Democratic Sentinel, Volume 4, Number 36, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 October 1880 — JENNIE'S ROMANCE. [ARTICLE]

JENNIE'S ROMANCE.

BY AEIOU.

“ You don’t pretend to say so ! ” “ But I do, really. •' ‘ ‘ True ? ” *‘ J list as true as yon live and breathe! ” “ Well, I never ! When are you going ? ” ‘* In the morning stage as far as Springfield, and then in the cars.” “ Won’t that be nice ? ” “You can just believe so ! ” “liemember and tell me all about Boston, ” “Oh, Twill.” “ Wish I was going.” “ Wish you was, too.” These were the words of a bit of conversation between two young ladies one Sunday morning, as they stood in the Congregational Church of Perryville, and pretended to be singing “Coronation.” Jennie Jones had confidentially told Ellen White, when they arose to join in the singing, that she was going to Bos ton, and Ellen had expressed herself as perfectly surprised. Tn Perryville, it was a great and iirtportant event for one of the citizens to go as far away as Boston. Once in. a long while some adventurous Perryvillian visited Greenfield or North Adams, and the village merchant went twice a year to Springfield, but no one, excepting perhaps Rev. Mr. Profounde, ever went to Boston. Perryville was an isolated town in the backwoods of Northern Massachusetts, out of hearing of finished civilization, and a little world in itself. The people were Yankees of tin- 1 purest stamp and quality, and as con-ceitcd-as they chose to be. Among the good people of Perryville Mr. Thomas Jones was the magnate—and to be the great man of a Yankee town is to be a person of consequence, Thomas Jones had the best farm in town, was the thriftiest of the citizens, and held all ol the most important town olliees. Jennie was bis only child, and from her birth had been reared to believe her father the one blight star in Perryville. It had dawned on the magnate’s mind that his daughter might become a talented lady if she cOuld only be educated, and he determined that she should have the best educational advantages that money could buy. And so she was going to Boston—there to be transformed from a redhaired, milk-and-water country beauty into a cultured lady.

Ellen White hastened to impart the important news io her next neighbor, Mrs. Phipps, and long before Rev. Mr. Profounde completed his sermon nearly all of the congregation knew of it. They gathered about Jennie when the services were over, and the poor girl was completely overwhelmed by their congratulations. George Harrison came that Sunday evening, as he always did, to “setup” with Jennie. The young man was bowed down with the great sorrow of parting, and was full of sober thoughts. “I want you to remember me, Jennie,” he sadly said. “Of course I will !” Jennie replied. And George went home at 11, fully persuaded that Jennie was the best woman ever created, and apprehensive that some Boston gentleman might entertain the same opinion. Monday morning came toJmnie, not as other Monday mornings usually came. There was no washing to do, no cream to churn. She was free to act her own pleasure, and she moved about the old farm house sublimely sensible that a grand era in her life was about to begin. Her mother was tearful and sad, and George, hiding behind the rail fence, shed great, briny tears. Her father alone was confident. “I’ll rcsk Jennie,” he said; “she’s jest like me, an’ she’ll git along.” As proof of his confidence he placed in the girl’s hands a purse of SIOO. “Put it right inter yer bosom,” he said ; “ they say that pickpockets can’t git at it there. ” Jennie obeyed, and firmly resolved that no pickpocket could get at her treasure. The stage came at 9 o’clock, and Jennie took leave of her parents. The old black trunk that had been her grandmother’s was lashed on the boot, and the journey for Boston began. At the postofiice, Jennie’s boon friendshad met, and, while the stage-driver was waiting for the. mail bags, there was an osculatory leave-taking. Then the lumbering coach drove off, and the happy girl left Perryville behind her. The sun had shown its noonday to the city of Springfield when the fair traveler reached there, and was set down at the depot. There never was a 17-year-old maiden before who saw Springfield in such a brilliant light as she saw it. To the country girl it was something like paradise, but it was not Boston The eastern-bound train came in, and Jennie dutifully obeyed her father’s instructions to take the rear car the moment that the train stopped at the depot. There were but two or three vacant seats, and she chose the one nearest the door. A multitude of forebodings and wondcrings filled her mind. She thought of the possibility of an accident, of the rate of speed that the train would run, of the route, the great Boston beyond, and little Perryville left behind. Mentally she ran over her father’s many injunctions in regard to board bills, car fare, extortionate hackmen, and especially about pickpockets.

Once on a time she had read in the Weekly Gazette a story of a lady’s adventure with a pickpocket, wherein that personage was described as a modern Claude Duval, handsome, black-whis-kered, and wearing an immaculate suit of black and a silk beaver. The story recurred to her mind, and instinctively she looked about the car for one who should have the appearance that the story had named. She started the next moment. In the seat directly before her sat a gentleman, tall, noble looking, and dressed in faultless black. A long and heavy black beard hid his mouth, and from beneath his hat a curly wealth of raven hair was thrown carelessly back. Jennie lost no time in arriving at conclusions. Nothing could have been more confident than her decision. Undeniably the gentleman filled her ideal. Without doubt he was a knight of the road, a wolf seeking whom he might devour. Jennie trembled just a little, and began to hope that the gentleman would not

notice her. She felt of her pocket-book, and resolved that she should keep it at all hazards. . The train started, and Jennie felt a little less perturbed. The dark gentleman took from his pocket a copy of the morning’s Republican, and began to read. , , _ “Just like a pickpocket! Jennie thought. “Perhaps,” she adfled, “he thinks I’ll get sleepy by and by, and then he’ll give me chloroform. But I guess I’m smart enough for him!” The summer scenery of dusty Hampden county lost its charms to the country girl, who, utterly regardless of the changing view of hill and vale, kept her eyes fixed nervously on the very suspicious-looking gentleman in the seat before her. Presently the train reached Palmer, and among the passengers who entered was one gentleman who stopped beside Jennie’s seat, and in a pleasant, manly tone of voice asked “ if it was engaged?” It was slightly unfortunate that the train was just starting, and the questioner’s words were made indistinct to the young lady. She understood the word “engaged,” but the rest of the querv was inaudible to her. “What if I am?” she retorted, quick, petulantly, aiid only as a Yankee girl can. “I wotild like to sit down if it is not,” the gentleman smilingly persisted. “bit down for all I care!” Jennie responded. He took the seat by her side. “ Warm day,” he began. Jennie looked poutingly out of the window. “Yes,” she simply said. “I hope I do not crowd you ; ” the stranger said apologetically, and in such a pleasant voice that Jennie turned and looked forgivingly on him. The gentleman’s face was full and ruddy, and a pair of black eyes smiled in rivalry with the frank lips. He was dressed in a light summer suit, very becoming to the breezy nature that he showed. Jennie had never seen such a captivating man, and she was ashamed of herself for showing so much petulance. She thought that perhaps she was mistaken, and that he had not asked if she was engaged. Of course he wouldn’t, such a fine-appearing man ! Something about him entranced her, and it seemed precisely as it did when she and George Harrison sat on the parlor sofa of an evening. “No, sir, you do not crowd me,” she answered, hesitatingly. “ It is tiresome to ride, is it not?” the gentleman remarked. “ Yes, sir,” was the demure answer. “You are from the West, perhaps ?” “I am from Perryville, sir.” “That is in this State ?” “Yes, sir.”

‘‘ I beg your pardon, but you have eyes like a Western lady’s—gentle, dovelike and calm.” Jennie felt flattered. “The Western ladies are very pretty,” the gentleman said. “ I have traveled extensively in the West, and I have yet to see a lady in New England so fresh ami fair as the Western flowers. I always feel so cold here in Massachusetts, where fair ladies are so rare. You may doubt me, but no fairer face than yours have I seen here.” “Thank you,” Jennie guilelessly answered. The stranger sighed, and continued : ‘ ‘ Now, I am going to Boston, and expect to die of ennui, for fair women are it a discount there.” “ I am also on my way to Boston, sir,” the girl said. “Indeed! Are you going quite through on this train ?” “Yes, sir.” “That is too bad. I stop over in Worcester one train. You are traveling alone?” “Yes, sir.” “If I were only going through, now, f flatter myself I could be of service to von.” “ You might, sir. lam a stranger to Boston, and I should like to be directed. Pa told me perhaps I might fall in with some kind person who would help me .dong.” “Too bad, madam, that duty is duty. I should be pleased to help you. It is no pleasure to travel alone and know no one.” “ I think so, sir. And it is ’specially for ala ly. There are pickpockets, you know.” The last words were uttered in a whisper, and Jennie looked harder than ever on the gentleman in the seat before her. “Yes, there arc pickpockets,” her voluble companion answered, “but I hardly think there are any in this car.” “O, sir,” Jennie whispered. “ I am sure that that gentleman ahead of us is nothing else.” “He has a very indifferent look, certainly,” the affable man said. “But of course you do not carry money with you to any amount ?” “ f have SIOO, sir.” “Ah! Let me advise you not to carry it in your pocket. Thieves are too adept, and would not fail to find it there.” “So pa said, sir, and I put it here in my bosom.” “A good place to carry it, madam.” “Do you think he could find it there ?”

“No, I presume not. My sister declares that her purse is safe there, but mother carries hers in her hat. Either place is safe. My sister would agree with you, .Miss ” “My name is Jones, sir.” ‘‘ A very poetic name ! Mine is Lawrence—Alexander Lawrence. I have no cards with me ; but I am a commercial traveler from D & Co., New York.” Conversation continued. Mr. Lawrence showed himself more and more agreeable, and Jennie was completely won by the charming address of the stranger. Although she was a blushing and sensitive girl, she had some of her father’s common sense, and she saw in the tone and style of her new acquaintance a man altogether different from any one she had ever before met. His refined ease and deference made an immediate impression on her. She was fascinated, and felt that she had found an atmosphere where her lightest words might safely float. There are men who may well be styled male flirts, who trifle with an artless maiden till they read her soul, and then leave its book unclosed. The drummer was such a man. Before the train reached Worcester, Jennie felt that she had known him for a life-time. She told him of her own history, of Perryville, of her father’s wealth, of her purpose in visiting Boston. With rapt attention Mr. Lawrence listened, perfectly satisfied to find that he had opened the girl’s heart, and encouraging her confidence by attentive flattery. * * You must favor me with your address while you are in Boston,” he said, “ for I shall do myself the honor of calling on you. ” Jennie promised that she would, and fondly imagined her pride at having such a gentlemanly admirer. In her heart she determined upon writing to George Harrison the next day, and asking to be released from her engagement. Wouldn’t it be nice to astonish Perryville by announcing her engagement to such a nice gentleman as Mr. Lawrence! In her mind she married the words, “Mrs. Alexander Lawrence.” What would Ellen White say ? Wouldn’t all the good people of Perryville be astonished ? All too soon Worcester was reached. Jennje’s foolish little heart beat rapidly when Mr. Lawrence took her• hand and bade her good-by, with a tender expression of the hope thathe might meet her again in Boston. Then he went out, and Jennie feSt very lonely. She caught one last glimpse of him from the car window,

and then the cars went on, and the dream was over. So agreeable had been the companionship with Mr Lawntnce that Jennie had for a whole hour forgotten all about her fear of pickpockets. Now the thoughts came again. There was the darkbearded gentleman still in the seat before her. There was—no, there was not! She put her hand to her bosom. Her pocket-book was gone. She made the discovery, and announced it with a little scream, and then a succession of shrieks. The attention of all the passengers was excited, and the gallant conductor came running to the rescue, expecting to find the lady in an epileptic fit. “ Oh, oh ! It is gone! He has got it!” she cried, in perfect agony. “What is it, madam?” (The conductor did not ask the question very lias stolen my pocket-book!” she cried. ‘ * Who, madam ?” “He—that fellow—that pickpocket!” indicating the astonished gentleman, who had leaned over the seat, looking mildly at the young lady. “ Which gentleman ?” asked the conductor, not at. all pleased with the disturbance. . “That man.!” Jennie cried. “Don’t Jet him get off! He has got my money ! "I had it in my bosom, and he stole it! Search him ! feet it!” “Madam,” the conductor said, “it is impossible—” “ He’s got it, an’ yon know it!” the girl remonstrated. “ You’re in league with him, I know ! Oh, dear; won’t somebody help me ?” And poor Jennie InAst into a paroxysm of tears. The conductor looked doubtfully at the accused gentk-man, who immediately said: “If the lady th Auks I have her pock-et-book, I am willing that you should search me, conductor. ” The search followed. The gentleman regarded the conductor with a quizzical i expression on his face, as he emptied | first one pocket, then another. The 1 passengers regarded, the proceeding with amused faces. Jennie anxiously watched every movement. lhe pocket book wag not found. “ O dear, dear !” Jennie cried. “ What shall I do ?”

“Madam,” the conductor said, “it was, no doubt, the young man who occupied a part of this seat flhat deprived you of your pocket-book !” “What!” Jennie exclaimed, looking up through her tears. “What! you do not think he'stole it ? No, sir ; that was Mr. Alexander Lawrence, from New York.” “Indeed !” the conductor returned. “And who is he?” Jennie was nettled. “ He is one of the nicest of men,” she answered. “ Did vou ever see him before?” “ What if I didn’t ?” “Madam, you will find him to be the thief. By the way, do you know' who this gentleman is that you have accused of theft ?” “ No.” “ It is no other than Rev. Dr. S , of New York.” Jennie turned deadly pale. What had she done? The name of Rev. Dr. S had often met her eye, and she had thought of him as one of the great men of the United States. Confusion possessed her soul, but her natural frankness came to her rescue. The conductor had gone on down the aisle, and, acting on an impulse of her better nature, she leaned forward. “Dr. S——,” she said, quietly, “I beg your pardon for what I did.” 'lilie reverened gentleman smiled blandly. “ I am glad that you are satisfied of my innocence,” he mischievously said, and added:' “Did you lose a large sum ?” “ One hundred dollars, sir.” “That is, indeed, a great loss,” Dr. S remarked, courteously, “but I think if you act on the conductor’s advice you may recover it.” ‘‘ Do you think Mr. Lawrence took it ?” A nameless fear seized Jennie’s mind. “ I think it probable, madam,” Dr. S answered. “ Just think it all over and make your conclusions.” His manner was so kindly that Jennie felt herself ashamed. Gradually there dawned on her mind the idea that Alexander Lawrence was not only a fraud but a flirt and a hypocrite. It is easy for a New England girl to arrive at a conclusion. The fire flashed to her eyes, and with the rushing of the blood came a sense of hatred for the man in whom she had so foolishly confided, and W'hom she now regarded as an impostor. A feeling of faintness came over her. “ O dear, what shall I do?” was all she could say. The kind heart of Dr. S was touched, and he interested himself in the young lady, inquiring into all of the partien) ars. When Jennie spoke of her parents and her home a tender chord was touched in the clergyman’s heart. He advised her to leave the cars at the next station, return to .Worcester, and there put the case in the hands of the police. Jennie consented to the plan, and, greatly to her surprise and pleasure, Dr. S volunteered to accompany and assist her.

Fortunately the up-train was met at the next station, and Jennie, with Dr. S , left the one train to take the other. The excited gill felt ashamed of her position, and divided her anger between Alexander Lawrence and the author who had dared picture a pickpocket as a man with a black beard, wearing a suit of conventional black. No longer did she distrust Dr. S . When they reached Worcester Dr. S——■ sought the chief of police, and the result of the matter was that Mr. Alexander Lawrence was soon in the hands of the law. The missing pocket-book was not found on his person, but an indictment was procured against him, and after an examination he was admitted to bail. In the strongest terms he deprecated the accusation, alleging that he was * * only flirting. ” Dr. S felt confident that the thief had been secured, and was equally sure that, with the conductor’s evidence, he would be convicted. He took Jennie to a hotel, and, with assurances of hope, bade her good-night. The poor affrighted girl threw herself into a chair, and gave vent to her grief in an outburst of tears. She felt that her money was lost, Boston an impossibility, and a disgraceful return to Perryrille a certainty. In the agony of her sorrow she frantically pulled off her hat and threw it from her—when out rolled the lost pocket-book ! Jennie now remembered indistinctly that she had slipped it from her bosom into her hat that monring when Mr. Lawrence had stepped out for a glass of water, thinking that i t would be safer there. She had been so fascinated by ' the flatterer that the act had been forgotten. Dr. S received the explanatory confession with a merry laugh. Mr. Lawrence was released. In the morning Jennie went on to Boston with Dr. S——, and by him was introduced to a ladies’ seminary. The SIOO did good work, and Jennie returned to Perryville a “finished” young ladj. Of course, Rev. Dr. S married her and George Harrison, and Jennie tells her children of her romance.