Rensselaer Union, Volume 10, Number 29, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 April 1878 — ALWAYS BEHINDHAND. [ARTICLE]

ALWAYS BEHINDHAND.

Slipper was ready and waiting. Our guest had not arrived, but there was another train an hour later. Should the family wait for my friend, or should I alone, who was the personage especially to be visited? My father paced the floor nervously, as was his wont when he felt disturbed. He had the evening papers to read, and he never opened them until after tea. This was a habit of bis. He was very fixed—or, as some express it, “ set”—in his little ways. It was Bridget’s evening out, and she had begun to show a darkened visage. ■ Bridget was no friend to “company,” and it was policy to conciliate her. So the family seated themselves at the table, and I sat near, waiting until Brother John should be ready to accompany me a second time to the station?'" '

“ What about this young lady friend of yours, Nelly?” asked my father. “Is she one of the unreliable sort—a little addicted to tardiness, that is?” “ I am obliged to confess, papa, that at boarding-school, where I longest knew Jeannette, she was inclined to be dilatory; but that was jears ago. It is to be hoped that she has changed since .then.” „ “ I should wish to have very little to do with a behindhand person,” said my father, shaking his head very gravely. “Oh, papa!” I remonstrated, “you will not condemn a dear friend for one single fault. Jeannette is beautiful and accomplished, sensible and good-tem-pered. Everybody thinks she is splendid.- ' _l__ “ She may have very pleasant qualities, but 1 tell you, girls,” he added with sudden emphasis, “ that a want of punctuality vitiates the whole character. No one is good for much who cannot bo depended upon; and what dependence is to be placed on a man who is not up to his engagements? In business, such a man is nowhere; and in social life Aetawdling, dilatory man or woman is simply a pest. But mind, my child. I am not characterizing y our friend; we cannot tell about her till wc see.” The latter train brought my friend. She was profuse In her regrets; she had been belated by a mistake in the time; her watch was slow. As she was pouring forth a torrent of regrets and apologies, I observed my father bestowing glances of evident admiration at the Fair speaker, while the rich color came and went in her cheeks and her eyes kindled with animation. Truly, beauty covers a multitude of faults. Sister Bell, who was as punctual as ray father, was appeased, and promised to take care of the tea-things and let Bridget go out. My father good-naturedly offered to regulate the halting watch by the true time.

To her chamber we went together, to talk as girls do talk when they meet in this way, after a long separation. Folding mo in her arms, she told me all about her recent engagement to George Allibone; showed me ner engagement ring, and her lover’s photograph. It was a noble head finely posed, and a most eng wing face, and my ready and cordial admiration was a new bond of sympathy. It took until nearly midnight to say all that we girls, aged twenty, had to say to each other; and this, in addition to the fatigues of travel, was accepted as an excuse for Jenny's tardiness at breakfast. She really had pies nt to be early. But this was only the beginning. Throughout the whole three weeks of her visit, she was scarcely punctual in a single case where time was definitely appointed. She was late in rising, late at meals, late at church and for excursions, and. to our profound mortification, late for dinner appointments, even when parties were made especially on her account. She seemed sorry and mortified, but' oh each occasion she would do the same thing over again. “What can she be doingP” my mother sometimes asked in perplexity, when and I were ready and waiting. * ———-■.-r-,—. ' ‘Doing her hair, mother,” we answered, “ and she will do it over until it suits her, be it early or late.” “Oh, these hair-iVojrksl” sighed my mother. “ How much tardiness at church and elsewhere is due to overfastidious hair-dressing! What is' that line of good George Herbert’s? ‘ Stay not for the other pin.’ I think he must have meant hair-pins.” My sister and I sometimes fig reed between ourselves to compel her to readiness by standing by to help her in her preparations; but in vain: She must write a letter or finish a story before making her toilet. Why not accomplish

the toilet first, to be sure of it—any time remaining, for the other purposes? She didn’t like to do so. No philosopher could tell why. It is an un&ocountable, mysterious something, rooted deep in some people's natures—this aversion to being beforehand. I have seen it in pther people since the time when it so puzzled and troubled me in Jenny. It marred the pleasure of the Visit most miserably. I was continually fearing the displeasure of my father and the discomfort of my mother. The whole household were disturbed by what seemed to them downright rudeness. “ Now, Jenny,” I would plead, “do be early, dear, when papa comes with the carriage. It annoys him dreadfully to wait.”

She would promise to “try.” “But pray, Jenny, why need you have'to try? It is easy enough. For my part, I never will make any one wait for me. Igo without being ready, if need be, or stay behind.” I had come to talk very plainly to her, out of love and good-will, as well as, sometimes, from vexation of spirit. For the twentieth time she would tell me how truly she had meant to be punctual in some given case, and that she should have been so but that she was hindered when nearly ready by some unforeseen occurrence. ~p“But, my dear, unforeseen "-"tindrances will often occur, and you must lay your account with them, and give yourself extra time. You will run the risk of meeting some great calamity by trusting, as you do, to the last minute.”

And the calamity did befall her. Mr. Allibone spent a day with us. We were anticipating with great pleasure a second visit, when a telegram arrived requesting Jenny to meet him in Boston on the succeeding morning. A business emergency had summoned him abroad very suddenly; and lie was to embark for Liverpool in the evening. We all sympathized with Jenny in the startling effect of this sudden announcement, and offered her every sort of help when the hour for her departure was at hand. She hadonly to compose herself and prepare for the journey. Sister Bell would arrange her hair and bring her dress, and she would be spared all effort. She seemed grateful, but was sure she could be ready without troubling any one. She dreamed not how much she was, even then, troubling us, for we were beginning to tremble lest she should somehow manage to be late for this, her only train. She kissed us all twice over when the hackman arrived at the door; but, suddenly glancing in the mirror and observing how ashen was her usuallybrilliant complexion, she declared against wearing the gray cashmere in which she was dressed, of a hue so like her face. George must not meet her thus. She seized her black silk, with which, in spite of remonstrances, she proceeded to array herself. There was time enough; the carriage must surely be too early. Alas! for the ripping out of gathers, in the violence of ner haste, ana for the loopings of her skirt, not to be dispensed with! Horses could not be made to do the work of five minuteS in three. She saw the cars move off without hari ■ - '~~~r~ No words were called for. My mother carried a glass of elderberry wine to the poor ' girl, and left her alone to her tears. They would do her good. We oprselves needed-, rest, after the troubled scene of hurry and excitement, and we sat down, feeling as if a whirlwind had passed. “It is beyond my comprehension,” said my father, when he came home to dinner. “ I can understand tardiness,” he continued, categorically, “as the result of indolence. Lazy people dread effort and postpone it. There is in my employ who continues to work sometimes after hours. The men tell me that he is actually too lazy to leave off work and put away his tools. But Miss Jeannette seems active and energetic.” “She miscalculates, papa,” 1 said. “ She al ways imagines there is plenty of time until the last minute?’ “ But herein is the mystery,” persisted my father. “ Whence this uniformity of dereliction? Why not sometimes too early and sometimes just in the right time, instead of always and everywhere late, and making others late?”

“ Poor girl!” said my mother, whose compassion was uppermost. “I pity her with all my heart; yet it is not a case of life and death. This trial may be attended with beneficial results. We will hope so.” I am sorry that this hope was apparently not to be realized. The lesson failed to be read aright. Jeannette recovered her serenity, and resumed her tardy ways. A yet severer lesson was needed, and it came. The steamer in which, after an absence of ten or twelve weeks, George Allibone was to embark for home, was lost, and not a passenger saved. My father took me at once to my Eoor stricken friend, in her distant ome. Pale and dumb with grief, yet with tearless eyes, she let us take her almost lifeless hand. From her bloodless lips came only the low, anguished cry, “ If only I had said farewell!” What comfort in wordsP We offered none. My father’s eyes brimmed over, and my heart was breaking for my poor Jeannette. But relief came speedily. The joyful news was received that George was safe, having, made a necessary change in his Slans, and would arrive in a fortnight. eannette came up from the depths. What should her thank offering beP She made the resolution to become at once faithful to her appointments, prompt and reliable. It was not that she would otry— she would speak the commanding words, “I will.” She has kept her resolution. Writing to me, after a lapse of years, she sain! “You will hardly know your dilatory friend. I remember and practice your advice of former years, to be first ready for my appointments, and to reserve other work for. the interval of watting after lam ready. It is surprising how often I find not a moment left for waiting. Still, I feel the old tendency to procrastinate, and I ant obliged stead* fastiy to resist it. * Delays are dangerous/ as our old writing-copies used to jam; the sentiment is hackneyed, but oh, how true! George says he owes you ten thousand thanks for your faith--ful counsel, and we shall spoak them when you make us the visit of which we feel ko sUre t because your promises, as I well know, are faithfully kept.” SI. Nicholas. \ >mm -rii i .1 * • | The Dallas (Tex.) Herald recognizes Northern grit and enterprise, and speaks in praise of the colonies from the North, who“ fling themselves with impunity beyond the line of our utmost settlements, and wrest new territory from the clutch of mature and the savage.” : - v