MAY 2 
MOORE’S RURAL fJEW-YORKER. 
IN A CROWD. 
BV AUGUST NOON. 
Oh, was It wise or right? 
I saw him, and I loved him at first sight 
He smiled, the gleaming of those teeth so white, 
The flashing of those eyes so black and bright 
Thrilled me and tilled me with a strange delight 
I never felt before. 
Oh, golden-headed was the cane lie boro ! 
And perfect fitting was the coal be wore— 
Glossy and fine, and fresh from tailor's store! 
Could reasonable mortal ask for more ? 
Yet more I had to prove 
This perfect creature worthy of my love. 
His diamond buttons glowed with every move 
/ nd lit his glistening linen.—while above 
His dainty pale pink necktie, like a dove. 
Nestled his dimpled chin, 
Clean-shaven, with tile bather’s nicest art; 
On either side curled whiskers flowed apart 
To captivate my feeble woman's heart. 
Oh, young alTectlon, thou art quick to start,— 
Presumptuous strong at best! 
The swaying crowd propelled me to his breast, 
My kindling eye my happiness expressed; 
A circling arm around my waist, was pressed 
For one brief moment—ah, you know the rest— 
’Twos tn a twinkling wrought. 
No skilled policeman e'er the villain caught. 
Although my cries with bitterness were fraught; 
“Stop thief! stop thief!’’ did but result in nought. 
All vainly through the crowd that form I sought, 
Upon my Ups a curso— 
For he was gone, and with him went my purse! 
Whioli loss, bethink you, makes me feel the worse ? 
My purse contained my worldly treasure—all; 
And yet beside my wrath its horde is small. 
#ur $torg-2I^r. 
A PERSECUTED MAN; 
OR, THE WIDOW AND THE BACHELOR. 
BY EBEN E. KEXKORD. 
Mu. Bumble — Timothy Bumble, bachelor, 
from Spadunk—sat in his room, the very pic¬ 
ture of despair. That morning ho had arrived 
at the mansion of his newlw-marriod brother, 
on a visit of a week or two. He hid felt some 
presentiment of evil from the time he began to 
talk of making the visit; something had Im¬ 
pressed him with a vague sense of danger. As 
he ascended the steps that morning ho had not 
dreamed what the danger consisted in, nor 
how near, how very near, it was. 
Now lie knew. 
“ It's a widow I” groaned Mr. Bumble. 
“A widow!" 
Evidently Mr. Bumble hadn’t any par¬ 
ticular love for widows. 
“Here I am, an innocent, unsuspect¬ 
ing man," went on Mr. Bumble dole¬ 
fully. “John, who’s put his foot In it 
by getting married. Invites me down to 
see how rnuoh like fools he and his wife 
cau act, and I, like a fool, come down. 
T hardly step my foot inside tho door 
before John tolls me that there’s some 
one else corning —his dear Belinda’s 
sister, a widow, and such a nice woman, 
and I Bee through tt all lu a minute. It’s 
all a plot! They’ve got me down here 
for her to marry ! Yes, for her to marry.'* 
Mr. Bumble shivered at the thought. , 
He was tn a cold sweat all over. \ 
“And now she’s here!" Mr. Bumble 
shook his flat at something In the cor¬ 
ner—an Imaginary widow, probably; / . 
“ she’s here, and I'll be persecuted and y > 
pestered from morning to night. She 
knows wnat. John and his wife have got A 
into their heads, and Is willing to help 
'em along in their wickedness. I wish,” 
Air. Bumble waxed eloquent In his ges- 
tures with his earnestness on the sub- t J 
ject, “I wish there was a law abolishing w 
widows. I do, I swear I do!" 
" Bravo for you, Tim !” laughed his 
brother John, sticking his head in at \ 
the door. “I’ll tell you how you can , ' 
begin the reform and abolish this one. 
Just marry her!” And John withdrew, r^Vv, 
laughing, _W 
“ Yes, you’ve made a fool of yourself 
by getting married, and want other 
folks to. on the principle that misery 
loves company," declared Mr. Bumble, 
blowing his nose explosively. “Of 
course the first thing when I go down 
they’ll introduce me. Hang it all 1 1 ^ 
wish I’d staid to home. It does make 
me out of patience to see people make X 
such fools of themselves!" 
John came back pretty soon. “Are 
you ready to go down ?" he asked. 
“ Yes, I s’pose bo,” answered poor Mr. ^ 
Bumble, not very graciously. “But I 0 
tell you what it is, JOHN, I won’t marry 
her." 0 $ 
John laughed outright. “You seem 
to think getting married about the worst 
fate a man can have happen to him. 1 
think it about the best." 
“ Yes, you," exclaimed Mr. Bumble, 
explosively. “Of course you'll say so 
now; but wait—just wait!" very sol¬ 
emnly and with awful impresslyeness, 
“ Well, I’ll wait,” replied John. “ Come on, 
if you’re ready.” 
Mr. Bumble groanod and followed his brother 
down like a lamb led to the sacrifice. He be¬ 
gan to tremble before he reached the parlor 
door. He remembered, afterward, of seeing 
something in the shape of a woman rise up as 
they entered the room, and of hearing John 
say, “Mrs. Blake, my brother. Timothy.” 
And the shape swooped down upon him like a 
hawk upon a dove, and for ten minutes there¬ 
after nil was a blank. 
When ho regained his scattered senses—It 
always served him in the same way to be Intro¬ 
duced to a woman, especially a widow she 
was talking away at an awful rate, and he was 
sitting before her with his hands folded meek¬ 
ly, in beoomlng resignation. At first he didn’t 
dare to look at her; but after his first awe be¬ 
gan to subside ho stole a glanco or two at her. 
Tho Investigation made him tremble. She 
wasn't one of your cooing, gentle widows, but 
one or the strong-minded class. He felt sure 
of it. And bv-and-by—how, he never knew— 
she began to talk woman's rights. 
“I do think,” declared Mrs. Blake, laying 
her hand on Mr. Bumble's knee by way of em¬ 
phasis, and causing the poor man to flinch ter¬ 
ribly, “I do think that wo poor females have 
rights which you men are bound to respect.” 
Mrs. Blake looked straight at Mr. Bumble as 
she said this, ns if daring him to deny it. 
“ Undoubtedly," responded Mr. Bumble, fee¬ 
bly, feeling that something was expected of 
him. 
“Yes, undoubtedly," repeated Mre. Blake. 
“I think you are sensible in making that, ad¬ 
mission, Mr. Bumble, and I like you for It.” 
Mr. Bumble wished he had said that they 
had more rights now than they knew how to 
tako care oir, but he knew that lie hadn't 
moral courage to say any such thing. The 
widow kept, him there all the afternoon. It 
was torment, to him, but he couldn't get away. 
“ Dear!" exclaimed the poor man that night, 
in the solitude of his chamber, “I’m afraid 
she’ll get me cornered up and marry tnc.” 
His sleep was haunted with widows. One 
leaned down from the headboard to pull his 
hair and one shook her flst at him from tho 
footboard, while another leaned over the side 
of the bed and requested him, in dulcet tones, 
to kiss her. That woke Mr. Bumble up, and 
not another wink of sleep did ho got that night. 
“ Oh, Mr. Bumble ! ” cried tho widow,* at 
breakfast, “Belinda says they have tho pret¬ 
tiest view from the hill beyond the meadow, 
and I want to see it. Won't you go with mo 
this morning? " 
Poor Mr. Bumble consented, because he 
didn’t dare to do otherwise. 
“I’m in for it, ho groaned,” as ho wont up 
stairs to get his duster. “I liopo she won’t 
propose before we get back. If she should-” 
Mr. Bumble was horrified at the prospect. 
Ho never had thought of such a thing before. 
But this widow was strong-minded and believed 
in “rights." Might not the right to propose 
be one of them ? And If she should propose 
lie knew he never should dare to say no. 
If ever any one doaerved canonization as a 
martyr, Mr. Bumble did that day. Every hour 
was n week, and she Insisted on dragging him 
about the whole forenoon. At last she was 
ready to go home, and the poor bachelor began 
to revive as the distance between them and 
the house grow less. 
As they were returning across t he pasture, a 
cow which had been feeding In the further 
corner saw them and came running toward 
them. Mrs. Blake was terrified and fled to 
Mr. Bumble for protection. 
“Sho won't hurt you!” said Mr. Bumble, 
oomfortlngly, edging away from the widow, 
who, ho was afraid, contemplated a raid on him 
under tho plea of fright. “ Shoo, boss ! Shoo ! ” 
The cow didn’t choose to “shoo," but came 
nearer. 
“Ob!" shrieked Mrs. Blake, flinging her 
arms about the poor inan, “save met ” 
“You old brute!" exclaimed Mr. Bumble, 
making a terrible effort to free himself from 
the widow’s clutches: let us hope, for tho sake 
of his gallantry, that, his exclamation ha<l ref¬ 
erence to the cow. “ You old brute! I'll see 
if you'll stand there shaking voui head at me !" 
and thereupon he charged at the animal so 
furiously that she made an inglorious retreat. 
“How shall I over repay you?" cried the 
widow. “ I feel tbut I owe you my life, and my 
life-long gratit ude is yours! " 
“ Don’t," said Mr. Bumble, evidently greatly 
touched at her exhibition of gratefulness. 
“ 'Talri't worth speaking of. You’re welcome, 
I'm sure." 
" I wish you’d let mo loan upon your arm,’' 
said Mrs. BLAKE, faintly; l feel so weak—I can 
hardly walk. I don't know but I shall faint. 
Oh !" 
Mr. Bumble was aghast at the prospect of a 
fainting widow on his hands. Ilo grabbed off 
his straw hat and began to fan her furiously. 
Presently slm said that she felt better, and took 
possession of his arm, and they set out for 
home, which was reached after many halts and 
much suffering on the part ot Mr. Bumble. 
“ It s getting desperate," said tho persecuted 
man to himself, as bo reviewed the events of 
the day and looked tho situation boldly In the 
face. “A widow ’ll bring things to a crisis In 
no time. I wish I was going home to-morrow.” 
The next evening there was a party at a neigh- 
Kl 
% 3 
ivn a. "sr. 
bor’s, and John and Belinda and Mrs. Blake 
and Mr. Bumble attended. Mr. Bumble sup¬ 
posed, as it was such a short distance, that they 
would all walk homo together; but Belinda 
got a chance to ride, aud consequently Mr. 
Bumble was loft to the painful duly of seeing 
the widow home. 
“Such a beautiful night,” she declared, as, 
“clinging closer than a-brother," they sallied 
out. " How forcibly I am reminded of the time 
when dear Mr. Blake walked home with me 
from a party, before wo were married." 
Tho widow gave signs of being about to dis¬ 
solve into tours. Mr. Bum ui.e could stand any¬ 
thing better than tears, and he made a desper¬ 
ate effort to ward off tho threatened calumiiy. 
“ Have you ever been up to Spadunk ?" be 
asked, grasping at the first Idea t hat, came iuto 
his head, as drowning men dutch at straws. 
“No, never!" exclaimed Mrs. Blake, with a 
closer grip of his arm. “ But L would like to 
no much. Belinda says sho knows I would 
like It up there." 
"I'd like to have you come up," said Mr. 
Bumble, at a loss to think of anything else to 
say, and determined that the conversation 
should not. revert, to the dear departed Mr. 
Blake. 
"Would you, now, really, Mr. Bumble?" ask¬ 
ed the widow, smiling into his face. “ You men 
are so—so fond of teasing us poor women, you 
know, that wo can hardly ever tell wheu you’re 
in earnest. But. I do believe you'ro in earnest 
this time. I would like to come up and sec you, 
1 nssure you." 
“ I put my foot in it, this time,” groaned tho 
bachelor. “ She’ll propose before weget borne.” 
Then aloud, ho added, “ Yes, I'd like to have 
you and Belinda conic up and stay os long as 
you Ilka.” 
“What if 1 should like to stay for life,” 
laughed tho widow. “OhI" suddenly appear¬ 
ing to notice wlmtshe had said, “ I'm no impul¬ 
sive, Mr. Bumble, that I never stop to think. 
What run you think of rue?” 
Mr. BUM ui.e tried to say something, but the 
words stuck In Ills throat, and produced only 
an unintelligible sound. 
“You wish 1 would? Was that what you 
said, Mr. Bumble?" exclaimed the widow, 
archly. “ Ob, Mr. Bumble ! Did you really 
mean that?" 
“ I I didn't say it,” exclaimed tho suffering 
man, driven to desperation. “ You—you mis¬ 
understood me, ma’am.” 
“Oh, did I? Excise me, do," pleaded tho 
widow; “ how could I havebeon so mistaken?” 
Mr. Bumble didn't remember the Incidents 
of tho walk very clearly when ho reached home. 
He tried to shake her off at the parlor door, 
but she wasn’t to be got rid of that. way. 
“,Come In and sit down, Mr. Bumble, 
do," she urged. And Mr. Bumble, curs¬ 
ing himself all t,lm while for being such 
a fool, allowed her to draw him Into the 
parlor, after the fashion of tho fly and 
the spider, and there he sat and suffered 
for three mortal hours. More t han mice 
he thought the Important moment had 
come, and that she was about to pro¬ 
pound the awful question. But some¬ 
thing-Providence, he called It—helped 
him to avert, the awful fate which must 
have been his, If she had spoken, and ho 
congratulated himself, as ha reached his 
chamber, that, he w;»s still spared to free¬ 
dom a little while. 
Ho went to bed and dreamed. Ho 
thought Mrs. Blake came and Informed 
him that she was going to nmrry him the 
next day at precisely hair-past ton. It 
was terribly real. He woke up in a cold 
^ and clammy perspiration. Hours passed 
before he slept, and then he dreamed. 
This time he thought that ho ran away 
to escape hlsawful doom, and the widow 
followed him and overtook him. “Oh, 
you naughty man!” she cried, putting 
her arms around his neck; “you foolish 
man ! to th<nk you could get away from 
a woman so easily, when slic’d made up 
her mind to marry you.” And then she 
fell to kissing him, and he woke up with 
a scream and found himself sitting bolt 
^ upright in bed, with a pillow clutched 
in his hands as a defence against, his per¬ 
secutor. He got up and dressed himself. 
“I’m going to get out of this,” ho 
groaned. “ I won't stay another day for 
any money. It ain’t safe.” 
Ten minutes afterward some one 
knocked at John’s chamber door. 
“ Who’s there ?” he demanded. 
~ “ Me—T imothy,” answered Mr. Bum¬ 
ble. 
John got up and came to the door to 
And out what the matter was. 
“ I’m going home,” declared Mr. Bum¬ 
ble. “The train goes in fifteen min- 
^ utes. I thought I’d tell you I was going, 
so you wouldn't feel alarmed.” 
“ But, TiMOTn y-” 
“ ’Taiu't no use,” said Mr. Bumble, 
resolutely; “1 wouldn't stay for any¬ 
thing. I’m going now. Take care of 
yourself. Good bye,” and Mr. Bumble 
was off. 
He half expected to be overtaken by 
the widow, and didn’t feel safe till he 
had reached home. 
“Did you enjoy yourself?” asked the 
old housekeeper, as she got him some¬ 
thing to eat. “ 1 cm look all worn out.” 
“ I be,” said Mr. Bumble, “ I tell you, 
Betsey, I’m never going away from' 
