WOOED BUT NOT WON.

Marlborough Daily Times, Volume II, Issue 157, 21 September 1880, Page 4

WOOED BUT NOT WON.

Silver Pen, in the Auckland Herald gives the following story among her rechaulle of America gossip; - Here is a charming litttle story about one of our Nob Hill dames, which, woman-like, I take pleasure in relating as she is on e of those rich stuck-up, illiberal persons who deserve to be taken down a peg. She is not young, nor is .she fair, hut oh, how rich. It fills the soul of apoor woman with anguish to think upon the useless millions that lie in her coffers, and do you think she would stretch forth her hand and save a perishing family from want! Not she! Well, there are two gentlemen in this city, friends in all things, poverty not o nitted, who are in fact, so impecuious that their wits have become considerably sharpened by the fact. Look ing at the widows, millions from afar with hungry eyes, these two, whom I

will call Castor and Pollux, concocted a well-arranged plain in which both were to figure. One was to win and wed the lady. The other, as an accomplice in tho matter, was to share the spoil. Mrs —went to the country for a week or so lately, and one afternoon hiring the only chaise the place owned she went forth to air her wits and her not yet discarded weeds. The driver, resembling the chaise and horse, was old and slow, therefore, when a wild-looking figure, with unkempt lock and wild gestures broke forth from a hedge, and seized the horse’s head, he (the Jehu) slipped from his seat and made tracks for home. ’The lunatic, for so he seemed, mounted the box, and drove the old lady at a somewhat increased speed, acting in such a manner as almost to dethrone Madame’s reason, but instead of which she fainted. As she came to, the madman tells her he has escaped from the asylum and is driving her to the devil. At this moment Castor comes upon the scene from out a neighboring bit of bush. Mrs

screams for help; and gallant Castor wrestles with the madman, throwing him outof bis seatand springing therein himself. By the widow’s side he now assuages her terrors, and to make a long story short, after wooing the impressible old lady for a week, because her accepted husband, and t-lion be came to town. The night of his arrival be wrote two letters which explain themselves, and which got into the newspapers by one of those miracles that are always being worked by the reporters in this city of sensations. ‘My own heart’s darling, —I promised to write as soon as I reached home, but my soul is too full of joy for utterance. When I remember that in three short weeks I shall call you wife, my happiness is so great that I can find nothing else to write or think about. Pardon me, therefore, my own lovev dovey, if I write no more this evening. I must go to bed and dream of you, as I fondly hope vou will dream of your adorer.

Castor.’ This was the letter received by Pollux at Santa Cruz, where he was stoping until Castor had accomplished his purpose. Mrs received the following on the same day:

—‘Mr dear fellow—-I have hooked the old girl splendidly, and am going to marry her money-bags in three weeks. You played your part magnificently, I really thought you had gone mad when I saw you drive up the road. Your get-up was perfect, and I owe you an apology for nearly pulling off your false heard in the struggle. If the old fool of a widow had not been blind with terror, all would have been discovered. Best assured you share the plunder as per agreement as soon as I get a marital right to put my hand in the old lady’s pocket. I guess it’s quite safe for you to return to town now, so come up and congratulate—Castor.’ Poor Castor, like Buttercup, had mixed things up. The end was disastrous, and the widow is still in the market.