A RACE FOR A SWEETHEART. BY SEBA SMITH. HARDLY any event creates a stranger sensation in a thinly settled New England village, especially among the young folks, than the arrival of a fresh and blooming Miss, who comes to make her abode in the neighborhood. When therefore Squire Johnson, the only lawyer in the place, and a very respectable man of course, told Farmer Jones one afternoon that his wife's sister, a smart girl of eighteen, was coming in a few days to reside in his family, the news flew like wildfire through Pond village, and was the principal topic of conversation for a week. Pond village is situated upon the margin of one of those numerous and beautiful sheets of water that gem the whole surface of New England like the bright stars in an evening sky, and received its appellation to distinguish it from two or three other villages in the same town, which could not boast of a similar location. When Farmer Jones came in to his supper about sunset that afternoon, and took his seat at the table, the eyes of the whole family were upon him, for there was a peculiar working about his mouth and a knowing glance of his eye that always told them when he had anything of interest to communicate. But Farmer Jones' secretiveness was large and his temperament not the most active, and he would probably have rolled the important secret as a sweet morsel under his tongue for a long time, had not VOL. II.-No. 9. Mrs. Jones, who was rather of an impatient and prying turn of mind, contrived to draw it from him. "Now, Mr. Jones," said she, as she handed him his cup of tea, "what is it you are going to say? Do out with it; for you've been chawing something or other over in your mind ever since you came into the house." "It's my tobacher, I s'pose," said Mr. Jones, with another knowing glance of his eye. (" "Now, father, what is the use?" said Susan; we all know you've got something or other you want to say, and why can't you tell us what 'tis." "La, who cares what 'tis ?" said Mrs. Jones; "if it was anything worth telling, we shouldn't have to wait for it, I dare say." Hereupon Mrs. Jones assumed an air of the most perfect indifference, as the surest way of conquering what she was pleased to call Mr. Jones's obstinacy, which by the way was a very improper term to apply in the case; for it was purely the working of secretiveness without the least particle of obstinacy attached to it. There was a pause of two or three minutes in the conversation, till Mr. Jones passed his cup to be filled a second time, when with a couple of preparatory hems he began to let out the secret. "We are to have a new neighbor here in a few days," said Mr. Jones, stopping short when he had uttered thus much, and sipping his tea and filling his mouth with food. Mrs. Jones, who was perfect in her tactics, said not a word, but attended to the affairs of her table, as though she had not noticed what was said. The farmer's secretiveness had at last worked itself out, and he began again. "Squire Johnson's wife's sister is coming here in a few days, and is going to live with 'em." The news being thus fairly divulged, it left free scope for conversation. "Well, I wonder if she is a proud stuck up piece," said Mrs. Jones. "I should'nt think she would be," said Susan, "for there aint a more sociabler woman in the neighborhood than Miss Johnson. So if she is at all like her sister I think we shall like her." "I wonder how old she is?" said Stephen, who was just verging toward the close of his twenty-first year. "The squire called her eighteen," said Mr. Jones, giving a wink to his wife, as much as to say, that's about the right age for Stephen. "I wonder if she is handsome," said Susan, who was somewhat vain of her own looks, and having been a sort of reigning belle in Pond village, for some time, she felt a little alarm at the idea of a rival. "I dare be bound she's handsome," said Mrs. Jones, "if she's sister to Miss Johnson, for where'll you find a handsomer woman than Miss Johnson, go the town through ?" After supper, Stephen went down to Mr. Robinson's store, and told the news to young Charles Robinson and all the young fellows who were gathered there for a game at quoits and a ring at wrestling. And Susan went directly over to Mr. Bean's and told Patty, and Patty went round to the Widow Davis' and told Sally, 130 A RACE FOR A SWEETHEART. and before nine o'clock the matter was pretty well un- a prettier gal since last Thanksgiving Day, when Jane derstood in about every house in the village. At the close of the fourth day, a little before sunset, a chaise was seen to drive up to Squire Johnson's door. Of course the eyes of the whole village were turned in that direction. Sally Davis, who was just coming in from milking, set her pail down on the grass by the side of the road as soon as the chaise came in sight, and watched it till it reached the squire's door, and the gentleman and lady had got out and gone into the house. Patty Bean was doing up the ironing that afternoon, and she had just taken a hot iron from the fire as the chaise passed the door, and she ran with it in her hand and stood on the door steps till the whole ceremony of alighting, greeting, and entering the house was over. Old Mrs. Bean stood with her head out of the window, her iron-bowed spectacles resting upon the top of her forehead, her shriveled hand placed across her eyebrows to defend her red eyes from the rays of the setting sun, and her skinny chin protruding about three inches in advance of a couple of stubs of teeth, which her open mouth exposed fairly to view. "Seems to me they are dreadful loving," said old Mrs. Bean, as she saw Mrs. Johnson descend the steps and welcome her sister with a kiss. Ford was here to visit Susan Jones." "Tall or short?" said Stephen Jones, who was rather short himself, and therefore felt a particular interest on that point. "Rather short," said Jack, "but straight and round as a young colt." "Do you know what her name is ?" said Charles. "They called her Lucy when she got out of the chaise," said Jack, "and as Miss Johnson's name wasBrown before she was married, I s'pose her name must be Lucy Brown." "Just such a name as I like," said Charles Robinson; "Lucy Brown sounds well. Now suppose, in order to get acquainted with her, we all hands take a sail to-morrow night, about this time, on the pond, and invite her to go with us." "Agreed," said Stephen Jones. "Agreed," said Jack Bean. "Agreed," said all hands. The question then arose who should carry the invitation to her; and the young men being rather bashful on that score, it was finally settled that Susan Jones should bear the invitation, and accompany her to the boat, where they should all be in waiting to re "La me, if there isn't the squire kissing of her tu,"ceive her. The next day was a very long day, at least said Patty; "well, I declare, I would a waited till I got into the house, I'll die if I would't. It looks so vulgar to be kissing afore folks, and out of doors tu; I should think Squire Johnson would be ashamed of himself." to most of the young men of Pond village; and promptly an hour before sunset, most of them were assembled, with a half a score of their sisters and female cousins, by a little stone wharf on the margin of the pond, for the proposed sail. All the girls in the "Well, I should'nt," said young John Bean, who village of a suitable age, were there, except Patty came up at that moment, and who had passed the Bean. She had undergone a good deal of fidgeting chaise just as the young lady alighted from it. "I and fussing during the day, to prepare for the sail, but shouldn't be ashamed to kiss sich a pretty gal as that had been disappointed. Her new bonnet was not done; any how; I'd kiss her wherever I could catch her, if it and as to wearing her old flapsided bonnet, she declared she would not, if she never went. Presently Susan was in the meetin-house." Jones and Miss Lucy Brown were seen coming down the road. "Why, is she handsome Jack?" said Patty "Yes, she's got the prettiest little puckery mouth I've seen these six months. Her cheeks are red, and her eyes shine like new buttons." In a moment all was quiet, the laugh and joke were hushed, and each one put on his best looks. When they arrived, Susan went through the ceremony of introducing Miss Brown to each of the ladies and gen "Well,” replied Patty, "if she'll only take the shine off Susan Jones when she goes to meetin, Sunday, Itlemen present. sha'nt care." While these observations were going on at old Mr. Bean's, Charles Robinson and a group of young fellows with him were standing in front of Robinson's store, a little farther down the road, and watching the scene that was passing at Squire Johnson's. They witnessed the whole with becoming decorum, now and then making a remark upon the fine horse and the handsome chaise, till they saw the tall squire bend his head down and give the young lady a kiss, when they all burst out into a loud laugh. In a moment, being conscious that their laugh must be heard and noticed at the squire's, they, in order to do away the impression it must necessarily make, at once turned their heads another way, and Charles Robinson who was quick at an expedient, knocked off the hat of the lad who was standing next to him and then they all laughed jouder than before. "Here comes Jack Bean," said Charles, "now we shall hear something about her, for Jack was coming by the squire's when she got out of the chaise. How does she look Jack?" "Handsome as a pictur," said Jack. "I haint seen "But how in the world are you going to sail ?" said Miss Brown, "for there isn't a breath of wind; and I don't see any sail-boat, neither." "Oh, the less wind we have, the better, when we sail here," said Charles Robinson, "and there is our sail-boat," pointing to a flat-bottomed scow-boat some wenty feet long by ten wide. "We don't use no sails," said Jack Bean; sometimes, when the wind is fair, we put up a bush to help pull along a little, and when 'tisn,t we row." The party were soon embarked on board the scow, and a couple of oars were set in motion, and they glided slowly and pleasantly over as lovely a sheet of water as ever glowed in the sunsetting ray. In one hour's time, the whole party felt perfectly acquainted with Miss Lucy Brown. She had talked in the most lively and fascinating manner; she had told stories and sung songs. Among others, she had given Moore's boat song with the sweetest possible effect; and by the time they returned to the landing, it would hardly be too much to say that half the young men in the party were decidedly in love with her. A stern regard to truth requires a remark to be made |