Eaton weekly Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1866-1875, 1872-09-12
AN AFFAIR OF HONOR.

l am reminded, by q recent article in
the journals, of the single combats which
in former times were won't to defiIe the
green turf of my native island. Of
course need not name that island the
sim pie ideas of "fighting" and green"
will infallibly suggest to the least logi-
cal intellect in Great Britain a compound
one, representing the locality intended.
But although the progress of civilization
in my country has, through many pain
full causes, been wofnlly retarded, yet
there is some comfort in rejecting that
the enormity of dueling may now be
classed among the things that have been
and are not. L will, however, for the
amusement of my readers, relate the
history of an affair of honor which took
place in district of Munster, some
sixty or seventy years ago.
Albeit wild locality, SO far as natural
features of the landscape were concern
ed, yet the vicinity of Barnagore-as,
for the double reason of concealment
and euphony, shall call twas a toll
erably peaceable place, viewed with re-
spect to its inhabitants. Barring the
occasional beating of tithe-proctor or
ducking of sheriff's officer, the coun-
try for miles around the village, which
gave it name, was singularly free from
agrarian outrage. The land was divided
into moderately-sized estates, each sup
porting the hospitable mansion of
country gentleman, with his good-na-
tured wife, and their handsome frolick-
ing progeny.
During a long series of years various
intermarriages had taken place between
the several families, so that, at the time
l write of, there was scarcely an indi-
vidual of note in the country who could
.11 III i
every one of his neighbors. One gentle
man there was, however, who was wholly
unconnected with the magnates of the
district. He was a Mr.. Fooks, a rich
old bachelor, residing in very pretty
cottage close to the boundary hedge of
a large estate, which had lain for some
time unoceupied. The dwelling of Mr..
Fooks stood in the middle of beauti-
fully cultivated pleasure ground, will
derness of sweets, where the emerald
turf of the lawn was soft, and rich, and
smiling, as though it lay in the heart of
England's sunny Hampshire. A kind
man was Mr.. Fooks; beloved by the
squires, with whom he never quarreled,
when in the heat of the chase, follow
ing the hounds in full cry alter reynard,
they trampled his harvest fields. He
was beloved by them, [ say, notwith-
standing his uniform desertion of the
dining-room after the first magnum of
claret had gone its rounds-a grievous
dereliction from the rules of good-fei-
lowship, which would not have been
easily pardoned in anyone else; but Mr..
Fooks was a privileged man, and, as the
ladies were won't to remark, 3. it was
really comfort to feel sure of having
one gentleman steady on his legs in the
drawing room, SO one might venture to
give him cup of coffee without the
chance of having half of it spilled on
ones best satin.'
With the young people he was an
especial favorite. No better man in "Sir
Roger de Coverly," or merrier opponent
in the game of Matrimony," could be
found in the entire country while his
skill in making hurleys" ior the boys,
and carving wooden babies for the girls,
secured for him a widespread popular
ity among the rising generation. By
common consent he was known in this
neighborhood as "Holy Fooks," and
this epithet was bestowed not in ridi-
cule, but in a sincere acknowledgment
of his singularly blameless and useful
life. Perhaps it was also meant to COM
mcmorate a popularity in his character
he was never known to fight. From
the tithe-proctor, whom he Hospitality
entertained and regularly aid-an un-
precedented line of conduct, which
caused that much enduring man to ex-
claim, "Sure, Barnagora would be a
heaven upon earth if every man in it
was like Holy Fooks'-from the tithe-
proctor down to the urchins, whom he
often caught snaring hares or cutting
sticks in his wood, he never abused or
quarreled with any one. Yet Holy
Fooks was no coward-that the poor
widow at the mill could testify, whose
fair-haired boy he had saved from
drowning by jumping into the mill,
pond at the imminent risk of his life
And when Tom Maloney's house was
burned, who but Holy Fooks could be