FLIRTING IN EARNEST.
BY
B. W. DEWEES.
One bright, sunny, June morning, not many years ago, Nellie Maybee, a pretty, lively girl of eighteen, and the somewhat spoiled, only daughter of widower Maybee, was summoned before the paternal judgment bar, and the verdict being “guilty of paleness, want of appetite, and hard flirting,” she was sentenced to banishment among the green hills of Vermont, for a time expiring at the judge’s pleasure. In vain the fair culprit plead for an extenuation of the sentence, or even for a delay in its execution; in vain she urged that important business required her longer presence in Boston. For this business, on cross-questioning by the learned judge, proved to be only the completion of two flirtations. “One at such an interesting stage— just got as far as rose-buds—the other long past forget-me-nots, and within a few days of proposal point”—(so this saucy little flirt stated the case)—“and she did not see how her dear, indulgent papa could be so hard-hearted as to destroy all her innocent amusements so, indeed she did not.”
But the judge was firm; stern was his reiteration of the charge of hard flirting, and his determination to send her where this amusement would be impossible—to the plain farm house of one of his early friends.
Nellie was obliged to submit, but she took her honest, feminine revenge in sundry spiteful speeches, suoh as—“She should like to know when the law was made that girls shouldn’t flirt: for her part, she could not help flirting. It was a pretty girl’s normal state—it was a natural instinct, like hunting and fishing with men. And he should see all his crossness should not stop it—she would flirt still up in down East, even if it had to be with the bob-o’-links and tom¬tits.”
That Mr. Maybee was a man of nerve and indomitable firmness, is proved by the fact that Nellie, within a week, was immured in the desert social of farmer Wilson’s farm.
Mr. Wilson was, as I have said, an early friend of Mr. Moybee’s, they having been raised on neighboring farms; but while the latter, like most New England boys, had gone to the city, and won himself a name and fortune there, the former, with an old-fashioned easiness of temper, very unusual now-a-days, had settled down on the old homestead after he had got his schooling. It will very naturally be concluded, that Nel- lie found these good people, though worthy, rather slow. She sadly missed the various ex- s citements and amusements of town life, and found the only compliment she had as yet re- i ceived, farmer Wilson’s well meant remark, that “She was a fine, likely gal enough”—rather meagre fare after the feast of sweets to which her pampered palate had been accustomed. Besides, the sudden stoppage of all the delicate and complicated machinery by which flirtations are carried on, (for absolute want of grist to put in the mill,) occasioned a great jar among the mental wheels, followed by a fearful vacuum. She found herself in Othello’s admired situation with regard to occupation, but with no one to admire, or even pity her.
In time, however, being blessed with a fine flow of animal spirits, and being, with all her vanities, not quite without a soul, she was just learning to lift her eyes in reverent admiration to the beautiful hills among which she was dwelling—beginning to acquire a new sense, so to speak, that of the appreciation of the charms of nature—when presto! all these newly-acquired faculties were dissipated, and the natural instincts reinstated, as in the case of the metamorphosed cat in the fable, by the unexpected appearance of a legitimate object of the chose— I mean, that she one day chanced to catch a glimpse of a tall, handsome man as he bounded over a fence at the back of the house, and then entered rather stealthily by the side door. He was sun-browned, indeed, and clad in simple, country fashion; but, that he was no mere country clown, even the most hasty glance attested. His features were delicate and refined, and his noble brow bore the stamp of intellect. Nellie decided at once that he was worthy to be looked after, and immediately instituted inquiries as to who, and what he was. Judge of her surprise on being told that he was, and had been from the first, an inmate of the same house with herself He was the son of her host, but from excessive timidity, or rather bashfulness, s the country-bred youth had preferred to take all his meals by himself, and to skulk in and out
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