Struggles and Triumphs · Chapter 3 (2/2)

[This was duly read and approved. “Now,” said Mallett, “try to touch her feelings. Remind her of the pleasant hours we have spent together”; and we continued as follows:]

My dear Lucretia, when I think of the many pleasant hours we have spent together⁠—of the delightful walks which we have had on moonlight evenings to Fenner’s Rocks, Chestnut Ridge, Grassy Plains, Wildcat, and Puppy-town⁠—of the strolls which we have taken upon Shelter Rocks, Cedar Hill⁠—the visits we have made to Old Lane, Wolfpits, Toad-hole and Plum-trees1⁠—when all these things come rushing on my mind, and when, my dear girl, I remember how often you have told me that you loved me better than anybody else, and I assured you my feelings were the same as yours, it almost breaks my heart to think of last Sunday night.

[“Can’t you stick in some affecting poetry here?” said Mallett. Shepard could not recollect any to the point, nor could I, but as the exigency of the case seemed to require it, we concluded to manufacture a verse or two, which we did as follows:]

Lucretia, dear, what have I done,

That you should use me thus and so,

To take the arm of Tom Beers’ son,

And let your dearest truelove go?

Miserable fate, to lose you now,

And tear this bleeding heart asunder!

Will you forget your tender vow?

I can’t believe it⁠—no, by thunder!

[Mallett did not like the word “thunder,” but being informed that no other word could be substituted without destroying both rhyme and reason, he consented that it should remain, provided we added two more stanzas of a softer nature; something, he said, that would make the tears come, if possible. We then ground out the following:]

Lucretia, dear, do write to Jack,

And say with Beers you are not smitten;

And thus to me in love come back,

And give all other boys the mitten.

Do this, Lucretia, and till death

I’ll love you to intense distraction;

I’ll spend for you my every breath,

And we will live in satisfaction.

[“That will do very well,” said Mallett. “Now I guess you had better blow her up a little more.” We obeyed orders as follows:]

It makes me mad to think what a fool I was to give you that finger-ring and bosom-pin, and spend so much time in your company, just to be flirted and bamboozled as I was on Sunday night last. If you continue this course of conduct, we part forever, and I will thank you to send back that jewelry. I would sooner see it crushed under my feet than worn by a person who abused me as you have done. I shall despise you forever if you don’t change your conduct towards me, and send me a letter of apology on Monday next. I shall not go to meeting tomorrow, for I would scorn to sit in the same meetinghouse with you until I have an explanation of your conduct. If you allow any young man to go home with you tomorrow night, I shall know it, for you will be watched.

[“There,” said Mallett, “that is pretty strong. Now I guess you had better touch her feelings once more, and wind up the letter.” We proceeded as follows:]

My sweet girl, if you only knew the sleepless nights which I have spent during the present week, the torments and sufferings which I endure on your account; if you could but realize that I regard the world as less than nothing without you, I am certain you would pity me. A homely cot and a crust of bread with my adorable Lucretia would be a paradise, where a palace without you would be a Hades.

[“What in thunder is Hades?” inquired Jack. We explained. He considered the figure rather bold, and requested us to close as soon as possible.]

Now, dearest, in bidding you adieu, I implore you to reflect on our past enjoyments, look forward with pleasure to our future happy meetings, and rely upon your affectionate Jack in storm or calm, in sickness, distress, or want, for all these will be powerless to change my love. I hope to hear from you on Monday next, and, if favorable, I shall be happy to call on you the same evening, when in ecstatic joy we will laugh at the past, hope for the future, and draw consolation from the fact that “the course of true love never did run smooth.” This from your disconsolate but still hoping lover and admirer,

The effect of this letter upon Lucretia, I regret to say, was not as favorable as could have been desired or expected. She declined to remove her handkerchief from her right hand and she returned the “ring and bosom-pin” to her disconsolate admirer, while, not many months after, Mallett’s rival led Lucretia to the altar. As for Mallett’s agreement to pay Shepard and myself five pounds of carpet rags and twelve yards of broadcloth “lists,” for our services, owing to his ill success, we compromised for one-half the amount.