CHAPTER XI.

Whither my heart is gone, there follows my hand, and not elsewhere. For where the heart goes before like a lamp, and illumines the pathway, Many things are made clear that else lie hidden in darkness.

LONGFELLOW'S EVANGELINE.

THE afternoon in question soon arrived, and Deacon Arnold sallied forth with indescribable feelings, upon his errand of love. As he approached the cottage that contained the object of his solicitude, he found his heart beating most violently; in fact, he was in a tremor never experienced by him before. He had made no allowance for certain palpitations which might seize his heart, while previously imagining the business like manner in which he should lay his plans before the widow ;- -nor had he once thought that his voice might possibly betray some slight emotion. In his own opinion, he was proof against such nonsense, as he termed it. But as he felt these most alarming symptoms attack himself, he thus endeavored to quiet them:

"Plague take this pesky old heart of mine; can't it stop thumping so nohow. By Jimmy, 't won't do to see the Widder in such a plight. Guess I'll step round and 'tend to that piece of fence that's down, and git my breath a little."

As Mr. Arnold had proposed, he took a turn round to his stone

fence, and after feeling somewhat relieved, he again approached the Widow's house. His heart beat high and loud as before, but summoning to his assistance a most "don't care a cent" exterior, he ventured to knock upon the door. A gentle voice from within, said "come in."

Uncle Joseph raised the latch and entered the apartment where the widow Bell was seated alone, (how propitious,) sewing.

"Good afternoon, Widder," said Mr. Arnold, "thought I'd jest step round and see 'bout a little business I had on hand."

“Good afternoon,” replied Mrs. Bell, at the same time handing him a chair. "I suppose my rent is due by this time," she continued, not imagining Mr. Arnold could have any other business with her.

"Botheration," ejaculated the Deacon, ""T ain't Joseph Arnold that's on hand the minute a cent's due him never thought of the rent, Widder. Pretty fine weather we're having," continued he, at a loss how to communicate his true errand.

"I'm inclined to think you are mistaken, Deacon," replied Mrs. Bell, smiling at his blunder. "The rain against the window panes tells a different story."

"Well, I declare, if I ain't an old fool; I knew it was raining all the while-hain't got my senses 'bout me. The fact is, Widder, the fact is"- here he hesitated again.

Mrs. Bell looked up in astonishment; what was the matter with Mr. Arnold? He wasn't drunk, oh, no! He was a good man, and of course never known to drink anything but cider, and very moderately of that. Could it be, thought she, that his mind was wandering? She had never heard such a report, or seen indications of such a thing before. His conduct was inexplicable-she would wait and see.

"The fact is, Widder Bell," again stammered Uncle Joseph, "I'm dreadful lonely up to that big yeller house."

Mr. Arnold had come to the conclusion that it might be quite as easy to try a few hints upon the Widow as to proceed in his business-like manner.

"There's only three of us, and the house is big enough for a dozen; didn't know but I might find somebody that'd be willing to take part of the house with me." Having acquitted himself in this way, he looked up at Mrs. Bell, hoping to discover whether his words had produced any effect upon her.

There she sat still sewing. Her face told no tales, although she began to have an indefinite idea of the object of Uncle Joseph's visit. Still she replied not a word, and Mr. Arnold, after a slight pause, proceeded :

"The fact is, Mrs. Bell, I've got enough of this world's goods, and I hope I've got a treasure in heaven; but something's wanting on earth yet; I'm plaguy lonely; if I live in this way much longer my heart will be all wizzened away, jest like a dried kernel in a nutshell. You see everybody wants somethin' to love; I presume you've sometimes thought so yourself?" A pause. Uncle Joseph waited a reply, but being convinced by the long silence that if the conversation was carried farther it must devolve upon himself to continue it. 66 Well, then, I've concluded to be married-to take a wife," said he, afterwards, as if in corroboration of his first statement. "Ah! indeed!" ventured Mrs. Bell, "A good idea I presume." 'Hope you'll say so, when you know whom I'm after," retorted Uncle Joseph, laughingly; "But to be brief, Widder, you know it's a great thing to be brief and come right to the pint, no use going round the corner forever; well, to be brief, I say—you know the wise man says 'brevity is the soul of wit;' and I believe it—I never saw the pith of a joke yet that was spun out as long as my arm. I again repeat it, to be brief-hem; here Uncle Joseph cleared

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his throat, "hem, hem. Old fool," said he to himself, then turning to Mrs. Bell, and edging up a little nearer to her, much to that lady's consternation, who had really begun to believe herself alone with a crazy man, he said:

"You're jest the one for me." Having made this declaration, he seemed evidently at ease. He experienced no more difficulty in attempting to speak; words rolled from off his tongue in rapid succession; in fact, love made him eloquent. "You see, I want to know if you'll be my wife, Widder ?"

The Widow could no longer fail to comprehend his idea. For a moment a merry smile twinkled in her eye as she thought of Mr. Arnold's awkward attempt at love making. Presently her face wore a serious expression, much to Uncle Joseph's dismay.

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Mr. Arnold," said she gently, "your proposition is very unexpected to me; I should want time for reflection."

"Could n't you reflect right off; maybe I could help you," cunningly interposed Mr. Arnold. "The fact is you've got my heart,

and delay makes me impatient."

Mrs. Bell again smiled at the eagerness of her bachelor lover. She knew she had no objections herself, for was not Mr. Arnold one of the best men that was ever born and brought up; and although he was peculiar and homely in his manners, did he not have a great heart? She knew it all; and she also knew it would be no very hard task for her profound esteem to deepen into the warmer feeling of love. It however needed considerable persuasion on the part of Uncle Joseph to over-rule her many objections, for with the true tact of woman, she did not mean to be too easily won.

At length he obtained the consent of the Widow to be his, and his joy knew no bounds. If Mrs. Bell had thought him crazy before, she might with greater propriety have thought him more insane

now. Still, my dear reader, she did not think him crazy at all. I presume she found sufficient excuse for him. That brave, stouthearted man that did not mean to say a sentimental thing, but was going to proceed in so business like a manner, actually found himself uttering the most beautiful bits of sentiment in the willing ear of the lady of his love. And as we are telling a true tale, you will believe —although prudish or old maid notions might forbid my committing such an oracle of good faith—yet for the profit of more youthful lovers, I must write it out, the Deacon actually kissed the "Widder."