Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1872-02-06
"S'death Shall l kick you out

ana III dOnt I matter Wnau DecOlles vi
me. | served your father when | was
but boy, and | remember the day
you were born, and what rejoicing
there was and | remember the day
you were married, and how the old
folks couldn't speak to him. They
were up there I've seen it all. I've
served your flesh and blood for three
generations, and now it's all over, and
they're all gone. Yes, master, you
may kick the old man who carried you
in his arms when you were a helpless
babe; you may kick him as much as
you wish !" And tears coursed down
the wrinkled cheeks and dropped from
the white beard.
"Philip, leave this room, You have
talked all you wished now, never re-
fer to this again-never. Obey me. 3"
The tone was stern, but not unkind,
and the speakers face had grown white.
His will was not shaken, however. 1t
was, so to write, passing through the
process of crystallization, which would
harden it for all time. Philip inclin-
ed his head and moved silently from
the room. As he entered the lower
hall the servants gathered about him,
and asked many anxious questions, es-
pecially the nurse who had taken care
of Egbert when baby, and perform
ed the last earthly service for his
sainted mother. 1t was hard for the
old man to tell this woman of the ban
ishment of her pet, and harder for him
to hear her means and see her weep.
Choaking down his own grief, he went
out into the park and dropped upon a
bench. The place, once made beauti-
full by the presence of his young mas
ter, now seemed prison-yard, drcary,
cherries, repulsive. The spring days
crept away, and with the coming sum-
mcr gay party of ladies and gentle
men arrived at Hereford Lodge. So
the house was to be open again, and
merriment was to live within its SOM
bre walls. The servants shook their
heads, and Philip wondered if his
master was really heartless. Dinners
and hunts, and Egbert wandcrer. 1t
was dreadful. He went about his sim
pie duties, however, with his usual
care, but never spoke, nor lifted his
grave face, unless addressed, and then
his replies were as brief as courtesy
would allow. Those of the guests
who had known Egbert vcntured once
to inquire concerning him, but the
black scowl that distorted Warren
Hereford's brow silenced present
queries, and warned them not to touch
upon the subject in the future. That
this should create much wonder and
speculation was but natural, and that
some of the company should seek to
probe the mystery was an inevitable
sequnce. Egbert Hereford had been
a universal favorite and priced friend
and those who had the pleasure of his
society easily interested those who had
rot, so that his absence soon became
the prevailing private topic. One
day several ladies expressed desire
to visit the picture -gallary, and Philip
was ordererd to conduct them hither.
They had examined and commented
upon the portraits of the warlike an
cestors of the present owner of the es-
tate, when Cora Parkhurst-a lovely
brunette, and daughter of Sir George
Parkhurst - beckoned Philip to her
side, and pointing to a large, full
length printing, enthusiastically said :
"That is Egbert; l am sure it is"
ayes, my lady, yes" sighed the old
man "and fine as it is, it does not do
the dear lad Justice. See those eyes,
how blue they are, and the hair, just
like gold, and the face white and clear.
Some think it womanish, my lady, but
he was man all over-man in spirit,
muscle and heart, man in principle"
"It is very handsome" mused Cora,
gazing dreamily at the canvas. "He
was not obstinate and arrogant, was
he? / thought he could not be, because
there is tenderness in the face that
would seem to indicate benevolence
and natural kindness"
"Your eyes tell you truly, my lady,
There is not man, woman or child
on the estate but has felt his noble
heart, and known its charity. IT'S
true he had the fire of his race, and
that's all one can bring against him.
All, me twas a sad day, my lady,
when the young master left US, and