Baton Rouge tri-weekly gazette & comet. [volume] (Baton Rouge, La.) 1865-18??, 1865-12-09
The Gazette &GomRt
JOHN OAKHEART AND SON.
BY DION BoURoIoAULT.

lnoTcHdubS. AOuuS JONI onteTeu nis
fathers Office, as a clerk, at sixtya
pounds year, of which he paid his
mother forty for board, lodging and
washing, and clothed himself with
the odd twenty. Do not imagine
that Mr.. Oakheart's. establishment
required that assistance. The old
gentleman desired to make his SON
feel that he supported himself At
twenty-five years Of age young Oak
heart married, receiving with his
wife moderate sum of money. He
wants to purchase share Of his
fathers business they cannot come
to terms. Young John can make o
better bargain with rival house in
the trade. The old man hesitates;
he likes the sound of John Oakheart
and Son, but business is business.
Had he married penniless girl, the
father would have given him what
he now refuses to sell; but now,
business is business, and, as calcu-
lation, he can't do it. So young
John becomes chief partner in a rival
firm to that which, one day, must be
his, and trades against the old man,
whose only sin is to lay up wealth
for his son.
Every day at a o'clock, leaning
against a particular corner on
Change, stands the elder merchant,
his hands deeply sunk into his dog
cared pockets. A young city man
approaches; they exchange a quiet,
careless nod. n
Feel inclined to discount for
1900 at long date 2"
"What security" asks John.
"Turkish '54."
"Any names?"
"My own only; it is private
matter, and has nothing to do with
our house" replied the younger.
"I will give 4 per cent"
al should want more than that, as
money goes-say 4B."
1.-The brokers only ask A." re-
piled the young man.
"Then give it," And they sep
arate with an Indifferent nod. That
was father and son.
Every Sunday young John and
his wife dine at Russell Square, in
the same house where old Oakheart
has lived for thirty years. His name
has been cleaned out of the brass
plate on the door. This house young
John still looks upon and speaks of,
as his home. All the associations of
childhood are there-every piece of
furniture is an old friend--every OBJ
ject is sacred in his eyes, from his
own picture, taken at four years old,
with its chubby face and fat legs, to
the smoke dried picture of Gen. Al
berzombie. They form the archi-
lecture of that temple of his heart
his home.
After dinner the ladies have re-
tired. The crimson curtains are
comfortably closed. The cracking
fire glows with satisfaction and old
John pushes the bottle across to his
son, for if old John had weakness
it is for tawney port. Jack, my
boy says he, what do you want
with se120O?'
"Well, sir" replied John, "there
is piece of ground next to my villa
at Brixton, and they threaten to
build upon tiff SO, they will spoil
our view. Emily" meaning his
wife, "has often begged me to buy it
and inclose it in our garden. Next
Wednesday is her birthday, and 1
wish to crafty her with surprise;
but have reconsidered the matter
/ ought not to afford it-so l have
given it up"
"Quite right, Jack" responded the
old man, ait would have been a piece
of extravaganza" and the subject
drops.
Next Wednesday being Emily's
birthday, the old couple dine with
the young folks. Just before dinner
old John takes his daughter in-law
aside, and places in her hand a
parchment-itis is the deed of the little
plot of ground she coveted. He
stops her thanks with kiss and
hurries away.
Ere the ladies retire, Emily finds
time to whisper the secret to her
husband, and the father and son are
alone. Watch the old mans eyes
fixed on the fire, for he has detected
this piece of afectionate treachery,
and is almost ashamed of his act,
because. he does not know how to
receive his thanks. For a few mo-
nkr IL