The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1861-09-19
AND THEN.


taciturnty had obtained for him the familia
cognomen of Two Words. Mr.. Canute, AHA
Two Words, dwelt on the outskirts of the vii
lage, tended by an ancient housekeeper, almos
as chary of speech as her master. 1t was sur
missed that Mr.. Canute had seen better days. TO-
though his means were Strengthened, his hear
was large, and his countenance expressed grea
Ibenevolence. Notwithstanding the brief mode
of speech which characterized him on all occa-
sions, the advice of Mr.. Canute was eagerly
sought for on every subject wherein it was pre-
sumed advice could be profitable; and the sim
pie rustics of Ambermead perhaps valued it the
more BECAUSE though delivered without par
ticle of pomposity, the terseness and decision
ofthe words left an indelible impression which
long sermons often fail to convey. Mr.. Canute
lived on terms ofintimacy with the family at the
old Hall--an intimacy cemented by daily asso~
citation, for Mr.. Harwell and Mr.. Canute had
been schoolfellows and when long and lin
gering illness attacked the Squire, his ancient
crony and friend felt deep anxiety as to the
ultimate fate of Mr.. Harwell's only child, the
good and lovely Clara Harwell The disease
was an incurable one; though the suffering
might be protracted, there no hope of ulti-
mate recovery,and an air of gloom reigned over
the village of Ambermead, where once the
spring and summer tide brought only sport and
| glee. Ambemead was noted for profusion Of
rich red roses, exhaling in delicious fragrance;
and for the songs of innumerable nightingales,
whose harmonious concerts resounded amid the
outrageous groves shsltering the hamlet on
every side and extending beyond the old Hall
OF Ambermead. But now, although the roses
bloomed and the birds sang, serious faces look
ed from the cottage doors; and while the young
er villagers forgot their usual pastimes, the
elders conversed apart in whispers, always di-
recting their glances towards the Hail, as il
the sufferer within those thick walls could be
disturbed by their conversation. This sympa-
thy was called forth, not only by Mr. Harwell
being their ancestral landlord, the last of an
| impoverished race, but from his always having
lived among them as friend and neighbor-re-
| spected as superior and beloved as an equal
Their knowledge, also, of the Squirrels decayed
fortunes and that, on his death, the fine old
place must become the property of stranger,
whom rumor did not report favorably of great.
ly enhanced the concern of these hereditary cul,
tivators of the soil; and many bright eye grew
dim thinking of poor Miss Clara, who would
soon be fatherless and almost penmless. The
estate of Ambermead was strictly entailed in
the male line, and the next heir was of distant
kin to the Harwells A combination of misfol
tunes and no doubt of imprudence in years
long by-gone, had reduced the present proprie-
tor to the verge of ruin, from which he was to
find refuge only in the grave. The Harwell
family had lived for centuries in Ambermead
They seemed SO much to belong to their poor
neighbors, who always sympathized most fully
in all the joys and sorrows of the Hall folk
that now, when there was a certain prospect of
losing them forever, as it seemed, the parting
became more than common one between land
lord and tenant, between rich and poor-it was
the parting of endeared friends
They watched and waited for Mr. Canuta
pass ing to and fro,as he did every day and more
than once day and on his two words they
hung, as if life or death were involved in that
short bulletin.
How is the Squire to-day!' asked one.
No better, replied Mr., Canute, mild with
out stopping.
And how's Miss Clara inquired another,
with deep pity in his looks.
Very patient responded the old man, still
moving slowly on with the aid of his stout
staff.
PATIENT repeated sevetal voices, when he
was out OF hearing Yes, Yes, patient enough ;
and Master Canute means great deal when
he says patient. Bless her young sweet face
there's patience in it if there ever was in any
mortal's.
Mr.. Canute's patience was sorely taxed by
questions at all hours, he was waylaid first by
one anu then by another Oh the way from his
own cottage to the Hall but with unfailing good
nature and promptitude, he invariably satisfied
the atiectionate solicitude of his humble neigh
bors-ln his own quaint way, certainy-never
wasting words, yet perfectly understood
The summer tide faded into autumn, and the
Squire of Ambermead faded more gradually
than autumn leaves, when late one evening a
wayfarer stopped at Mr. Canute's cottage, which
was on the roadside, and requested permission
to rest, asking draft OF water from the we'll be-
fore the porch.
Most welcome, said Two Words, scanning
the stranger, and pleased with his appearance,
for youth and an agreeble countenance are sure
passports perhaps too, Mr.. Canute discerned
gentle breeding in his guest, despite travel
stained habliments, and dash of habitual reck
lessness in his air. At any rate, the welcome
was heartily given aud as heartily responded
to; and when Mr.. Canute left his dwelling, in
order to pay his usual evening visit to the
Hall, he merely said, addressing his young Wis
itor, Soon back, and turning to Martha, the
careful housekeeper, added, Get supper 'while
on stepping over the threshold, second Thoughts
urged him to return and say to the young man,
Don't CO.
No, that WON'T replied he frankly /; for
like my quarters too we'll. I'll wait till you
come back, governor, and hope you won't be
long, tor my mouth waters for the supper you
spoke Of
Mr.. Canute smiled and walked away more
briSkly than usual and after sitting for some
time beside the sick mars bed and bidding
good night and bless you, to sweet G lara Hal
we'll, he retraced his steps homewarl, and
found the handsome stranger so obviously
ready to do justice to the frugal fare, that Mr..
Canute joculary remarked Keen air. to which
the stranger replied in the same strain Fine
scenery on which the host added AN artist !?
when the youth, laughing outright, said, An
Indifferent one, indeed After a pause and
suffering his mirth to subside, he continued
Are you always so economical in words, sir
Don't you sometimes find it difficult to carry
On conversation in this strain?'
You DON'T said Mr., Canute smiling, and
impurturably good natured
! Not l, cried the youth and / want to ask
you half a hundred questions. viii you an
swer meg
ri try replied Mr.. Canute
I've not long to stay, for I'm OH a walking
tour with friend but diverged to Amber
mead, as was anxious to see it. I've had 8
curiosity to see it for long while; my friend
Is waiting for me at the market town, eigh
miles off | think, and shall strike across the
country when the moon is up, if you'll give mt
a rest till them
Most welcome said Mr. Canute, courteous
ly.
All ha,' said the stranger, ifthgt's tie way
you pursue your discourse 1 dong think shall
learn much from you hope, however, that
may get wife who will follow your example
Ia woman of two words-she II be rare spec
linen of her SEX
'Ah ha,' calculated Mr.. Canute
But come, tell me, for time presses sale
the young man, suddenly becoming grave; tel
me all about Ambermead. and the Squire-hov
long he's likely to last. For, in fact the frienC
whc is with me during this walking tour is vasl
ly interested in all that concerns the place ant
: property 4a
The heir = whispered Mr., Canute, mysteri
: ously.
Well, well, suppose we say he is he's no
altogether a bad fellow, though he is consider
ed a bit reckless and wild. But he has hear
of Clara Harwel's beauty and goodness from hi
cousin, Lady Ponsonby, (shes Claras cousin
too, you know and he is really sorry that sue
a lovely creature should be turned out of tn
old Hall to make room for him. He wants t
know what will become of her when old Hsrwe
f0ra fba l. - 81