The Nashville Daily Union

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SUNDAY
MORNING, SEPT. 21, 1862

How I First
Met my Wife

A SHORT LOVE STORY,

There was always a mystery hanging
about a certain way that Morgan had, and
in which he was always joined honestly by
his wife—my own cousin—May Stevens
that had been—a way that troubled my
curiosity much, until the one eventful
evening that I was satisfied by hearing
the reason why.

It was simply this: that every time a
word was spoken that led to the period
when Charley Morgan first met my cousin
May, they would both laugh very heartily,
but would always refused to tell at what
they laughed. This was certainly very
provoking, and I had little hesitation in
telling them so—not once, but many
times—at which they laughed more
heartily than ever, and always ended by
kissing each other and looking very affectionate.

I determined to have a solution of the
matter, if for no other reason than it
worried me. I am but a woman, and
having pleaded to the possession of curiosity, I see no reason why sometimes it
should not be indulged. With this resolution, I set forth one evening, when we
three, Morgan, May, and myself, were
drawn up before the fire and fairly settled for a talk. There was no mincing
matters, was my first idea, and with
this thought I dashed boldly in with:

Mr. Morgan'—I usually call him
Charley, but I was desirous of showing
that I was really in earnest—'Mr. Morgan, why do you always laugh and look
at May when the subject of your first
meeting with her is spoken of?'

This. I was sure, was a simple question; and yet, instead of answering it in
a simple way, they went back. both of
them, on the old plan, and laughed as
though the words I had just spoken were
the very best joke in the world. I could
do nothing of course, but look grave and
solemn, which in a few moments brought
them both to looking the same way, and
then May spoke to me seriously. and
said:

"Cousin Jane, you take our laughing
much more earnestly than I thought you
would. It is only a little memory between Charley and I that brings the
laugh; to us it is a droll remembrance,
but perhaps in telling it there would be
nothing to amuse any one."

This explanation brought back my
good humor in an instant. and with a
smile I said

"Now, May, this is really unkind of
you, for so long have you excited my curiosity, that 'even were the story not
worth telling, you should tell it."

"Well, cousin Jane shall have that story, May; I will tell it myself to her."

At this declaration I was surprised to
see May flush up to a bright red, and
break out rather vehemently with:

'No, Charley, that is really too bad!
You shall not do it. sir. If cousin Jane
is to have the story, I will tell her myself'—and then after a pause she said—'when
we are alone.'

'You shall do no such thing. Madame
May,' was Charley's laughing response:
'you shall do no such thing. This time I
shall have my way, and cousin Jane shall
not have her curiosity excited any more
without being satisfied.'

I saw there was to be a discussion on
that point, but I knew that in some way
Charley was to come off victor: so I.
merely saying that I would be back in
a few minutes, stepped out of the room
and walked about the garden until I felt
sure the point was settled, when I went
back and found Charley and May looking as happy as birds, and laughing the
old laugh as usual. As I entered Charley drew up the rocking chair, and after
seeing me safely deposited in its depths,
said

'Now, cousin Jane, I shall tell you the
story about how I first met my wife:

'It is just five years ago this summer
that I was granted exemption for a month
from my desk, and went down with my
chum, Horace Hyatt, to his father's in
old Monmouth, the garden of that unjustly
abused State, New Jersey. I should
never have forgotten that visit, even
though I had not there met with an adventure that had its influence on the
whole future of my life. I should remember it for the real, true hospitality,
the solid, old-time comfort of the farm,
and the quiet way in which, within a
couple of days after my arrival, I was
put in possession of it and made to feel
that it all belonged to me to do just what
I pleased with. There were plenty of
fish, and we fished: plenty of woodcock,
and we shot. All this shall be spoken
of with a proviso. I say we—by which,
let it be understood, I do not mean Horace's twin sisters, Carrie and Nettie, as
having participated in all these sports.
They rode, to be sure, and charmingly
they did it; they fished, and I am
obliged to confess they were much luckier
than their guest. But they did not
shoot, though I shall not exult over their
lack of this accomplishment—they were
charming enough without it. I am sure
I shall excite no jealousy by declaring
with one exception, which I shall not
mention here. Carrie and Nettie Hyatt
were the most charming girls I had ever
seen; and I was just hesitating as to
which of them I should fall desperately
in love with, when my calculations were
all disturbed by an accident—for so I
suppose I must call it—though really
seeming like a special Providence. What
this was, I shall tell in the best way I
know how.

"For some days after my arrival at
the farm, my curiosity had been much
excited by the occasional panegyrics lavished by the young ladies upon a once
schoolmate of their own, May Stevens
by name. who was, according to their
highly colored account, the most perfect
thing in the shape of a woman then living. I tried to persuade myself that
nothing in that line could surpass Nettie and Carrie: but still the reputation of
this May Stevens haunted me, and came
like a shadow across my new-born passion, I formed at last an imaginary May
Stevens: and do what I would, the figure
was with me. At last I was worked into
an agony of curiosity, and trembled with
some great purpose which should bring
before me the object of my thoughts and
of the two sisters' continual conversation. In what this would have ended
it in impossible for me to say. had I not heard, one morning as I entered the breakfast room the startling words from Nettie:

'And so she is coming at last. I'm so
glad!"

Whether it was that the train of my
thoughts was upon that point at the
moment, I cannot say : but I knew directly the whole matter. I saw Carrie
with an open letter in her hand, and
coupling it with Nettie's words, I knew
that the hitherto only a heard-of May
Stevens was about to become a reality.
I had no need to ask questions. All the
information was proffered. May Stevens
—the incomparable May—was to spend
a month at Hyatt's, and they were to
expect her at any moment, though, as
the letter read. she might not be down
for a week to come. A week !it was
an age, a century : and I was in a flutter
of excitement. My long standing passion, of nearly two weeks' duration. for
Carrie and Nettie was forgotten in an instant, and my whole mind was absorbed
in making the best figure possible before this new queen. With this idea I
began to look into my wardrobe. I had
come down with sufficient clothes to answer all ordinary purposes, including, of
course. Carrie and Nettie: but the new
goddess was certainly worth a new rig
on my part, and certainly should have
it. This resolution was made within
fifteen minutes after hearing the announcement of her intended coming. and before two hours had gone by, I was whizzing on my way to town to carry out that resolve. My choicest morsel of wardrobe should be offered at the shrine of May
Stevens.

'I had absented myself on the plea of
a sudden memory of a business neglected. and faithfully promised Nettie and
Carrie that the next day should see me
down at Hyatt's again, to stay out the
month that May Stevens, the wonderful
was about to—pass with them.

The racking of brain that day to
create a grand assemblage of costume—something beyond all criticism, that should
at the first glance strike the beholder
with silent admiration—was indeed terrible. The labor of writing "Paradise
Lost," was nothing to it. It was early
in the morning when I arrived at my
city rooms, and for six hours I dressed
and re-dressed. compared and rejected
and selected. I and at the end of that
time I had laid out those portions of my
wearable goods in which I had decided
to make my first appearance before May
Stevens. It wanted still several hours to
sunset. Having got safely through the
great object of my visit I thought it
would not be a bad idea for me to take
the last train and return the same night
to Hyatt's instead of remaining over
till morning. No sooner said than done.
I packed my habiliments and away I
went. Whizzing and puffing over an
uninteresting road is provocation of sleep.
So I found it when the shades of evening
fell; for to the best of my recollection, I
was in the very midst of a dream. in
which May Stevens, attired in book muslin
and pale blue satin. appeared on a
purple cloud, and admiringly inquired
who my tailor was? Just as I was
about to inform her there came a crash,
and for a moment I was not certain whether it was the cloud that had exploded
or whether it was not myself that had
torn a portion of my apparel that was
overstrained. It required but a moment
to awaken me to the fact that both presumptions were wrong. It was our train
—2.26—that had run off the track.
smashing things generally, and spilling
the contents of several baggage cars
along the road, to say nothing of
frightening half a hundred passengers
into a condition bordering on lunacy.
This was a pretty state of things, and
to make it still worse, I was eight miles
from my destination, though as it afterwards appeared. not a mile from the
next village where, I heard it canvassed,
a tavern, supper, and beds could be
had

I was disposed to make myself agreeable, and accordingly rendered all the
assistance in my power to the unprotected. for which I got my reward on
arriving at the haven of refuge—the promised tavern—by being informed that
such a thing as a bed for the night was
an impossible idea, and with some twenty
more of the male gender, I must be content with chairs while the beds were appropriated to the gentler sex. Slightly
disgusted, I swallowed my supper and
looked out upon the night. It was a
beautiful moonlight, and verging on to ten
o'clock.
By
Jove, I would walk over
to Hyatt's. No sooner said than done.
Giving my carpet bag into the hands of
the landlord, with the most emphatic
charges for its safety and punctual delivery at Hyatt's next morning at my
expense, set forth. Eight miles is a trifle, and just as my watch marked the
quarter after midnight I went up the lane
that led to the house. They were early
folks at the farm—early to bed and early
up. I walked round the house trying
each entrance, but each and every one
was fastened. It was of no consequence,
my bedroom window looked out upon
the roof of the piazza : I would not disturb the house by knocking: a bit of
climbing would do the business, and
should the window be fastened, I would
awaken Horace, who was my room-mate
and bed-fellow. The thing was executed as soon as thought of, and my hand
on the window, which yielded, and I
stood in my own room By the moonlight
which streamed in I saw that the bed
was occupied, and by the heavy breathing I knew that Horace was in a heavy
sleep. I would not. therefore, awaken
him, but save the story of my mishap for
the following day. With this resolution
I slipped quietly into bed, and in three
minutes was oblivious. What ought I
to have dreamed that night? But I shall
not anticipate. I lay facing the windows
as the sun peeped up above the distant
hills and scattered the gray mists of the
morning. My bedfellow was breathing
heavily, but it was broad daylight and
there was no more sleep in me. so I was
determined Horace should wake up and
hear the story of the railroad breakdown.
I turned quickly and gave the sleeper a
sudden shake. As rapidly as my own
motion, my bedfellow. who had laid with
his back toward me, sprang to a sitting
position. There are such surprises as are
without a terror, which actually deprive
us of our speech until the brain had time
to act and reason. Such surprises do
not generate screams and faints. They
are expressed by open-mouthed and silent wonder. This was the case with
myself and bedfellow. as we sat upright
and started Right by my side, with
her face within two feet of my own, sat
a young woman not more than seventeen,
with great, dark, hazel eyes, and such
great masses of brown curls tucked away
under the neatest little nightcap that
ever was. She had gathered the bed-
clothes with a spasmodic jerk, right under her throat, and with the most rigid,
astonished look, as though doubting
whether she was sleeping or waking,
gazed steadily in my eyes. Memory
serves a man but little in such a case,
but if my memory serves me right, it
was I who first spoke. I blurted out
with:

'How came you here?

The figure stared still in speechless astonishment, but in a moment, as though
awakened from its stupefaction, spoke

'Are you Charles Morgan?"

Well, then, Mr. Morgan,' said the figure, by this time calm, and with quite as
much dignity as though in the drawing-
room, 'I am May Stevens, and I was put
in this room after an unexpected arrival.
Horace had gone over to a neighbor's. a
few miles off, before I got here, and was
not to return till to-day. That is how I
was put in this room.'

So here I was sitting vis-à-vis to this
May Stevens, that mythical lady. for
the first meeting with whom I had intended to get up such a superlative toilet.
A nice style of introduction, and a nice
style of toilet! And she—she by this
time was cool as the 1st of December.
and sat looking me right in the eyes as I
made some rambling explanation of my
being in that extraordinary position. It
was a lame explanation, wonderfully
mixed up with irrelevant matter, and
stammered and stuttered through in a
way that should have disgusted any sensible person. She seemed to be seriously pondering during the recital, and at its
end, looking at me as though asking
the most simple question in the world.
said:

'What's to be done?'

'Let me jump out of the window as I
came in,' said I, in a sickly tone of voice,
for the thought came to me that to achieve this end I must make some desperate display of myself in a style of costume
which I deprecated. She relieved me instantly with:

No, that will not do, there are people moving about, and you will be seen.'

It was now my turn to stammer out:

'What's to be done? For I saw that
the little hazel-eyed girl was superior to
me in presence of mind and energy of
action. She did not wait long to answer
my question.

You must lie still here while I get up
When I have left the room you can rise,
dress and go away at the first opportunity,' was her response, delivered in a
quiet, business-like manner.

And so I did. Under May. Stevens
command I buried my intruding head
in the bed-clothes and kept it well covered till I heard the retreating footsteps
on the stairs, which was but a few moments, though it seemed an age; then,
with a desperate bound, I sprang from
the bed and turned the key on the departed one. It was the quickest dressing
I ever made, and I will venture to say that no man ever sneaked out of his own
apartments more stealthily than I did.
That morning we met. May Stevens
and I at the breakfast table—in the character of the newly arrived that morning
—and were formally introduced, during
the ceremony of which we astonished
every one present, and planted a thorn
of wonder in the sides of Nettie and
Carrie by bursting simultaneously into a
hearty laugh, which we never fail to repeat when the memory of our first meeting comes up

And now, Cousin Jane
you have the whole story of how I first
met my wife.