Weekly hawk-eye and telegraph. [volume] (Burlington, Iowa) 1855-1857, 1855-07-25
Freq. Dscksn's lIonsehoid Word
fw0 urPHEWs

At the paTior win10w Of pretty wills
near WHisonon- Thames sat. one evening q
dusk, an old man and young woman. Th'
fags OF The man night be some seventy Mhis,
his comparion had certainly not reacsie,
nineteen. Her beautiful, blooming face AMI
active, light ard urrigh. fgure were II
/ strong contrast with the worn conntfuanct
and bent frame of the old man; but in hi,
eye, md in the corners Of his mouth wcrt
indications of gas saf-confaence. whics
age and suffering had dampsd, but not iex.
| tiEguished.
..No use looking any moro Mary" said he
sneither John Meade nor Peter Finch will be
here before dark. Very hard that, when 9
sick uncle asks bis TWO nephews to como AMI
see him, they can't come at once. The dut,
| is simple in the extreme, only to help ms
70 die, and take what choose to leave them
in my will Pooh! whsa / was a young
man, I'D have done it for my uncle with the
| utmost celebrity. But the worlds getting
quite heartiessw
| sob, STRIP said Mary.
sAnd what does sOh, Sir 2 mean p said he.
/ sD'ye think sha'n't die? know better
a little more, and there'li be an end Of Billy
| Collect. He'll have left this dirty world for
! a cleaner--to the great sorrow (and advant-
l aGs1UI us duSctlDDate FeldtlteS. OSu WV
me "A glass of the doctors stuff,
| The girl poured some medicine into q
glass, and Coll.tt, after having contemplated
for moment with infinite disgust, managed
to get il down.
i tell you what, Miss Mary sutton said
he, Il don't by any means approve of your
.0h SIR and Dear SIR aud the rest of it,
when Eye told you how hate to be. ca led
oil ~ ho
pectful if you were charity girl and | a
beadle in n gold-laced hat None of your
nonsense, Mary Sutton, if you please. Eve
months, and scu ought to know my likings
and di.lkings
'My poor father often told me how you
disliked ceremony said Mary.
your poor father told you quite right,
said Mr.. Colet. sFred Sutton was man of
talent capital fellow His only fault was
naturable inability to keep fartbing in
his pocket. Poor Fred he loved me--l'm
sure he did. He bequea,hrd me his only
child-and it isn't every friend who would
do that!'
"a kind and generous protector you have
been!'
well, don't knew; Eve tried not to be a
brute, but | dare say have been. Don't
speak roughly to you sometimes2 Haven't
| given you good, prudent worldly advice
about John Meade, and made myself quite
disagrecable, and like a guardian? Come,
confess you love this penniless nephew of
mine.'
sPenniless indecd!' said Mary.
'Ah, there it is = said Mr.. Collett. 'And
what business has poor devil Of an artist
to fall in love with my ward?' And what
business has my ward to fail in love with u
poor devil of an artist But that's Fred
Sutton's daughter all over! Hav'nt l two
nephews? Why couldn't you fall in love
with the discreet one-the thriving one?--
Peter Finch considering he's an attorney
is worthy young man. Ho is industrious in
the extreme, and attends to other peoples
business only when he's paid for it. He de-
spises sentiment, and always looks to the
main chance. But John Meade, my dear
Mary, may spoil canvass for ever and not
grow rich. He's all for art, and truth, and
social reform, and spiritual elevation, and
the Lord knows what. Peter Finch will ride
in his carriage, and splash poor John Meade
as he trudges on footn
The harangue was here interrupted by a
ring at the gate, and Mr.. Peter Finch was
announced. He had scarcely taken his seat
when another pull at the bell was heard, and
MIR. John Meade was announced.
Mr.. Collect eyed bis two nephews with a
queer sort of smile, while they made speeches
expressive OF sorrow at the nature Of their
visit. At last, stopping them,
Enough, boys, enoughv said he. Iet us
find some better subject to discuss than the
state of an old mans health. l want TO
know a little more about you both. hav'nt
seen much of you up to the present time,
and, for anything | know, you may be rogues
or FOOLS
John Meade seemed rather to vince under
this address; but Peter Finch sat calm and
confident,
sTo put case now,' said Mr.. Collect
sthis morning poor wretch of gardner
came begging here. He could get no work,
it seems, a d said he was starving. Well,
knew something about the fellow, aud be-
lieve he only told the truth; so gave him q
shilling, to get rid of him. Now, Pm afraid
did wrong. What reason had for giving
him shilling? What claim had he on me?
What claim has he on any body? The value
of his labor in the market is oil that work
ing man has a right to; and when his labor
is of no value, why then he must go to the
Devil or wherever else he can. Eth, Peter!
That's my philosophy do you think?'
Il quite agree W tn you, SIR said Mr..
Finch; perfectly agree with you. The val
ne of their labor in the market is all that Ia
borers can pretend to--all that they should
have. Nothing acts more perniciously than
the absurd extraneous support called charity.
Hear, hear!' said Mr.. Collect. You're a
clever fellow, Peter. Go on, my dear boy.
go on!'
'What results from charitable aid?' contin.
ued Peter. 'The value of labor is kept at or
unnatural level. State char ty is state rob.
berry: private charity is public wrong
THAT'S it, Peter!' said Mr.. Collect. sWhat
do you think of our philosophy, John?'
81 don't like it! don't believe ftp sale
John. 'You were quite right to give the
man shilling: I'd have given him shil
ling myself
| ooh, you would-would you?' said Mr.
Collect. you're very generous with you,
shillings. Would you fy in the face of al
orthodox political economy, you Vandal9'
| yes, said John: 'as the Vandals flew il
the face of Rome and destroyed what hac
become falsebood and nuisance.
sPoor John! said Mr.. Collett. eve shall
never make anything of him, Peter. Really
we'd better talk of something else. John
tell us about the last new novel;
They conversed on various topics until the
arrival of the invalid's early bedtime parted
uncle and nephews for the night.
Mary Sutton seized an opportunity the
next morning after breakfast to speak with
John Meade alone.
John. said she, sdo think more of YOU,
own interest-of our interest. What occa.
sion had you for to be so violent, last night
and contradict Mr.. Collect so shockincly?
saw Peter Finch laughing to himself. John
you must be more careful, or we shall neye,
be married.
well, Mary dear, III do my best sale
John. 'lt was that COMPOUNDED Peter. with
his chain of iron maxims, that made me fl,
out. I'm not an iceberg, Mary
sThank heaven, you're not! said Mary
sbut an iceberg hoats-think of that, John
kemember-every time you offend Mr.. Col
lett, you please Mr.. Finch
SO | do! said John. sYes; I'll remembe,
that.
IS you would only try to be little mear
and hard-hearted,' said Mary; siust little
to begin with. You would only stoop /,
conquer, John and you deserve to conquer.