The workingman's advocate. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1864-1877, 1869-12-18

be would leave me handsome competency
But this hope was now disappointed, and
with il vanished my bright hopes Of Emme
line and happiness could not bear the
thoughts Of exposing the woman Of my hear
to the risk Of poverty and privation. She
knew not Of my love. and now she must re
main forever ignorant Of it; for what had
to offer her?-a heart, and nothing more
and you know. Musgrave that although
loving hearts are very pretty things in poet
ry, smoking ones would better furnish forth
poor mans table.
Igradually withdrew myself from the 80
ciety Of my good old friend, though it cost
me many a severe pang to do 50; and when
ever did meet him, / bad always some fal.
tering excuse to make about press Of bust
ness, i'll health, or bad weather. / was talk
ing to him one day, when Emmeline, who m
l had not seen for some time, unexpectedly
joined MS.
The conscious blood rushed to my head
Immediately, and ttammered out some in
coherent apology in reply to ber expression
Of surprise at my long absence. The old
man noticed my embarrassment, and be-
came silent and thoughtful. At last, turn
ing to bis daughter, be said, "Emmeiine my
love. see what we are 20 have for dinner;
Mr.. Lorrimer will take family fare with us.
Not word, youngster," Ito me, as l was
beginning to remonstrate) Il am command
ing officer here"
Walking on together for some time in al
lenoe; at last be stopped, and taking my
hand, while be looked full m my face, he
said
"I am not so blind, Mr.. LOrrimer, but |
can see which way the land lies. | like to
be fair and above-board with everyone ard
you are not the man l shall break through
the rule with. l like you, Frank Lorrimer,
and | would do much to serve you. Em-
meline-ah! there 90 the red colOrs again
you love her, Frank win her and wear
her, if you can; you have my free and full
consent have heard Of your fathers
death and its results, and understand and
honour the motives that have induced you
to absent yourself from US. l am not
rich man, but have enough to make two
young people happy; and know no one to
whom l would more joyfully con6de my
daughters happiness than to yourself"
Kind, generous old man ! had not
word to say. merely pressed his hand in
silence and tears. Yes, tears-for joy can
weep as well as grief l was soon again
constant visitor at Oak Lodge. and in few
months | had the happiness of call ng En-
incline my own. l have been now married
three years, and have every day greater
cause to bless the happy chance which first
led me to Oak Lodge. My excellent father
in-law lives with us and delights in spending
his day in nursing his little grandchildren.
Long may be be spared TO US!
What arried and father o, ,
Frank, what a fortunate fellow you bave
been! Here have been bufFeting about
the world for years. the shuttIecOck Of fate, |
hunting fortune in every corner Of the
world, and I return home poor and penni-
less as the day left it. l. whose early
dreams were all Of the happiness Of mar
ried Life, shall siDk into my gave solitary
without one loved hand to tend
my pillow, and to smooth my passage to the
tomb"
"Ob, nonsense. Cheer up, Musgrave."
said I; "I shall dance at ! our wedding
yet. But why need you care now about
the scurvy tricks Of fortune abroad, since
you have returned to enjoy her favours at
home %
"Favours What do you mean, Frank !"
Shave you not heard Of the death Of
your poor brother George, and that the
lawsuit in which your father was 50 long
engaged has terminated favourably for him,
He is now in possession Of rental Of three
thousand per annum, to which, of course.
you will be heir"
Heavens! you don't say So" exclaim-
ed Musgrave; but am sure you would
not deceive me. I have not heard from
home for upwards Of twelvemonth. Frank,
you are a fine fellow. Shake hands with
me-"
cay, that I will" said I; "and I con-
gratulate you with all my heart l am
glad l have been the first to communicate
such pleasing intelligence; and the least
you can do in return is to give me an ac-
count of yourself since we parted"
"Why, I'm not in the best mood in the
world for storytelling" replied Musgrave
" this unexpected good fortune has rather
destroyed my equilibrium; however, / will
brush. up my memory for your qualification,
though the retrospect will be anything but
agreeable to myself You remember, I
daresay. the day when left school; on my
memory, at least, the recollection Of it is as
vivid as if it were yesterday. When |
drove away in my uncle's carriage, |
thought | was going home on temporary
visit, and little imagined was never to re-
turn. When I arrived at home, | found in
the drawing-room with my father little,
active, dark-looking man, with stern,
prompt manner, who was introduced to me
as Cap ain Fleetwood.
Orchard. my boy" said my father, you
have often expressed a wish to 60 to sea,
and l have now an opportunity Of crafty
ing you. My friend, Captain Fleetwood,
has volunteered to take you out with him as
midshipman and. as | know could not
eutrust you to better hands. I am glad to
avail myself Of his offer. The warning Is
rather short one, as you must be on board
your ship within fortnight; you have no
time to lose, and l will accompany you
to town to prepare your equipment. We
will leave this tomorrow morning at nine
o'clock"
was rather staggered by this sudden
announcement, for, though il bad always
been the dearest wish of my heart to 60 to
sea, vet there was something so unexpected
J. IL I;sh,rant of II that 7 renente