is sore because of his 
 defeat ; for, to my own personal knowledge, his defeat 
 has been assured ever since he first intimated that he 
 wanted to be considered a suitor for the hand of your 
 wife. I understand he now disclaims having ever 
 had any idea of courting Lunata that his visits to 
 her were only for the purpose of pastime ; but, try as 
 he might, Professor, the tri-weekly hitching of that 
 horse to that self same post will boldly and defiantly 
 contradict any statement he may make in regard to his 
 visits being only those of friendship. The fact is, if 
 he were to make such a statement to me, I would hunt 
 up a copy of Esop s Fables, and point out for him 
 what that philosopher had to say about the fox and 
 the grapes. The time of Aurelius Munson, when he 
 is in company, as I have understood, is divided 
 between trying to explain away the general belief that 
 he had ever addressed your wife, with a view to mar 
 riage, and a persistent effort to show ; that, in marry 
 ing you, she had driven her ducks to an exceedingly 
 bad market. He can find, he says, and count them 
 on his fingers, a great number of flaws in your general 
 make up. He summarizes about thus : First, you 
 are poor. Second, you have not got anything. Third, 
 your family is poor. Fourth, you have no rich relatives, 
 and fifth, you have no home. Munson assumes quite 
 an air of importance while counting out these five 
 specific reasons why he thinks your wife, as he says, 
 might have gone further and have done better. 
 
 "Should you happen to be thrown in his company, 
 within the next few weeks, fMiss Sumner, I would 
 like to have you call him out upon his bill of excep 
 tions; and, w r hen he has filed them in your presence, I
 
 490 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 would like to have you inform him that you heard me 
 plead guilty to the whole five charges, and then get 
 him to explain the difference hetween tweedledum and 
 tweedledee. Tell him furthermore that you heard 
 me state, that, though I might be ever so poor, I 
 was at least rich enough in something which he did 
 not possess, to win a prize about which he was giving 
 himself a great deal of unnecessary trouble." 
 
 "I Presume, Prof. Parsons." replied Miss Summer, 
 "that he is not alone in his embitterecHeelings. Some 
 of his relations, I understand, have indulged in some 
 very ugly criticisms with reference to the course your 
 wife pursued, in running off to be married. I think 
 they are almost as much piqued over his defeat as 
 is Aurelius himself." 
 
 "All this amounts to nothing, Miss Summer. Any 
 thing thatMunson or his relatives may say about me or 
 my wife, will be regarded by all sensible people, as 
 only the empty vaporings of boastful ignorance. What 
 they predict with reference to my future, will be but 
 an advertisement of their own chagrin and disappointed 
 ambition." 
 
 This conversation took place between Miss Florence 
 Summer and Prof. Parsons, while Mrs. Parsons was 
 enjoying a quiet little sul> rosa confab in an adjoining 
 room, with Mrs. Nilson the lady of whose hospitality 
 the bride and groom and Miss Sumnei? were made the 
 recipients. When the quartette consisting of the 
 three women and Prof. Parsons, came together again, 
 there was a general summing up, by Mrs. Nilson and 
 Miss Summer, of all that the gossipers had had to say, 
 in regard to the runaway match and marriage of the 
 the two people who were the listeners to that pre-
 
 THE HONEST THIEF 491 
 
 sentation of what the outside world was saying 
 about their particular case, and of the expressions of 
 praise and blame of stolen brides generally. 
 
 The visit to Mrs. Nilson being about the last in the 
 list of invitations tendered and accepted by the young 
 married couple, they returned to the home of Mr. Par 
 sons, Sr. 
 
 The excitement and jollity incident to a round of 
 visiting having ended, the young Professor and his 
 wife bethought them that marrying meant more than a 
 mere living, and that it was about time he was seeking 
 some position where he could feel free because of his 
 working to win an independent livelihood. Accordingly 
 on the following morning he went to the neighboring 
 town, and had been in the place but a short time when 
 a wealthy gentleman from an adjoining county, having 
 learned that his services as a teacher could be secured, 
 at once closed a contract with him, to take charge of 
 the school in his neighborhood without consulting 
 either trustees or patrons, and agreed to take the Pro 
 fessor and his wife into his own family as boarders. 
 
 During the following week Parsons and his wife took 
 up their residence in the family of Mr. Burton, and on 
 the Monday succeeding, he began his work as a bread 
 winner, at a very fair salary. 
 
 It was not long after the marriage of Prof. Parsons 
 to the daughter of Mr. Rowdon till the father became 
 reconciled to the choice which his daughter had made, 
 and invited the pair home. It had been predicted by 
 many, that, owing to the stubbornness of his nature, 
 he would never become friendly with Parsons. He 
 might, manj" thought, forgive his daughter, but that 
 he would be irreconcilable so far as his ever becoming
 
 492 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 friendly with Parsons was concerned. But in this, 
 there was a manifest error of human judgment. Mr. 
 Rowdon, notwithstanding his mistake in trying to 
 mold the mind and affections of his daughter into his 
 way of thinking, was, nevertheles, devoted to her. 
 She had been both an affectionate and dutiful child, 
 and the alienation which existed between her father 
 and her husband had come to be a source of deep and 
 continuous grief to her. That she should have been 
 overjoyed at the reconciliation was something to be 
 expected. After this, she felt that she could love her 
 father as she had loved him in the days of yore, and 
 that what she returned to him would, in no way, lessen 
 the love and admiration which she had for her 
 husband. 
 
 It was not long till Mr. Rowdon had discovered his 
 mistake, in denying to his daughter the privilege of 
 choosing her own life compainion, and, while he hoped 
 he might succeed, he still lacked faith in his ability to 
 accumulate money, but was still satisfied, because he 
 recognized it as a fact that the young Professor was the 
 choice of the daughter whom he loved. 
 
 Parsons abandoned the school which he undertook 
 in a short time after his marriage, on account of the ill- 
 health of his wife, and remained comparatively inac 
 tive until his wife regained her health. The two then 
 moved to another part of the .State and began an 
 earnest life-work. They were successful. Their enter 
 prise prospered in their hands; and, as is usually the 
 case with honest effort patient and persevering indus 
 try, coupled with suavity of manner their popularity 
 was largely commensurate with their prosperity.
 
 TBE HONEST THIEF 493 
 
 Kind reader, the scenes and incidents, recorded so 
 far in this volume, fill up a comparatively brief period 
 in the history of two individuals, and occurred a half 
 century ago. Nearly two generations have been swept 
 from the stage* of human action, since John Parsons 
 and Lunata Rowdon had their love entanglements, and 
 those entanglements, which had their beginning and 
 their ending so long ago, serve even now to show, that 
 what was true then must be true now, because, what 
 occurred in their case was, and is, in harmony with the 
 eternal principles of right. Genuine worth and unim 
 peachable honesty, coupled with acquired, as well as 
 natural brightness, make the possessor thereof the 
 impersonation of intrinsic wealth wealth which can 
 not take to itself wings and fly away wealth which 
 can not perish with the using wealth which can not 
 be destroyed by the mishaps of speculation or be 
 corroded by age wealth which can not die ; for, quit 
 ting the earth, it will shine with the passing eons, in 
 brightness upon the heights of everlasting light. 
 
 I have made myself acquainted, to a large extent, 
 with the events that transpired in the early part of the 
 lives of the two people who are in the role of hero and 
 heroine to this volume. In weaving my story I have 
 made true history the warp, and romance the woof 
 thereof. I have woven it, not so much to please the 
 critical reader, as for self-gratification. That the faults 
 which it contains are too numerous, I am candid 
 enough to admit, but that my motive, in writing it, 
 was anything else than good, I would deny. There is 
 no desire on my part to plead that, under ordinary cir 
 cumstances, insubordination to parental authority could 
 be justified, but at the same time I desire, in the pre-
 
 494 WHAT NEXT? OB 
 
 sentation of an extraordinary case, to show that there 
 is justification in rebelling against the cruel edicts of 
 avaricious parents, who for the sake of property or 
 money, would sacrifice thereto the peace and happiness 
 of their daughters. 
 
 Unfortunately, the trend of sentiment among the 
 young people of the present day is, that rebellion 
 against parental advice is even commendable, as indi 
 cating a spirit of independence. Another unfortunate 
 circumstance in connection with the marriages of the 
 present day, is that so many of these assumed obliga 
 tions are robbed of their sacredness by making them 
 mere matters of bargain and sale, taking it for granted 
 that money will cover a greater multitude of faults than 
 charity. Again; there is entirely too great a preva 
 lence of lorming matrimonial alliances, without weigh 
 ing the responsibility and obligations that connect 
 themselves with the changed relations of life. Out of 
 the mere sham of trying to have the affections consort 
 with wealth, and the inconsiderate action which leads 
 to marriage in haste and repentance at leisure," has 
 grown the vast amount of work which is being done 
 by our courts of judicature in untying connubial knots 
 which had been tied for parties who looked upon mar 
 riage as a very trivial affair a something which could 
 be assumed today and cast off tomorrow. In fact, so 
 many marriages are speedily followed by divorces, 
 and speedy re-marriages that it seems to have 
 cast a blur upon the sacred rite. It is a sad 
 phillipic upon the history of our people to say that 
 such a condition of affairs is growing in our country. 
 But may it not be contemplated as a serious fact, never 
 theless a race dishonoring fact one that proclaims
 
 THE HONEST T.ilEF. 495 
 
 the solemn truth, that the first steps are being taken 
 that lead in the direction of the accursed doctrine of 
 free love-ism? 
 
 It is not my intention, however, to drift into expres 
 sions of censoriousness over what may appear to me to 
 be a deteriorating condition of human society. Ani 
 madversions upon my part, in regard to such degener 
 ating influences, would have but little weight in 
 staying its march. If checked at all, the power of both 
 press and pulpit must open their batteries against the 
 growing evil. 
 
 As has already been stated, I familiarized myself 
 with the lives of Prof. Parsons and his wife previous to 
 their marriage, and have looked in upon those lives 
 since, that I might be able to present at least one 
 isolated case in which justification could be plead 
 for direct and daring disobedience to parental authority. 
 As to whether I have succeeded or not, be you the 
 judge. But, be your judgement what it may, I pre 
 sume that if John Parsons had been put upon the 
 witness stand, on any day of the half century of days 
 that have passed since the events recorded in this 
 book began, and had been questioned in regard 
 to the moral quality of his action, in marrying his wife 
 as he did, he would have stoutly averred that the de 
 file into which he was driven, brought about a 
 question of ownership, looked at from a moral stand 
 point, which robbed his act of the quality of a felony, 
 and christened him 
 
 Ax HONEST THIEF.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Having given an epitome of the early life of Mr. 
 John Parsons and his wife Mrs. Lunata Parsons. I feel 
 that this story would be incomplete without men 
 tioning something of their history that stretched 
 along through the half century that has elapsed since 
 they first started in their matrimonial career. 
 
 Through many years of unremitting toil in the voca 
 tion to which Prof. Parsons consecrated himself as his 
 life-work, and of which he made a success ; his popu 
 larity and that of his wife grew to. be commensurate 
 with the largest part of our great and growing Republic. 
 In fact it is said that go where you will, and in every 
 section of our Union, you will find families in which 
 the name of Mrs. Parsons is a kind of household 
 word. 
 
 The weight of years finally made it indispensable 
 for them to retire from the field of active work and 
 relinquish their labor of love. But up to the present 
 writing, although they have grown old, they are 
 both hale and heart} , and seem to have the promise of 
 some years yet to come. While they linger upon 
 the shores of time, however, and while their heads are 
 blossoming for the fruitage of eternity, they are not 
 the only ones in whom, and on whom, the finger of 
 time has written its changes. Since the night of that 
 long and tiresome ride, about which they have told 
 me, in quest of some one to tie a knot which would 
 make them one, the grim reaper has not been idle.
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 497 
 
 Mr. Henry RoAvdon lived to be quite old, and of all 
 the members of his family, there was no one of them 
 for whom he cherished a tenderer affection than he did 
 for his daughter Lunata; and to none of his grand 
 children did he seem to be more attached than he did 
 to those of Prof. Parsons. 
 
 Of those who were the dramatis personae in the 
 little life comedy, in which Prof. Parsons and Miss 
 Lunata Rowdon were the stars in the cast, and of 
 whose performance this book is the history ; the major 
 ity have long since retired behind the screen, beyond 
 which human eyes peer not. Those who were then 
 young have grown old, and their tramp, tramp, along 
 the shores of time, show, by their slow and measured 
 tread, that they, too, will soon find rest in the bivouac 
 of the dead. 
 
 John Parsons plighted vows, although made in the 
 long, long ago, I suppose have been most religiously 
 kept even up the present writing. He still claims, I 
 understand, that other women may have awakened to 
 a very high degree, his admiration, but that his wife 
 is the only woman he ever really loved. He claims 
 she was the idol of his youthful soul the admiration 
 of his ripened manhood, and is the solace and comfort 
 of his declining years. I verily believe this is the 
 living sentiment of his soul ; for, a mutual friend 
 havng learned that I was writing something of his 
 history, brought me Mrs. Parsons album and I copied 
 the following little poem written therein by the gray- 
 haired lover: 
 
 WHAT NEXT 33.
 
 498 WHAT NEXT? OR 
 
 OUR LIFE PERIODS. 
 
 1S50. 
 
 When we were young in life s springtime, 
 Thou gav st thy heart and hand to me; 
 And I, mid clouds or glad sunshine, 
 Declared I d e er be true to thee. 
 Now my remembrance still holds dear, 
 That time, when youthful ardor wove 
 Its brightest hopes, and happy cheer 
 And love and gladdess with us throve. 
 Those days, in mem ry still enshrined 
 When flowers in our springtime grew, 
 We passed delighted intertwined 
 With hearts aglow, both me and you. 
 
 1865. 
 
 But, by and by, life s summer came, 
 With flowers bright still round us spread- 
 No quenching had subdued the flame 
 AVhich burned in hearts so truly wed. 
 The cherry, joyous summer time. 
 When everything with brightning glow 
 Made life s true living, mine and thine, 
 With constant rapture overflow. 
 What though distresses, now and then 
 Left mem ries dark with you and me 
 There was no time when you could ken, 
 This heart was not e er true to thee 
 
 1880. 
 
 Life s autum came, and in its train, 
 The fruitage of our labor won ; 
 And, like the sheaves of ripened grain, 
 It showed the work which we had done. 
 Our hands were neither sore nor scarred 
 Love s labor never gave us pain. 
 We toiled along without regard 
 To wear and tear or mental strain ; 
 But life was neither brown nor sere 
 For love was still both fresh and free ; 
 It gave to each sweet words of cheer, 
 While I could say, "I still love thee."
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 499 
 
 1896. 
 
 The wintry blasts now round us strew 
 Their icy trophies at our feet, 
 And while we older, older grow 
 Our winter is with love replete. 
 This is the time to ponder o er . 
 The devious path that we have trod, 
 And Him who leads us still adore, 
 Yes, still adore while on we plod. 
 Ah ! this is e en the royal time 
 To turn, in retrospect, and see 
 The rugged paths we ve had to climb, 
 With love the guide for you and me. 
 
 1897. 
 
 Our springtime has long, long been o er, 
 Its leaves of brightness all are gone 
 We ll see the flowers never more, 
 In summer flower-time round us thrown. 
 The joy% which these bright seasons gave, 
 With all their wealth of beauty rare, 
 We ll on our mem ries them engrave 
 For you and me to treasure there. 
 The autumn s past tis winter now 
 From work on earth w ll soon be free; 
 But ere we re called away, I vow. 
 When Heaven is reached I ll still love thee. 
 
 1898. 
 
 And as the heavenly eons go, 
 
 Unmeasured by the flight of years, 
 
 We ll never more of sorrow know 
 
 Nor have our eyes bedimmed by tears. 
 
 In regions of eternal day, 
 
 Where grief and death are known no more, 
 
 Where life, renewed, knows no decay 
 
 When once we ve reached that glorious shore, 
 
 In Paradise, mid endless joy 
 
 Sublimer love will God adore 
 
 Sublimer praise our time employ. 
 
 Forever and forevermore.
 
 What Next? 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE HONEST THIEF. 
 
 By J. T. PATTERSON. 
 
 A combination of fact and fancy, portraying life 
 in Kentucky fifty years ago. Its author is favor 
 ably known to thousands in this and other States 
 as the honored President for many years of 
 Hamilton Female College. Every woman who 
 was once under the tutelage, or whose mother, 
 sister or daughter has been helped by this great 
 educator will read it with delight. 
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