Democratic Sentinel, Volume 6, Number 26, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 July 1882 — TOM’S CHOICE. [ARTICLE]

TOM’S CHOICE.

We ha<l just finished breakfast. Tom laid down the egg-spoon he had been playing with, aud looked across at mother. “Aunt Anne, I think I’ll take a wife/' ho »aid, exactly an he might have said, “ I think I’ll take another cup of coffee.” “Take a wife?” repeated mother, by no means receiving the information as tranquilly an it had been given. “ What for?” “ WeH, I don’t know,” answered Tom, thoughtfully. “It’g a notion I’ve got in my head somehow.” “All nonsense I” said mother, sharply. “l)o you think ho?” said Tom, apparently doubtful, but not in the leant put out. “Think ho? I know it. What in the world can you want of a wife ? After all them; yearn we have lived so comfortably together, to bring home Homebody to turn the bonne upnide down ! And, then, what in to become of that poor chilli?” The “ poor child ” —that wan I—reddening at being brought into the argument in thin way, wan about to apeak for herself, when Tom interposed, warmly. “ I’m sure May known I would never have any wife that would make it lean a home for her—don’t yon, May ?” “Of course,” naid 1. “And I’m nure nhe known nothing of the nort,” pernmted mother, “nor you either, Tom Dean. How can you annwer for what a wife may take into her head to do, one® you get her fixed here? You can’t oxocct her to forget, oh you do, that May has no real claim on you.” “ That i have no real claim on her, I nuppone you mean, ma’am,” Tom put in for the we eon d time, just as I wan thoroughly uncomfortable. “ But, for all that, 1 intend to help her—that in,” added Tom, with one of )iis nhort nighted hlinkn nidewaynat me, “an long an nhe’ll ntay with me, eh, Mary ? And wlioevor ban anything to nay againnt that arrangement will have to go out of my house to nay it—not that I’m afraid of any nueli result in thin cane— and, on the whole, Aunt Anno, I nhould like to try the experiment.” Mother mailed grimly, but Tom wan ho evidently bent on bin “experiment,” an he called it, that nhe gave up the argument. •• you can dance if you are ready to pay the piper,” nhe said shortly. “ And prav, how noon do you mean to be married?” Toru’n face fell a little at thin question. “ Well,” naid he, “ I can’t Hay oxactly, I nuppone we will have to ho engaged llrnt.” “ What!” Haul mother, opening her eyen; “why, you never mean to say, Torn, you haven’t Hpoken to her yet?” “ Not yet,” answered Tom, cheerfully, “Time euongli for that, you know, after I had npoken to you.” “ Well,” hlic aaid, “if it was anybody else, I nhouhl Hay ho wan cracked ; but you were never like other people, and never will bo, Tom Dean. But, at leant, you have fixed on the lady?” “Oh, yen,” auHwercd Tom; “but if you will exciiHO mo, Aunt Anno, I would rather not Hay anything about her junt yet; for if -if anything nhould happen it wouldn’t bo pleasant for either party, yon know.” With which veiled all union to hin possible rejection, Tom took bin hat ami left the room. Our household wan rather quecrlyput together. There in no particular reason why I nhould have been of it at all, for I wan not really related to Tom, nor even to “ mother,” an I called her, though I am hu re we were an dear to each other aH any mother and daughter could lie. Hlie wan the Hoooud wife of my father, who, like mont minintern, had been richer in grace than iu goodn, and left un at hi« death with very little to live on. Then it was that Tom J)oun had come forward and insisted on giving a home to bin aunt and to mo, whom ho had Hcarcoly neon a dozen times iu luh life before. That wan exactly like Tom—“queer Tom Dean,” an Inn friends were fond of Haying, “ who never did anything like anybody cine.” I nuppone, in Hpito of bin clear head for business. there in no denying that he wan whirnnieal; hut I am wire, when I think of bin unfailing generosity and delicacy, I can’t help willing there were a few mere hucli whimsieal people in the world. Naturally, at the time I am speaking of, my opinion had not been asked; all I had to do was to go where mother went, anil, while sho gave hoi energies to the housekeeping, I give mine to growing up, which by this time I had pretty well accomplished. But perhapH for that very reason—for ono neon with different eyes at 12 and 18— my position in the liouho had already begun to Hoom unsatisfactory to me; and the moruing’H words put it in a clearer light, Hiuoe it had been used as au argument against Tout’s marrying. I knew that mother had spoken honestly, bolieving that such a step would not be for his happiness ; but was ho not the best judge of that? I knew him, if reflection should bring him round to her opinion, to bo perfectly capable of quietly sacrificing liis own wishes for my sako, who had not the shadow of a claim upon him ; so it must be my part to prevent his own kindness bomg turned against him now. Still, it was not so easy to see how I was to provide for myself in ease it should become advisable. What could Ido ? Draw and sing and plfy tolerably, but net in a manner to compete with the hosts that would be in the field against me. Literature ? I had road so many stories whose heroines, with a turn of tho pen, dashed into wealth and fame. That would be very nice, only—l was not the least bit literary ; I had nevor even kept a journal, which is saying a groat deal for a girl in her teens. Tho “ fine arts,” then, boing out of thequostion for mo, what remained? There was some clerkship, or a place in some family, and—and there was Will Broomlov! That zany seem Itko going away from tho poin 1, but it was not. I was mat-ter-of-faut, but I could see woll enough what was going on right under my eyes, and I hail a pretty clear idea of what wan bringing Will to the house so often an ho hud taken to coming lately. There was a “situation” then, that would give mo tho homo life I liked best and felt myself best suited for ; but—would it answer in other respeots? I overoast the long seam I was sewing twioe over, I was so busy trying to make up my mind whether I liked Will Broomley yell enough to pass my whole life witty

him; and even then I bad not come to any decision, when I was called down stain to Lettr Walters. Letty was the prettiest, I think, of all my friends, and certainly the liveliest. Tom called her “ the tonic,” and need to laugh heartily at her bright speeches. I suppose it was tins that made mother fix on Letty as his choice. When I came into the sitting-room I found a kind of cross-examination going on. It was smnsing to anybody in the secret, as I was, to watch mother’s artful way of continually bringing the conversation round, as if by chance, to bear on what she wanted to know. Bat it all amounted to nothing, either because Letty was a good fencer, or because she really had nothing to betray. But, when Tom came home, mother took care to mention that Letty had called. “ What, the tonic T said Tom. “ Too bad I missed.” “But for your choice being already made,” said mother, with a covert scrutiny of his face, “ I dare say you might have as much of tbe tonic as you liked.” “ But Igo cm the homeopathic principle, you know,” answered Tom, with a twinkle in his eye. After that mother’s belief in Letty’s guiltiness wavered. Her suspicions were transferred from one to another of our acquaintance, but always with the same unsatisfactory remit. “It passes my comprehension,” she said to me, despairingly, one day. “ I am positive I could tell the right one by Tom’s, face in a minute, and yet I have mentioned everybody we know.” “Perhaps it is somebody we don’t know,” I suggested; “some friend of his we have never seen.” “What! a perfect stranger?” said mother, sharply. “Never talk to me, child ; Tom’s not capable of that.” I was silent, for I did not want to worry her; but that was my opinion all the same. The same evening—it was rather more than a week since Tom had hurled that thunder-bolt of his at us—mother began about it openly. “When are you going to introduce your wife to us, Tom ? I suppose you have come to an understanding by this time. ” “ Oh, there's no hurry,” Tom Haul, as he had said before; but this time did not speak quite so cheerfully. “Tho fact is,” he continued, “ there—there’s a rival in the cane.” “A rival! ” repeated mother, with unfeeling briskness, “ Yes, a young fellow—younger by a good deal than I am,” and T«m’s faco assumed an absurdly doleful look. “Ho is always there now. I confess I don’t see my way clear; I’m waiting for her to make up her mind.” “ And she’s waiting, most likely, for you to make up yours,” said piother, forgetting, in her propensity to right matters, that she was playing the enemy ’s garme. “ There's 'Something in that that never occurred to me,” said Torti, his face brightening. Mother naw her mistake, and made a counter move at once. “But the ways of my time are oldfashioned now ; young ladies, nowadays, take matters into their own hands. If she cared for you, you may he pretty sure she wouldn’t have waited till this time to let you know it—that is, I judge by the girls I am in the habit of seeing ; but if this ono is a stranger to me—” (here mother riveted her eyes on Tom’s face ; oh, dear, my unfortunate words!) “if she is an entire stranger, I cannot pretend to form an opinion of her, of course.” “Of course,” repeated Tom, absently. “ Not that I have any such idea,” resumed mother, growing warmer; “I have said, and may say again, that to bring a perfect stranger under this roof, is not my opinion of you, Tom;” I felt mother’s words like so many pins and needles ; for Tom was looking meditatively at me, and, though that was just a way of his, it seemed now as if he were muling in my face that tho opinion was mine and that 1 had been meddling in what did not concern me. I felt myself, for very vexation, getting redder every moment, till it grew intolerable. “ It is so warm hero,” I said for an excuse, turning toward the French window. “I am going to got a breath of air. ” I went out into our little strip of garden ground ; Tom followed. 1 thought I should never have a better opportunity to say what I bad a miml to say, so I waited for him by tho bench under tho old pear tree. “Bit down here, Tom,” I said, “I have something to say to you.” “ Have you? ” said Tom ; “ that’s odd, for I—well, never mind that just yet. Wlmt is it, May ? ” “ Tom,” I said, still surer now he had misjudged me, and more resolved to set him right, “I want a place.”

“ A place ?” repeated Tom, puzzled, an well lie might lie by thin (million and indefinite announcement; “what kind of a place ? ” “ 1 don’t know," I Haul, for indeed my ideas were of the vaguest. “ I thought you might, being in tho way of those things. Now, pray, Tom,” Jf went on quickly, “don’t fancy 1 am discontented—or anything of that sort, Tho truth is, qver since l left off ifehoot I have wanted something to do, and had it in my mind to speak to you about it.” With this I looked at Tom, fearing ho might bo vexed ; but ho did not look vexed ; only preoccupied. “ I do know of a place, as it happens,” he said, after a while, “only I’m not sure how it would suit you.” “That’s soon scon,” said I. “What is it like?” “ Well, It’s a sort of—of general usefulness—" “ Why, it must bo run errands,” said f, laughing. “ And where is it, Tom ? ” “ Well,” said Tom, hesitating again, “ it’s with mo.” “ How very nice !’’ I exclaimed. “ How soon can I have it?” “Tho Booner tho hotter, so far as I am concerned,” said Tom, and with that he turned and looked at mo, and directly I met his oyos I knew somehow, all in a moment, what it was ho mouut; and I knew, too, both that I could not have passed all my life with Will Broom ley, and why I could not. I am sure Letty Walters, who interrupted us just then, must have thought my wits were wandering that ovening, and, indeed, they were ; for I was completely dazed with this sudden turn things had takon. But Tom, who had the advantage of me there, took it quite coolly, and laughed and talked with Letty just the same as ever till she went away. It was pretty late when wo wont in. Mother sat where we had left her, knitting in the twilight. “ Wasn’t that Letty Walters with you a while ago ?” she said, as we came in. “Yes,” said I, with a confused feeling of an explanation of something being necessary; “she just came to bring the neworoohet pattern she promised me.” “ H’m 1” said mother, os much as to say she had her own ideas as to what Letty oame for. Tom had been wandering about tho room in an absenl sort of fashion, taking up and putting down in tho wrong plaeos all the small objects thot fell in his way. He came up and took a seat by mother. I became of a sudden very busy with the plants in the window; for I knew he was gorng to tell her. “Wish me joy. Aunt Anne,” said lie: “it’s all settled.” “Settled, is it?” Haid mother, in anything but a joyful tone. “So it’s as I suspeoted all along. Well, you have my best wishes, Tom; perhaps you may be happy after all; I’m sure 1 hope so. TWh WWtt’t a very encouraging sort o|

congratulation, and Tom seemed rather taken aback by it “Fm sorry you are not pleased,” he m~iA after a p*"***. “I had an idea somehow yon would be.” «‘I did not know from what yon judged. Bat, there, it’s no use of crying over spflt Ton’ll be married directly, I presume. I moat be looking for a house,” and mother stroked her nose reflectively with a knitting-needle. “What for V said Tom. “I thought of keeping on here all the same.” “ I never suspected otherwise,” said mother. “Of coarse I did not expect to tarn yon oat of your own house.” “Bat what is the need looking oat for another, then?” “ Why, for myself.” “ Few jpurself ?” repeated Tom, in a tone of otter amazement. “Going to leave ns—just now ? Why, Aunt Anne, I never heard of such a thing.” “Now, Tom,” said mother, speaking very fast, and making her needle fly in concert, “we might as well come to an mutorKfamding at once on this subject. I am folly sensible of your past kindness —now just let me finish—l say I appreciate it, and have tried to d j my duty by yon in return, as I hope I should be always ready to do. I wish all good to yon and your wife, and shall be glad to help her if I can, but to live in the same house with her is what would turn out pleasant for neither one of ns, and, once for all, I can’t do it.” “Annt "Anne,” said Tom, poshing back his chair and staring in mother’s excited face, “either you or I must be out of our wits ”, , , „ “It’s not me, then, at any rate,” retorted mother, getting nettled. Amusement and a certain embarrassment had kept me a silent listener so far, but there was no standing this ; I tried to speak, but could not, for laughing. “ I think you are all out of your wns together,” said mother, turning sharply. “ What ails the child ? It’s no laughing matter.” “You don’t understand each other, I gasped; “ oh, dear! it’s not Letty—oh —oh, dear!” and relapsed again. “ Not Letty ?” repeated mother, turning to Tom. “ Then why did yon tell me so?” “ I never told you so,” said Tom. “Why, yes, you did,” persisted mother. “ You came in and told mo you were going to be married.” “ Yes, so I am,” said Tom, still at cross purposes. “ Now, Tom Dean,* said mother rising aud confronting him, “ what do you mean ? Who is going to lie your wife ?” “ Why, May, of course,” answered Tom. “May!” and then, after a pause of inexpressible astonishment, it was mother’s turn to laugh. “Do yon mean to say, Tom, it was that child you were thinking of all the while ?” “Why, who else could it be?” said Tom, sharply. “Well,” said mother, “I ought to have remembered you never did do anything like anybody else. But, still, why in the word do you go to work in such a roundabout way ? ” “ I wanted to see how you took to my idea,” said Tom. “ And how do you suppose we were to guess your idea meant May?” mother asked. “Who else could it be?” repeated Tom, falling back on what he evidently found unanswerable argument. It was no use talking to him. Mother gave it up with a shake of the head. “ And you won’t want another house then, Aunt Anne ?” said Tom, suddenly. That set mother off again ; Tom joined with her, and altogether I don’t think we ever passed a merrier evening than the one that made us acquainted with Torn’s wife.