Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 4, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 October 1883 — POSTAGE NOT STATED. [ARTICLE]

POSTAGE NOT STATED.

I was tall, overgrown, awkward and 16, with a pervading consciousness that my hands and feet were very large, and the added misery, in the case of the former members, that they were always red, and I never knew wliat to do with them when in company, Yrwas -making a visit at grandmother's delightful, old-fashioned country home, when' one morning the dear old lady called me to ter- ” “Here is something for you, Jim,” she said, “an invitation to a children’s party at Mrs. Edwards. ” “Children’s party,” I repeated, probably with a shade of scorn in my voice, as indicating that I was no longer to be placed in that juvenile category. “Not children exactly,” corrected grandma, with a smile at my masculine dignity. “Young people, 1 should have said. Mrs. Edwards’daughter Florence is 14, and Tom Bvrne and all the boys —young men, I should say,” with a twinkle of amusement, “ will be there. ” I had sundry misgivings that I should not enjoy the party at all, being as yet very much afraid of girls, though beginning to admire them as mysterious and fascinating beings. However, I i accepted the invitation, as I foujid that ail the boys I knew were going, and tlie party was to be quite a “swell” affair for the village. When the evening cflnie it found me with the rest, seated in a large parlor, very unhappy because of my arms and bands, which would by no mehns arrange themselves in any graceful or becoming manner, and extremely bashfnl, but full of admiration for a lovely black-eyed girl about a year younger than myself, who I knew to be Tom Byrne’s sister. She sat some distance from me, but she had given* me a sweet smile when I first came in, and now from time to time cast glances at me which increased at once my bliss and my confusion. Various games were suggested and played, but they were of a quiet character, such as “Twenty Questions,” “Proverbs,” etc., so that I had no cpSortunity of approaching any nearer to label, who showed herself very brilliant in her questions and answers during the progress of these intellectual amusements. Then somebody suggested that we ahould play Postoffice. “Postoffice! what' is that ? how do you” play it?” I whispered to Tom Byrne, my next neighbor. “Don’t you know how to play Postoffice?” he > asked, with scorn of my ignorance. “Oh, well, I suppose you city fellows don’t know anything. ” “I never heard of this,” I assented pi ftp.kly, “Well, I’ll tell you how it is; a girl asks for a letter for some boy, and then you have to ask her hew much postage, and if she says 1 cent, you have to kiss her pnee.” “Oh!” said I. “Yes,” replied Tom, “and kiss her twice for 2 cents, and three times for 3 cents. It’s quite fun if it’s a pretty girl,” he added, judicially. “1 suppose so,” I replied, vaguely. “But I forgot to tell you,” he added, *if she says ‘postage not stated’then you kiss her as often as you- like. Hush! they are going to begin.” To be sure, one of the oldest boys was appointed Postmaster, and one girl after another went out into the entry, each presently knocking at the door and asking for a letter, whereon the boy called for sheepishly followed her into the hall, and to judge from the spnnds of screaming and scuffling which generally followed, paved his postage unjer considerable difficulties. I watched the game in a state of bewildered alarm. Wliat if a girl should call for me! But no one did and I was half disappointed, half relieved, that I was Exempt, when at last it was Mabel Byn le’s tunr-to go out. on fier beautiful face. The door was solemnly closed upon her, and then, after a brief pause, there was a faint knock. The Postmaster opened the door a few inches. * “What do you want?” he asked. “There is a letter here,” she replied. “For whom?” “For Mr. James Hill.” „ “How much to pay ?” “Postage not stated,” was the faint reply. , ( They all laughed loudly and looked at me, for that was my name. The blood rushed in crimson floods to my face. I got on my feet somehow, and with my heart torn between a wild desire to go into that hall and a wish to sink utterly away from human kind, I stumbled out of tne room. The door was closed behind me and I found myself almost in darkness, as the hall was but dimly lighted. I paused a moment and then I heard the faint •onnd of qoick breathing; another heart was beating as violently as my own. For once in my life I knew what to do with my arms. I caught hold of her. I scarcely know how. The darkness gave me courage and I held her in a close clasp, and pressed my lips to her cheek in three or four rapid, halffrightened kisses, before she could free herself from my embrace. “There, there! Mr.' Hill,” she said, with a faint merry laugh, “don’t be so bashful again, fm sure yon are bold enough now!” “Have I paid my postage?” I stammered. "Indeed, yes; enough and to spare. Come, let us go back to the parlor.” She led me in, a willing prisoner, and the rest of the evening I was her bond 4 : ':4,. . -- • ’ • / . ’ ’

slave; her partner in all games, her companion in the dance, (wherein I excelled the country boys, and gloried in my accomplishment,) and, at last, crowning delight of the etching, her escort home. This was all. The next day I returned to my home in tlie city, and Mabel Byrne became only a memory; i strong at first, fainter as time went on, but sweet always. When I saw other girls I compared them mentally with the picture my imagination painted of Mabel, and they never seemed half so fair and sweet as she. But then, I did not see many other girls. My bashfulness, instead of diminishing, seemed rattier to increase upon me as the years went by™“l avoided society, and was so much of a recluse from ladies that my mother was quite worried lest I should become a confirmed old bachelor. Perhaps one reason why I retained my diffidence was that my pursuits were among books and not among people. I had madh the science of geology my study, and at 27 found myself in a comfortable position as Assistant Professor in one of our best colleges, the salary of which with my own income added, making me so far at ease that I resolved to devote my summer vacation to a tour in Europe. ~ • Equipped with bag and hammer, August found me making a pedestrian tour in Switzerland, with a special view to the study of itd glacial system and lithology. I avoided the welltraveled ways. thus escaping the'society of all other tourists, and I was therefore utterly amazed when one evening, as I drew hear the little house which was mv temporary abiding place, a tall form strode toward me out of the darkness and a lieartv voice cried out: “Jim! Jim Hill!” “Who is it?” I replied, with a half nervous start. * “Ah! 1 thought it was my old friend. Have you forgotten Tom Byrne ?” Of course hot, for I had met him occasionally , since we were boys, and I was heartily glad to see my former comrade, always one of the best of companions. “I saw your name on the book at the inn,” he explained; “was sure it must he you. At any rate I thought I would start out to meet you.” “But how came you here?” I inquired, “in this out-of-the-way corner of the world.” “Because it is out of the way. Mabel and I are making a trip in search of the picturesque. You know she is quite an artist?” So Mabel was with him. My heart gave a curious thump, and for a moment I could hardly make a sensible reply. “Yes,” he went on, “she is so devoted to her art that it seems to quite absorb her life. She has not thought of marriage, aud does not care in the least for the ordinary run of society. She will be glad to see you, though,” he added consolingly, “as you are a man of science.” We walked back together to the little inn, and presently I was shaking hands with a beautiful and stately woman, whose bright, dark eyes flashed with the strange intensity and fire that I had never seen in any other eyes but those of Mabel Byrne. She greeted me very cordially and after we three had taken an evening meal together, there followed a delightful evening in the little parlor that Tom and his sister had seettred; For once in my life I felt myself quite at ease in a lady’s society. In the first place there was Tom to keep me in countenance by a predominance of my own sex in the company, then Mabel did not expect me to talk of airy nothings, that light foam of the social whirlpool which I never yet had been able to skim. She spoke first of my scientific pursuits, and showed so much knowledge of the subject that I really found myself talking with earnestness and enthusiasm of the formation of the country, and especially of the glacial system and the curious marks of its action borne by the specimens I had collected. She in her turn contributed to the evening’s interest by telling me of her work, and showing me her sketches, which were really of a very high order of artistic merit. Tliero was no schoolgirl weakness in her handling of the brush, but a force and poetic thought that had won her already honorable recognition in the world of art. “And you have never heard of Mabel’s paintings until now?” asked Tom. “No,” I confess. “You know I have been quite absorbed in my special studies.” 1 z~7~ “Yes, and you have not seen Mabel for ever mr hmg; buvg-ymr?” '"~ r ~ W“No,’ v I replied, “not since that summer ten years ago, when I was -at my grandmother’s.” “Jolly time we had, too,” said Tom, reflectively. “Remember that party at Mrs. Edwards?” A sudden rush of blood to my face utterly confused me. I stammered a reply, and Tom, to my relief, went on with some rambling reminiscences. It was some seconds before I dared to look at Mabel. Surely she was blushing, too. The next morning we all went on a trip up the slopes of the mountain. Mabel in short, gray suit, alpine hat, and stout boots; Tom carrying her drawing material. Thus we made this, and many another, delightful expedition. Life took on new colors for me. There was a radiance and glory about it that I had never dreamed' of before. Every day I found fresh reason for admiring my beautiful companion, and our walkwthrough the deep valleys and up the rough mountain sides were to me like enchanted journeys through a realm of fairies. In tins loveliest j country in the world, with this most glorious woman by my side, I was, indeed, as one transfigured by the light of the grand passion that took possession of my soul. At first I knew not what had befallen me. I thought only that my pleasure in Mabel’s society sprang from a similarity of tastes and pursuits, and the charm of her conversation; but gradually I woke to the overwhe’ming fact that I loved her with the one great love of my life, that seemed to me now to date from the days of long ago, to have been always with, me, and to stretch

out into the future to make it transeendently glorious, or a long despair. And yet as soon as I had fearned my own secret, my former bashfulness came back upon me with tenfold intensity, and I found myself often embarrassed in her presence, while at the thought“of telling her my heart’s storv, though my brain was smitten through with dazzling delight at the dream of successful wooing, yet I was so overwhelmed that utterance would, as I was sure, be an impossibility. And Mabel ? Her, eves were very kind to me. They turned to me with a softened luster that thrilled me with hope; and yet, if I attempted even a compliment, I blushed, floundered, and was lost. • v One evening we were talking of all manner of subjects, grave and gay, and so strayed to marriage in general, and especially to the matrimonial lot of some of our old friends. “You remember Bovd, don’t you, Hill?” asked Tom. “Tall, bashful fellow, like me?” I added. “Yes,” replied Tom, laughing. “He married Miss Cutting, our former school teacher. I always thought she proposed to him. ” “Sensible girl!” I exclaimed. “I think it is positively a woman's duty sometimes to help a man out. You remember that book of the late l>r. Horace Busnell, published some years ago, called ‘A Reform Against Nature?’ In it he denounced the whole woman’s rights movement, but maintained that every woman ought to have the right to propose marriage to. the man she liked. „ I think he was scientifically correct.” I spoke with great Eagerness, looking always at Tom. but at the last words my glance turned to Mabel, her eyes were fixed on mine, and the look I met there sent the blood to my heart with such a swift, tumultuous rush, that I grew faint with confusion, and presently rushed out of the rgom and to bed—though not to sleep. The next day I went out in the afternoon, by myself for a scramble through a damp and very rough gorge where Tom and Mabel did not care to accompany me. I was half glad to be alone for I was nervous over my audacity of the night before; yet at thought of Mabel’s kindly eyes, so overwhelmed with blinding happiness, that I had to look many times at a bit of rock before I could see the striae that denoted glacial action. It was late .sunset when I reached the inn. The last rosy light was flushing the distant mountain peaks with that marvelous beauty which is one of the wondrous charms of Swiss scenery. I made my way without pause to Mabel’s parlor, led there by a force that seemed to draw me by a power beyond my control. The room was quite dusk and she was alone. As I entered she came toward me with a quantity of letters and papers in her hands. “These came while you were away,” she said. Mechanically I took the papers. Among them there was a large package on whioh I dimly discerned tlie word “Due,” followed by an illegal stamp. “You have paid something on this," I said; “how much was it?” and looked up. “Postagenot stated,” replied Mabel, Promptly, smilingly, she uttered the words. Then her dark eyes softened and faltered. The papers and letters were scattered over the floor. I had caught her in my arms with all the audacity that had been once before mine in my boyish days. - Only now, as I pressed passionate kisses on her brow and lips, I found voice at last to utter the yearning that was consuming my heart. —Lillie Devereux Blake, in Bio Leivis’ Monthly.