THE LOST BRIDAL GIFT.

Tuapeka Times, Volume VII, Issue 406, 7 November 1874, Page 5

THE LOST BRIDAL GIFT.

(From the "Argosy") "It is very nice to be married and settled in a house of one's own !" So spoke young Mrs Clinton, the first week she was settled in hers. Her husband, a struggling young lawyer, whose office was in the heart of the quiet country village that had been the home always of both of them, was away at the said office, and the young wife was alone. Neither of them was overburthened with this world's goods. But they had resolved to marry and struggle along together, rather than wait apart until they were old and rich. He would strive to steadily make moneys she to be economical and saving at homo, and so make both ends meet. It might not be amiss if some. other young ladies and gentlemen of the present day tried the same. Tom Clinton took his wife home; and hpro she was, setting about her duties with a good heart, and intending to become the most active little housewife in the world. Of course she began by superintending the cookery; the young maid seemed good for nothing but to make beds, and stare at her pretty new mistress. Such meal ! Such dainty little dishes put upon the table, made up after the best receipts j in tiio n( w cookery book ! Why is it j that these said cookery books tell so ; little compared with what they might ? They ruu after this fashion; — "To coolc salmon. Boil it till it's done. Serve with lobster sauce and sliced cucumber." " Good gracious !" cried poor Mrs Clinton, " I wonder how long it must be boiled ; and whether it would be put into cold or hot water. ' Neither maid nor mistress knew. But difficulties are soon surmounted when hearts and hands are willing. Sometimes, though, the young wife caught herself wishing that she and Tom had rather more ready money. Very active was she ; untiring, and full of hope and spirits. All the best of the furniture she dusted herself, and then there was no fear that their pretty ornaments and presents would get broken. One piece of their rather small stock of furniture was an old bureau, or rather bureau and desk combined, which was filled with small drawers, pigeon-holes, &. This had belonged to Tom Clinton's grandfather, and was handed down to Tom as an heirloom Eunice Glinton had looked through it every day since she came home, and yet found something to admire and wonder over. For she liked those capacious- old things of carved oalr, which must have been valuable in their day, if old-fashioned now. Tom had shown her two secret receptacles for papers, placed beneath the small drawers ; and one day Eunice found a prize. She bad taken out a remote drawer for the purpose of dusting it, when she noticed a small drawer yet behind it. Of course she opened this at once, and there found, wrapped in a piece of old yellow paper, a silver watch. It was very old and battered, the hands were'broken off, and it had no gl.ass. She took it up and shook it, but it did not tick in answer to the shake, as, no doubt; a well regulated watch ought to do ; it ! only rattled, as though the inside works wer£ all loose and broken. She tried to opTsn it, and got the outer case off without trouble ; but the watch itself resisted all her efforts. It seemed never to have had an opening yet. >' How was it Tom had never found this, she wondered. But Tom Clinton had nc genius for exploring old places as she had. The probability was, Tom had never looked thoroughly into it since the piece of furniture came to him ; and, besides, Tom could never see. a thing though it stared him in the face. How she wished Tom had been at home when she found thiß watch ! It would be so long to wait until dinner time. How she°would plague him ! To be sure, it was no treasure such as she Lad read of, concealed in just such places — nothing but an old turnip-shaped, silver, or perhaps a pewter watch. Eunice quited the watch and the bureau, and went singing about the house for an hour or so, trying hard not to feel dull ; but the day appeared unusually long. She had no sewing I o Jo — young wives seldom have ; and ste wished again that the hours would, pass and dinner-time come. Looking from the window, ehe espied a pedlar with a monstrous pack od his back

coming up the village street. Now, did you ever know a woman who did not deal* with a pedlar if she had a sly chance ? At any rate, Mrs. Cliuton, so much at a loss what to do with her time that day, did not Bend him away when he came to the door. Sarah wanted some new colored aprons, and perhaps he had just the print that would suit. Pedlars in country districts are no uncommon visitors, and are altogether . unknown in superior houses. The pedlar was allowed to enter the small neat dining room ; and soon every chair it contained was covered with articles from the pack. The more Mrs. Clinton told the man sho did not want to see these things the more of them he kept spreading out. Our young housekeeper was sorely tried. She had very little money in the house, and well she knew Tom's purse was low just now. She took two aprons for Sarah, and a neat handkerchief that was cheap ; and no more. The polite pedlar talked and flattered all iv vain ; Eunice waa firm, she must not think of those pink ribbons, that fine neat chintz. Oh, how sbe did wish for plenty of money ! She could not bear to see him folding up all* those pretty things, " and so cheap too." As the pedlar, with much remonstrance, finally put up the last of his goods, he took out a small tin case, and, opening it, showed a set of very handsome silver tea-spooons. The very things she bad secretly longed for ! The truth was, all their little store of plate was Birmingham plate, Jand she had just so longed for a few teaspoons in silver. The pedlar saw at once that the spoons had caught her eye, and he handed them to her, saying — " Now, madam, here is the laßt set of spoons I have, and you shall have them a bargain. Feel their weight — the best of pure silver ; and there's a place, you see, for the engraving of your name. Do you fear they are not real P Look at the mark." Mrs. Clinton did not fear that ; she knew silver when she saw it. "Yes, they are very nice, very tempting ; but I have not the money," said poor Eunice, looking longingly at tho much-coveted spoons, " What of that ?" cried the pedlar ; "you can borrow of some one, surely. Or I will take any old silver, or gold, or clothing you may have to spare." Eunice caught at the words, " old silver," and thought of the watch she had discovered only an hour before. She went to the drawer, and holding it out to him, said — "What will you allow me for this?" The pedlar took the watch in his hand, and went to the door, as if to examine it better by the light ; while Eunice, trembling, sue knew not why, gazed at the^coveted spoons. "I cannot give you more than twenty shillings for this," he said, "and it ia not worth that." Eunice felt her heart sink ; she had but twelve shillings in the house, and she must have the spoons. Tom knew nothing of the watch ; and, of course, he would not care what was done with ! that old battered thing. But the watch and her twelve shillings would I not buy the spoons. " Have you no old clothes f" asked the man. No, she had no old clothes, she was abot to say; when all at once she remembered a pair of heavy winter pantaloons of Tom's, she had seen hanging up. It would be a long time before winter yet ; perhaps Tom might never think of them again ; she would get them; if the pedlar would only take them the spoons were hers ! While she went up stairs, the pedlar took another look at the old watch, opened an inner case, and started to his feet ; but instantly sat down again when he heard Mrs. Clinton descending. He seemed in such haste to close the bargain now that he scarcely looked at the winter pantaloons. Flinging them over his arm, he placed the case of spoons within the eager, trembling hands of bis young customer, took up his pack and departed. Mrs. Clinton fairly kissed the spoons. Now she could invite her friends to tea, aud not feel ashamed when they surreptitiously glanced at the mark on her silver. Dinner time came ; the table was laid, and she stood at the window looking for Tom. For the first time the thought came to her mind " had she done right ?" Could she tell Tom ? He might not like it about that wafceb. And would he make a fuss at her dealing with a pedlar ? In the old days she remembered her papa had made a fine to do when his wife had bought a shawl of one. Perhaps she had better not show . the spoons to Tom just yet. How strange it would be to keep anything back from him.! Why, what should she talk about? She could not . plague him about her being the first to find any treasure in the old bureau. But there he was coming ! They met with the usual embrace, and Mr. Clinton did not observe any change in, his wife until after dinner was over, and she came in to sit by him ; he fancied then that she was very silent, Eunice was thinking of the spoons. Somehow she. did not- take so much ' pleasure in them as at first. She had laid the little case on the shelf in the cupboard. What if Tom should go there for a glass ? He bad often done so, She left her seat put the water and glasses on the table, aud then sat down again. "What is the water for?" asked Mr Clinton. " I thought perhaps you might want some." " And what has my little wife been doing all the morning ?" " Oh . nothing much ; just stirring about, and "

"And what?" said Tom, drawing her nearer to him ; " have you been

overhauling the old desk again, finding old deeds and all sorts of treasures ?"

"I fear there will never come any treasures to us," said Eunice, almost Bobbing. "Why what's the matter?" cried Tom ; " are you tired, my darling ?" " Eunice muttered something about "loneliness." Any excuse to save telling of the pedlar and the watch. " You are tired and nervous, Eunice. Shall we send for one of your sisters to stay here for a week or twe ?" Eunice fairly burst into tears. She was finding the secret a heavy one, and yet she dared not confess. What would her husband think of her folly ? Those horrid spoons ! She wished she had never seen them. And then, to account for her . low spirits, she said she had a headache. They fell into easy conversation. Something led the topic to Tom's family, and he told her, for the first time, a long story of his grandfather, his mother's father, who had once been considered very rich indeed. He was a great traveller, and was seldom at home after the death of his wife, who had left him two children a son and a daughter, in the fifth year after their marriage. " The children were left with an old housekeeper, in a beautiful cottage, surrounded by well cultivated fields, old trees, and ah extensive garden," said Tom, recalling reminiscenses as he went on , " the garden was the care of the housekeeper's husband, an old Scotchman, who took much delight in it, and was so fond of symmetry that it was of him the story is told which has since become almost a proverb — " ..." What story ?" Interrupted Eunice, growing interested in the tale. " I'll tell you," said Tom ; " this old Scotchman had a son about the age of his master's son. One day while the master was at home, the young Scot was impudent, ar committed some misdemeanour, when his master seized him by the collar, and locked him in the lodge at the gate. Coming out some hours after, my grandfather' was Burprised to hear his own son crying out from the lodge on the other side of the gate. He was locked in. ' What does this mean ?' he exclaimed, hastily releasing his son and heir, and turning to the gardener for an explanation. ' Symmetry, sir, symmetry,' said the stolid Scotchman ; • there is nothing like symmetry !' And the answer was so ready that the offence was forgiven." Eunice laughed. " But the gardener's boy was a wild youth, and soon led his master's son into all sorts of scrapes," resumed Tom. "The master was absent so much of the time he forgot that his son was growing up and needed a guardian's care. At the age of fifteen both boys left suddenly in the night, after committing some folly in the neighbouring town, and although search was made, they could not be traced. The honest gardener did not admire the 'symmetry ' of the thins; so much this time ; ho grieved over the loss of his boy, gave up work, and died just before the return of his master ; my grandfather never got over this blow to his pride; he sent his daughter, my dear mother, off to board-ing-school, and shut himself up in the once pleasant home, allowing no one to speak to him but his faithful old friend the housekeeper; his Bon and the other boy were never heard from ; it was thought they were both lost at sea. "What a sad history 1" cried Mrs Clinton. " The old man, after secluding himself for seven years, again started on his travels; This time it was said he went to Brazil ; He did not return until my mother was in her twenty-second year ; when he did come he was looking old and careworn and apparently poor ; he never made much of his daughter, but settled his affairs, giving the house, furniture, and grounds to his only child, telling her he had a small bridal gift ready for her, provided she should marry to please him ; what the gift was she could not learn ; he had often spent hours at the old desk — that bureau, my dear, that you are so fond of exploring — and he often gave orders that it should be the first care of any of the household in case of fire or other accident ! poor old man ; he was found one morning sitting by his favorite desk stiff and stark ; he had evidently died, in the night, alone and unheard ; of course my mother was stunned, but she could not be expected to mourn very deeply the loss of such a parent; he " " And what of the small bridal gift, Tom!" "Nothing; there was no one; the old desk was searched, but nothing of value found ; some old letters, papers, and such-like were there in plenty ; but the promised bridal gift was nowhere to be seen ; there or elsewhere." "My mother married soon afterwards," continued Mr Clinton, after a pause,] " and I was born in the old home, but alas! that dear place is mineino longer ; after my father's death j it became necessary to sell ifc for our support, and when I was only fifteen my poor mother died, leaving me nothing but her love and kind precepts and the little that remained of her household furniture, the -old bureau-desk! among it." " It is handsome still, Tom, though it is old." " Very handsome ; and now, my dear, I must leave you," he added, " for I have some work to do at the office yet ; as to the, old bureau we will still treasure it ; for do you know, I used to fancy there must be some treasure in it, though whence I derived the notion I can't tell; of course, you'll laugh at that Eunice !" He went off laughing himself. Mrs Clinton gave a sigh of relief, took out the new spoons, and tried hard to take as much delight in them as she had done in the morning. What good could they ever do her if Tom was not to see them ? Even if she Bhould invite company to tea, she would not

is old."

dare use the spoons ! That old watch was surely no treasure, but she heartily wished for it back again. If she could only take ifc to Tom and tell him she had found it in the old desk ! He certainly had never discovered the watch, or he would have mentioned it to her. But a strange repentance clung to her for what she had done ; and for bo trifling a matter she really could not tell why it should. Mrs Clinton sat back in her chair, and cried harder than she had ever cried before. To think of keeping a secret from Tom ; that was what she could not bear ; and yet to tell him of the bargain — that Bhe had dealt with a pedlar — had even chaffered off his winter pantaloons ! — how Tom would laugh at her, tell her father and sisters, and — and — well, she would never hear the last of it. Tom came in to tea, full of news, and quite excited about a man who had been taken suddenly ill at the village inn. "I cannot walk out with you as I promised, Eunice," said the young lawyer " for Ihave to be at the inn at nine o'clock, to make the old fellow's will ; fancy a pedlar making a will !" " A pedlar making a will," repeated Eunice, her thoughts running to her pedlar, and feeling somewhat bewildered. " It's what the landlord said when he came to me at the office. And now I must go. Good-bye, dear." Mrs Clinton sat on, in the dusk of the summer's evening. By-and-by, a gentleman, whom she slightly knew, came to the house, asked to see her, and addressed her without ceremony.' " Mrs Clinton, your husband has requested me to call here and ask you to accompany me to the inn. He is engaged there, and could not come for you himself." Eunice was surprised but did not hesitate. In another minute they were walking down the narrow street together. The swinging sign of the Brown Bear was in sight, when it suddenly occurred to the young wife that all this was curious. "Why" had Tom sent for her ? It was one of Tom's tricks ! Some of their friends had come, and were stopping at the Brown Bear, " Yea ; that must be it. But she found no friends. She was bliowu into a parlour, and waited there alone. Presently Tom came in looking fluried. "Eunice," he said, sternly, "was there a pedlar at our house to-day ?" "Ye-ee." answered his trembling wife. " And did you deal with him ? "What did you give him ?" " Oh, Tom ! I have so wanted to toll you !" sobbed Eunice — " but, not here — not now !" "Yes, here and now," returned her husband ; " you do not know how much depends on your words." "Oh, oh ; — please, Tom, don't look so at maj^t only you would laugh at and tea^eme — and — perhaps not like it. I—lI — I will never do so again." " Just tell me what you did do," commanded Mr. Clinton. Eunice, wishing she could sink through the floor, but trying to be brave, now it had come to this, made a clean breast of it — the old watch, pantaloons and all. Tom stood aghast ; and then taking Eunice by the hand, led her up stairs, to the bedside of the sick man.. It was the pedlar of the morning ; but alas how changed ! A few cases of a sad epidemic had occurred in the village during the past week ; and the pedlar was stricken with it, after eating a very hearty dinner. The physician who was called in told him he had no chance for life, and the poor man sent at once for Mr. Clinton ; asking for him "as the husband of the lady who lived in the white house at the corner." For, after the bargain, he had informed himself who the Clintons were. Tom received the message ; and like all young lawyers, on the look out for practice, he responded to it with eagerness ; and, before the time appointed, appeared at the bedside of the sick man. What was his surprise to hear, between groans and paroxysms of pain an unintelligible tale of spoons, watch, pantaloons, and bis wife. For a time he could not understand : and when he could uoderstand could not believe. His refined young wife dealing with a travelling pedlar! But the pedlar kept asking to have the lady sent for ; and Tom sent. Now he heard her story, be awaited the denouement. Eunice approached the sick man, trembling. He took something from beneath the mattrass, held it a moment, then placed it within the lady's hand. " I am dying," he said ; " they tell me I am dying ; and I want you to forgive me, for I cheated you this morning, and the Lord has laid his hand upon me — my wns have found me out. Here is the watch ; take it, and all that is in it! I do not know what it is worth, but the spoons would [ never pay for it. * Keep them, and pray for me. Oh, pray for me !" And the poor man rolled in agony. Mr. Clinton took his wife down stairs, out into the street, hurrying her along until they reached their own gate. " G-o in, now, darling," he said, " and I will go for old Dr Ray ; I have more faith in him ; he may be able to help the man yet." So saying he hurried away, leaving his wife standing at the gate, clutching the old silver watch in her hand. She went slowly into the house, lighted the lamp, and once more tried to examine the watch. "What can there be in this aid thing to causo so much grief and remorse to that old man, I wonder ?" she said in her bewildered confusion: " I cannot get that dying man out of my thoughts.', But the watch would not open. It I could not be that. Then the thought struck her that there might have been something valuable in the pocket's of those pantaloons. She had not looted

before sbe gave them — and they were still at the Brown Bear. Getting out the case of spoons, she placed them, with the old watch on the table, and waited for Tom. She had not long to wait ; he came in wiping the perspiration from his forehead, for the evening was warm and he had walked fast. He had left the old doctor with the sick man, and hurried back to his wife, for he longed to have the events of the day aud night thoroughly explained. After kissing Eunice, who clung to him like a frightened child, he took up the old battered watch, and said, "Now, dear, show me where in the old desk you found this." Eunice went to the desk, took out the drawer, and then the one at the back of ifc, in which yet remained the the old paper wrapper. Mr. Clinton seized upon this at once, examined it carefully, and then looked up with a suppressed, eager smile, *' Eunice, the long lost bridal gift is found at last !" And euro enough, the little yellow paper told it all. A valuable diamond was concealed in the interior of the battered old watch ; a diamond that was almost priceless. The son's young wife bad found what the poor mother had so long searched for — the splendid bridal gift that the old man bad died without bestowing. "No more strugles Eunice," said Mr Clinton, with heartfelt satisfaction; "no more need for my wife to roast her face over the kitchen fire, or to debar herself innocent pleasures, because they would cost shillings and sixpences." And Eunice burst into a storm of happy tears, and cried on his arm. And in time when Tom went plodding on, making himself into a renowned lawyer, little children played in the pretty garden, aad climbed on papa's knee, and beggei to hear again and again the pretfcj story of the lost diamond. Nor must I fail to tell of the recovery of the pocr frightened pedlar. Dr. Bay had him up and about in no time, and his ilrst walk was to the " white house " in the corner, again begging Mrs Cl'nton to accept the spoons as a small gift, and as having been the means :>f making an honest man of him. Ihere was no cheat in those spoons. They were real silver ; and they are stil. in the family, with the name " Eunice " engraved on each, and they are called " the diamond spoons." The padlar owned that he suspected something when he shook the old watch and heard a peculiar rattle, and when he caught a glimpse of the sparkling jewel, it dazzled his eyes, and ba never waited to look at the pantoi'oons which were brought out by the young, thoughtless wife to complete the sum required, although he found, on looking at them, that they alone were well worth the pnee of the spoons. " Xou see, Eunice, how you were robbing me," her husband would say, with grave lips, and laughing eyes ; " what would your poor husband nave done when winter came, and the chilly winds did blow, without any thick trousers to put on ?"

As an example of " a well-placed family," the "New York Herald" gives the following : — " There is a rumour that the Crown Prince of Hoi land will marry the Princess Thyra, a sister of the Princess of Wales. This will in the course of nature make the Princess Queen of Holland. The King of Denmark, her father, is one of the poorest monarchs in Europe, and has perhaps the smallest kingdom. He has done remarkably well with his large family. One daughter will probably be Empress of Russia, the other Queen of England. One son is King of Greece, another will be king of Deumark, and now another crown comes into bis family. To have children reigning over England, Russia, Greece, Denmark, and Holland, is a great achievement in the way of honour and power.'' The Wanganui " Chronicle " has the following: — A couple, very well-known in the country are arranging terms for a separation, to avoid the scandal ot a judical divorce, and a friend has been employed by the husband to negotiate the matter. The latest mission was in resfrence to a valuable ring given to the wife before marriage by the husband. For this ha would make a much desired concession. " What!" said the indignant wife, " do you think I could tear myself away from a gift which alone recalls to me thedays when my husband loved me?', No ! this ring is my only souvenir for happiness departed !" "Tis all" — and here sbe wept — "that I now possess of a once fond husband." The friend, however, insisted. The lady supplicated — grew obstinate — grew desperate — threatened to submit to a public divorce as a lesser evil than parting with the cherished ring, and at last confessed that sho had sold it six months before. The present Lord Mayor of London, who has been made a baronet as a token of the Queen's appreciation of the honours paid by the metropolis to the Duke of Edinburgh and his bride, was a ploughboy in Ayrshire, and his first" step to the dignity of a merchant prince was taken when he left the plough and commenced shop-keeping in a small way in the town of Greenock. So ifc is Whittington over again who lias become Lord Mayor of London. It is remarkable that the Irish members in the House of Commons have the tallest man in the Assembly, Mr. O'Sullivan, the member for Limerick County ; the least man, Dr. O'Leary, the member for Drogheda; and the stoutest roan, The O'Gorman, the member for Waterford, who ig said to be a stone heavier than the claimant. Ruled Paper.— The French press. Electric Bells. —Female telegraphists. Fowl Expression. — Cock crowing. Wedding Song. — Love knot.