A COMEDY OF BLUNDERS

Auckland Star, Volume II, Issue 476, 20 July 1871, Page 2

A COMEDY OF BLUNDERS

A. HAPPY EXCHANGE OP BBIDES, AND NO

BOBBBBT. The first time I found out I was in love with my cousin Edie, was the morning fixed for my wedding with another young lady. The discovery came rather awkwardly ; for there was my bride, Miss Euphemia Garlick, getting ready for the ceremony ; and there, at her father's house, was the wedding breakfast all prepared. The discovery happened in this wise : I had *>een very nervous over the operation of dressing. In the first place, I had never been married before; secondly, I did not care profoundly for my bride. She was my senior by some seven years, and tall and bony for her age. She could not be described as youthful, or as graceful, or as sportive. There was little of the lamb nature about her —except her associations with the Mint. For Miss Euphemia was rich, and I was poor and overwhelmed with debt; wherefore I had pressed my suit with the heiress, and had found both herself acd her father, an infatuated old noodle, with an amateur taste for chemistry, propitiated by the sacrifice. On. the morning of my wedding I had, out of sheer "nervousness, rumpled most of my clown shirts and ruined most of my clean collars, in agitated attempts to dress myself. As a crowning piece of ill luck, I burst the neck button-hole of my last shirt. There was no time to send out for •a new one ; the marriage hour was close at hand. I bethought myself of cousin Edie, then arraying herself in the house—cousin Edie with whom I had grown tip and whom I regarded as a gentle sister. Edie would of course repair the slit but-ton-hole. Accordingly Edie came with work-box nnd needle and thread; and I knelt liclore her is she sat; and Edie's fingers were busy about my throat; and a1 curious wpcculntjvc discovery came upon me thai E<Ho wa< young and pretty, aud plump , and gentle, and in all respects dissimilar to ,VJ iss {'"uphemia Garlick.

" Have you ever done this sort ofthiDg before ?"

Edic confessed she had—for her father. I began to put silly questions to Edie— about levers and so forth. I was privileged to do so, as a cousin. She replied to me laughingly, but repudiated all soft charges, i lien 1 ventured to kiss Edie-r' also as a cousin. And then, as Kdie ran out of the room to get a pair of scissors,-I began to think she was really very plump, and had a velvety ski;i, and was as guileless in the world's ways as a chubby cherub by iieubens. ; .■ In this mood I lighted on the work-box she had left, and began to turn over'its contents. White bits of cotton, spotless as Edio's conscience! Black bits of cotton, sombre as my future! Thimble, hollow and empty as ray head when I overlooked Kdio as a possible wife ! But then. Edie was as poor ns myself, whereas Miss Garlielc—hallo, what v.- ; <s tbis?

I came upon a letter in that wort-box— na open letter commencing, "Star of my hopeless destiny.!" A letter in a man's handwriting, and full of bad spelling. And. hisi shaniclrgs document went on to speak of love passaged in the past; of asaigoiiliohftj" u!hlim- conscious stars," as the wiit'i- phrased it; of kisses given and .exchanged. The iuuoeent-seemingcousin of mine was not so guileless as she appeared. Sho had been guilty of philandering, and that with a fellow—as I saw by the si^n»turc--known to my bride's family. For this Augustus Maunders, whose writing it was, I knew as a mooning booby in the army —a romantic milksop with colorless hair, and so intimate with the Garlioks as even to bo invited to tho wedding. I was horribly indignant at Edio's duplici'y, and at her choosing such, a lover for her clandestine flirtations. When she came back with, tbe scissors I taxed her roundly with her fault and showed her the letter. She started, and seemed inclined to deny the charge.but immediately took refuge iv silence. I set off for church in a very bad humorj convinced that I had a rather perilous interest in Edie, and resolved to accommodate my conscience by " taking it out" of Mr. Maiiudersy even if by forcing him to declare his intentions, I precipitated his marraige with my too pretty cousin.

'1 ho party hut! not arrived at church, but Garlick's house was within a stone's throw of it. In my vexation I would not wiit, I iiitdo for the house and met them in tlie. lol.by, the carriages at tho door. There was the perfidious Augustus Maun? ders anvng them, ■ ■ ■ ; . -. I greeted not. my stalely bride; I stalked up to Lieutenant Maunders. " Sir !" 1 thundered, " I know all." ■ • > The lieutenant gazed at me feebly; Miss Gal-lick clapped her hands; her father, an habitualdotart, simply blinked bis eyes, as he dM under .all circumstances which passe.l. his comprehension: and as most worldly circumstances did pass his comprehension, always excepting the combination of metals and gases, I payed little attention to Mm.

'' Don't attemx't to deny it, Mn Jfaunders," I added sternlyV'rbavo'discover- ']M ed one^ l/I.yuUr notes in awork-bjyse" — ~*~ "" To^2Sa2sia«yrtfiißr©arlick gave a shriek and fell into a hall chair apparently | lifeless. JSo sooner did her idotic parent ;\.'. behold the spectacle, than 7ie, too, uttered a prolonged howl, and fell on the mat. " Oh, my pa! my pa!" cried Euphcmia, reviving suddenly. "He cannot Dear excitement ';'■' it flies to his head! Help! help! save him <rom extinction!" Hushing to the old man's head (Imado a demoniacal desiro to sit down on it, as they do to horses), I called for water. A I servant brought a tumbler full. Mean- C while, I had found in his waistcoat jpooket | a phial of colorless liquid. 1 "A, tonic or stimulant," I thought, and' . J hurriedly emptying it into a glass of water,, « poured the whole down his throat. It :. had an awesome effect. The old man nearly started to his feet, struggled, kicked out, spluttered, foamed, and fell back, stiff and insensible. " What have I done P" I gasped. - ?-< i- < "You have poisoned-the old man,-sir," he remarked quietly. The label' says ' prussic acid.'" ' ■ ■ . i A cloudy horror seemed to close upon'; me. Everybody set up a shrieking. Miss prarlick went out of one fit of hysterics into another. A. vision of cousin Edie amonp; the flitting 'phantoms around me" % a vision of Maunders supporting my bride, and, hs it see mod to my .disordered fanoyi ■ kissing her; and I remember nothing more till I found myself in the hands of the polioe charged withnmrder. * >*,- %

I had made up my mind to go to execution confessing nothing. On the whole, I preferred hanging to the chance of marrying Euphemia Garlick, now that I had found out how dear and how faithless was Edio Many men would have married out of spite, under such circumstances ; butt to me it seemed I should spite myself mj'fit in so doing. JK was glad at the prospect of being •■ ' lged; but it turned out that old Garlick . | 5 not dead. The prussic acid had been \fis own preparation ;it was insufferably nasty, causing him immense pain, but was not a bit genuine. He recovered, and himself procured my release, on condition that the marriage should at once proceed. I groaned in spirit, for the'alternative was worse than death.

A gaiu the happy fates stepped in. ¥. iss Eupheruia, whose nerves had been terribly shaken, confessed all. It was told to her that the compromising letter Lad been written; it was she who had philandered with the booby Maunders; it was her own work-box which had contained the damaging document. She had made over her work-box as a present to Edie on the eve of her wedding—made it over as it stood, forgetting the one article it held. Edie had not explored its contents; but when she saw the letter in my bands she anticipated tragic resttlts if I should guess the truth, and held her peace. She even suffered herself to be wrongly accused for my sake and my bride's. Poor Edie!

I undeceived her. I showed her that my heart was unbroken by Euphemia's duplicity. I transfered my bride to Maunders, and trot her father's consent. And then I spoke seriously to Kdie, and from our talk have reason to believe that tho day when Miss Jiuphemia (Jarliek becomes Mrs. Maunders, Edie and I may swell the parish register.— Tom Hood's Comic Annual.