The state rights democrat. [volume] (Albany, Linn County, Oregon) 1865-1900, 1872-04-12


axe directly into the selvet-cushloned
seat, opposite a tall, white-haired old
man, who sat there in dignitied state,
our hero looked up apologeticaliy.
II beg your pardon, SRI didn't
mean" he began politely.
And then he stopped, in amazement.
1t WAS Mr.. Laurence Allaire, tho very
grim old uncle who had refused to
countenance the unreasonable nephew
who presumed to prefer literature and
the beiies-iettr to seat in the bank
ing-house of Allaire tE Algrove.
"Now Tn done for, past all redemp-
tion," groaned Mr.. Ferdinand to him.
self. "Uncle Laurence was quite an-
CRY enough with me before, but no,c
he'll have q text TO preach q serman
that will last him the rest of his life.
The prodigal eating husks-the Israel
ties making bricks in a land of captiv-
ity. l told you SO, and it serves the
young scapegrace right. Now what
evil genius sent my uncle Laurence
down this street just now, of all times
in the world? lie cut me out of his
will three months ago; now he will
add a special clause of obloquy and
disgrace. Well, I can't help itl'
Old Mr.. Aliaire had opened his
keen blue eyes very wide at the un-
wonte6 sight of his aristocratic neph-
ew splitting wood; but it had not
produced exactly the effect upon him
which Ferdinand so darkly prophcsied.
He sat up rs straight as ever in his
carriage, gravely mcditating.
"Stokes! said he to his coachman.
"Sir?" said Stokes.
"Drive 10 Mr.. Pcnnawinks.
ayes. sir" said Stokes
Didn't know the boy had so much
pluck in him." said Mr.. Laurence Al
laire to himself, stroking his frost
white mustachc. The only relative
I've got in the world, after all; no use
in making an obstinate old stage un-
Gle of myself. Pennawinks."
"Yes, SIR" said the lawyer, from his
leather-coyered chair, as Mr.. Allaire
walked into stutty little Office smell.
ing of law books aud stale cigar smoke.
Il want my will restored to its or.
iginal form Pennawinks."
Mr.. Pennawinks elevated his shag.
gy gray brows, but made no other
sign OF amazement. Nj aeianirari
was his motto in legal matters.
Very well, sir. I'll bring it round
to-morl ow," he answered.
"No. you'll not. You'll do it now,
while am waiting. No,c is the ac-
cepted time, for old men like me, Pen.
nawinks.n
Exactly So" said Sir. Pennawinks.
$50 llr. Ferdinand has reformed!"
"Well-no-I can't say that ex-
actly." said the old banker stiffly.-
"But there's more genuine stuff in the
lad than had any idea of. | shall
invite him to dinner this afternoon. s"
But Mr.. Allairc had issued his last
dinner invitation.
"ApopleSy," said one doctor.
"lIeart disease" said second.
~Paralysis-clearly paralysis" as
serted third.
And Ferdinand Allaire heard the
news just as he was buttouing on his
gold cuff studs, after finishing the job
of kindling wood-the best job. had
he but known it, that ever lac under
took in his life. His uncle Laurence
was dead, and he was the heir.
"Jemima," said Mr.. Allaire, com
posedly walking into the dining room
where the pretty Jemima was polish
ing goblets. TIN going away"
1--WE heard it all, said Jemima, "and
it's like story paper exactly. Who
could have thought things were going
to turn out so? Not /, certainly"
HNor l." said Mr.. Allaire. "Jemi-
MAJ"
Well" said Jemima, surveying a
flaw in the glass of one special chalice
with eyes full of resolutely repressed
tears.
"You wouldn't take me this morn.
ing, when l offered myself to you
"Of course that was all nonsense
said Jemima."
at might have been nonsense then,
said Ferdinand, "but it's sober ear.
nest now. | can keep wife decently
now, Jemima, will you have me-"
"Yes, l WILL" said Jemima, laugh
ing and crying at the same time.
And that was what came of Ferdi
nand Allaire's Job of wood saving.