Graham's Magazine, Vol. XLI, No. 5, November 1852Various
General
Graham's Magazine, Vol. XLI, No. 5, November 1852
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
And if this little window high up in the old house smiled radiantly upon
all the dusty wanderers who came out of London so far in search of “a
mouthful of air,” the elect bridegroom, still balancing the poker there,
could tell you with what special radiance it looked all down the road on
him. That part of the story is what he is now recalling. How in summer
mornings, sunny and still, he used to rise with the lark; how, hours
before he could display the advantages of those operations, he got
himself starched and pomatumed one or two degrees beyond good taste,
perhaps, as he doubts now; but then some anticipation was to be made for
the damages of a two hour’s walk. How at the earliest moment, almost
breakfastless--for his heart by this time had overrun his stomach--he
started off to spend the blessed day of rest with Jessy, to take Jessy
to church. Jessy owned the bright brown eyes and the locks of bright
brown hair: a compact little goddess of eighteen--a laughing, blooming,
deep-hearted and very sensible little goddess, whom to worship were
honor; and she used sometimes to peep through the branches of the
geraniums on such Sunday mornings, to see whether her “dear boy” were
coming; for the little window was the window of her chamber. Jessy
innocently imagined that her dear boy had never caught her peeping; she
was mistaken; and the bridegroom smiles very grimly, _for_ a bridegroom,
as he remembers that fact. And how, having walked his last mile
leisurely--for, from a foolish pride, he wished Jessy to believe that
the coach had conveyed him to the end of the road, and therefore
endeavored to make his appearance as cool as possible--how, having
walked his last mile leisurely, and flaunted the dust from his clothes,
he suddenly turned an angle, and coming at once in sight, distinguished
at the distance of a quarter-mile whether she looked for his coming. If
so, though pretending not to see her, all the graces of which he was
master were at once put in requisition, up to the last opportunity in a
graceful rat-tat-tat at the door.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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