The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1870-05-05

q i 7 23a.I ssoaylystl q ....
he struggled On, and at last said I
himself one, day that, with all1its fault
and :incomplsteness, there NJ NOR
true stuff IN il, ,than In any thing he ha
yet produced.
One day Dick received short not
in his uncle Charles careful handwrit
ing: "When are you coming dow,
Ihere?" the old man wrote. II hay,
not been we'll, or I should have been vi
to town. I suppose you could pain
here as we'll as in your studio or under
Matilda's auspices? :? but this place il
dismal, and silent, and empty, and ha'
no such attractions as those which
from all accounts, Tracy seems to hold
out, so I shall not be surprised if DE-
not see you. Mundy takes very good
care of me. If I really want you, I
will send for you. Ycmrs, G. b."
"What has hc heard ?'' though,
Dick, when he read the note. "Who
can have told him anything?, Is he
vexed or only out Of spirits Z" Butler
felt he must 60, Of course. It was tire
some, now that he was just getting in
to the swing, and doing the first piece
of work which was worth, tho canvas
upon which it. was painted. As for
taking his picture there, Dick was j more
afraid of his uncle's sarcastic little
compliments than Of any: amount Of
criticism 9 and, besides,<. there was no
knowing what might be the result of
their meeting. He would go down
pay him visit, and tell him bis story,
and then, if he were not turned out
forever il, would be time enough to see
about transp porting the canvas. :.s . =,
Dick took His ticket il a somewhat
injured frame M Mmind. All the 3: way
down the railway carriage he vas ie.
hearsiog the. scene that ,vas to ia ake
place. ho took preyerse pleasure in
going oterit again aodagsiu. Some
times hctarsedsg himself out ofsdoors,
soune.imea he eonjured Charles But,
ler's harsh little, saroasti eslsug .sueer.;
ing and disoWning him. Once he saw
himself "a traitor abando doning Refine for
the'sake Of the bribe; but no., that
was impossible; that was the only
thing which could not happen. When
he=got to the station hehad 10 hire the
fly, as he was not expected, and to
drive along the lanes. They were damp
and rotten with leaves; gray m;sts
came rolling along the furrows; a few
belated birds were singing an autumnal
song.
"They say the old gentleman's l.
breaking up'fast, y : said thes Lyman,
cheerfally, IS he dismounted at the foot
of one Of the muddy hills. a, 6 He's not
an old man, by no means; yet, but my 4
missis she see him go by last Sunday
fortnight, and says she to me, just 80,
why says she, 'old Mr.. Butler amt |
balf the man he wer' in the spring.
time,'" !
Dick could not help feeling uncom-
Portable he was not in the best of
spirits; the still, close afternoon, with
the rotten vegetation all about, and the
clouds bearing heavily down, predispos-
ed him to a gloomy view of things
They drove in at the well-known gates.
"1 hope I shall find my uncle bet
ter" he said, trying to speak hopefully
as he got down at tho hall door and IAN
up the old-fashioned steps. Mundy
opened the door.
"Oh, Mr.. Richard" he said, "I have
just been writing to you. My master
is very poorly, I am sorry to say-yery
poorly indeed" ="
Old Mr.. Butler was alone in the
morning-room when his nephew came
in. He had had fire lighted, and he
was sitting, wrapped in On old,fashion.
palm n dressing-govn, in. a. big chair
drawn close to tbs fender; The ?tsll
windows were unshuttered still, and q
great cloud Of mist was hanging like a
veil over the landscape: ~ :"' - IS - !
"Well, my, dear boy, J" said !. strange
yet familiar voice, II aid : not. expect
you so soons'' >: l5ss a sge :,:ss 10 i,ssb
It was III like some ,yety ID MIN speak
ing and nd holding; out an esger, 5trsubi
ling hand: eAs' old Butler 0spoKss,a Z fhe
shut up and put into his pocket, . hiitls
tie old brown praser.book in whieh ne
had been reading. Dick, Who had
been picturing imaginary pangs to him!
self all the way coming down, now
found how different real aching pain
is to the visionary emotions We all iu
f1iot E ppen ourselves: & occasionally. ss 1t
was rsithea real forebodirss sthat h ~
Ftbat some terrible change for the worse
had come over the old man. = His face
was altered, his, voice faint and sharp,
and his hand was burning: =. - 49,. =,
"Why didn't you send for me, nay
dear Uncle Charles? I Inever knew; =
I:only got your letter this morning. II
thad thought for one instant =: ;" ;.
"My note was written last week. =
said Charles. II kept it back on pur'
pose. You were hard at work, weren'l
you?'': Dick said nothing. He goi
tight hold Of the trembling, burning
hand. "Fm very bad, ',asaid old Charles,
looking mn at the vo,ing5 "a Il fellov. a ttYou