Democratic Sentinel, Volume 9, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 April 1885 — Centered at Last. [ARTICLE]

Centered at Last.

Together they strolled by moonlight —he and ’she. They talked' of poetry, pigs’ feet, and pictures. They communed -with the stars, and felt that heaven was drawing nearer to earth day by day. ._T Her hand was on his arm, nestling there in fullest confidence. His carnage was erect; his step firm and buoyant. Happy man! Blissful maiden! He told her of his day dreams, in a voice that to her was melted gold. With a sweep of fancy he tore away the curtains of reserve, and showed her castles of brightest splendor—in the air. With a tremulous quiver that filled her soul with sunbeams fresh from their fountain source —»unsullied by touch of earth—she bowed her head in raptures as the blissful scenes unfolded before her mental vision. She longed for a cot in some hazy dell; with a vine clambering o’er the window, and plenty of provisions in the cellar. He talked of Shakspeare, high rents, and the price of pork. Her heart gave a flutter, for she felt that the turning point of her destiny was near. Fixing his piercing eye full upon her, he told her of his battles with the heartless, cruel world. She wondered why he didn’t pop and be done with it. Then he dropped into poetry again, and wandered, oh, so far away, from the thought that thrilled her soul. She gnashed her teeth, and began to hum, “Home, Sweet Home." * Again he made her heart go bounding high in hope, as he remarked, with a sigh, that carpets were coming down fearfully in price, for he toiled daily in a mart wherein they were sold. With a tremor like the flutter of an eaglet’s wing, she softly pressed his arm, and had a great mind to faint and drop on the fire-plug. But the diversion might distract him, and she withheld. He wandered to religion, pancakes, and sophistry. She loosened her hold. He immediately came back to the police-court and family trouble. She tightened }ier grip. From there he went to Rome and the Greeley survivors. She dropped his arm like a cold potato. But only for an instant. He began talking about turning over a new leaf with the ne’w year. She marveled how malice could have found lodgment in her heart, ahd trotted up a little closer to his side. He told her he loved She turned pale and clinched his arm. Hot cakes with plenty of syrup. She felt that her time was drawing near, and her head began to seek his shoulder. Or honey! Down went her head. The millennium was coming. « But not just then. He spoke of the monastic orders, and the peaceful serenity of a hermit’s life. She marched on alone, with both hands at her side. But that sort of an existence wouldn’t do for him, he said. With a bound she had gripped him again with both hands, and yearned for more melody. What he wanted was a fireside of his cwn. Oh, ecstasy! The dear man. With a nice little wife—and he looked into her face with tenderness. “All right! Take me! I’m yours!” she almost shrieked with the delirium of joy. “And now let’s go right home and tell the old folks, qnd figure up how soon we can get to house-keeping. I’m tired of this sashaying around. I want to settle right down and begin on a crazy quilt.” She was born in Chicago, and business was bred in her bone.— Chicag&Ledger.