“The old cat!  Well, I’d just as soon live on slapjacks a spell,” said Captain Ben, when he made this discovery.

But even slapjacks palled on his palate, especially when he had them always to cook for himself.

“’T ain’t no way to live, this ain’t,” said he at last.  “I’m a good mind to marry as ever I had to eat.”

So he put on his hat and walked out.  The first person he met was Miss Persis Tame, who turned her back and fell to picking thoroughwort blossoms as he came up.

“Look a here,” said he, stopping short, “I’m dreadful put to ’t.  I can’t get ne’er a wife nor ne’er a housekeeper, and I am e’enamost starved to death.  I wish you would consent to marry with me, if you feel as if you could bring your mind to it.  I am sure it would have been Lyddy’s wish.”

Miss Tame smelt of the thoroughwort blossoms.

“It comes pretty sudden on me,” she replied.  “I hadn’t given the subject any thought.  But you are to be pitied in your situation.”

“Yes.  And I’m dreadful lonesome.  I’ve always been used to having Lyddy to talk over things with, and I miss her a sight.  And I don’t know anybody that has her ways more than you have.  You are a good deal such a built woman, and you have the same hitch to your shoulders when you walk.  You’ve got something the same look to your eyes, too; I noticed it last Sunday in meeting-time,” continued the widower, anxiously.

“I do feel for you.  A man alone is in a deplorable situation,” replied Miss Tame.  “I’m sure I’d do any thing in my power to help you.”

“Well, marry with me then.  That is what I want.  We could be real comfortable together.  I’ll go for the license this minute, and we’ll be married right away,” returned the impatient suitor.  “You go up to Elder Crane’s, and I’ll meet you there as soon as I can fetch around.”

Then he hurried away, “without giving me a chance to say ‘no,’” said “she that was” Persis Tame, afterward.  “So I had to marry with him, as you might say.  But I’ve never seen cause to regret it, I’ve got a first-rate of a hum, and Captain Ben makes a first-rate of a husband.  And no hain’t he, I hope, found cause to regret it,” she added, with a touch of wifely pride; “though I do expect he might have had his pick among all the single women at the Point; but out of them all he chose me.”—­The Atlantic Monthly, March, 1870.

LOUISA MAY ALCOTT.

(BORN, 1832.)

* * * * *

STREET SCENES IN WASHINGTON.