The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1873-04-05

II, OAlURDAY, All
meaning to himself-to satisfy any quiS
otto nonsense whatever. There was gran
scene that evening between him and Arthu
and Felicia, in which the two latter per
formed duet of terribly undutiful chill
dren. Mr.. erode was not a hypocrite b.
nature: that is to say he was hypocrit
only when occasion required, and, whel
nothing was to be gained by hypocrisy
was apt to run into the other extreme ant
to be a little too plain-spokcn. And h,
really and honestly did not feel himself t.
be in the wrong. Arthurs conduct die
really seem to him to be a most selfish ant
uniustifiable indulgence in lunacy. Ant
so his anger and his disgust ran deep anc
his words ran high. Felicia of course
stood by her husband manfully, lift is law
/ full to use such word in speaking of sc
/ thorough woman, and altogether proved
herself SO unworthy of her paternal des-
cent, that her father was more than JUST.
] fled i'll disowning her. At last this domes.
/ tic squabble was bound to end in open war.
Sanity was necessary condition Of peace
on one side, justice on the other: while
what one side considered sanity the other
held to be injustice, and what the other side
considered justice, the one held to be sheer
insanity. This being SO, and after Mr.
erode had given great many pieces of his
mind, couched in any words that happened
to come uppermost. to his two children
after he had accused Arthur of reckless
extravaganza, of childish idiotcy, of selfish
disregard for his wife's family, of ingrati-
tude, and finally of having corrupted
Felicia's mind and even of having obtained
her on false pretenses; after having calico
him prodigal, spendthrift, fool, fortune
hunter idler, vagabond, seducer and swim
der, and Felicia idotic, ungrateful, rebel
lious, and another name or two which a
tongue less course than his would have
avoided even in its just anger, there was
nothing for it but for the two objects of
his wrath to make up their minds to reply
by leaving their present home without even
asking for their portion. Indeed, from the
style Of language in which Mr.. erode in
dulged himself on the subject, it seemed as
though this proceeding was Just what he
intended. To speak plainly, he turned
them out of doors, and cleared the field for
turning the profits of the Emerald to rea-
sonable account.
1t does not take many days sometimes
for whole months to roll by, especially to
hearts that are full of hope and love. Many
days, indeed? Many hours rather. But
when hope and love are the only treasures
that either hearts and hands possess, the
hours change even into minutes. For
without the aid either of hope or of love
the passage from bad to worse, in a world
ly sense, is always travelled at gallop.-
"I'll tell you.'who time gallops withal;''-it
is not only with thief to the gallows, but
with man who every day finds himself
poorer than the day before.
Once more Arthur Cranstoun had to set
to work to redeem his fortune in his own
way, to work not for fame Or for pleasure,
but for bread. But good will is not by any
means necessarily synonymous with pow
er. 1t is not less true because it is unsat-
isfactory, that gentleman almost always
drops into the background when he is
matched with professional runners. He is
above jostling and cross-running, and does
not take his training kindly; they are not,
and they do. Your great artist has almost
invariably been one who has risen from the
ranks, not one who has been degraded to
them. But though this is so, and though
poverty very soon came to knock at the
door in Newman street, love did not make
so much as even tutter of his wings
toward the window. Perhaps it was only
because he was afraid of soiling them in
the dingy and uncomfortable atmosphere
outside; but, whatever the reason may have
been, he obstinately remained Indeed,
Felicia seemed to develop in the cold in a
most part, require hot house culture. tits
even possible that she may have done her
husband some little harm, speaking after
the manner of the world by rendering his
own anxieties, his own outward troubles,
less hard to bear, even as she had in the
first instance rendered his sacrifice more
easy.
There is no limit to the romance of pow
erty. Roses are never weary of growing
among the brambles, and not the less SO
because they are SO apt to be hidden by the
brambles among which they grow. But
this is too large a topic for present consid-
Grafton; and to those who, like those with
whom we are at present concerned are
themselves struggling through the BRAN
ble-brush, the roses are apt to be far less
conspicuous than the thorns
The outward history Of Arthur Gran
stoun was something like this He went
and shut himself up in his studio and set
to work upon picture, living at first upon
Il lew pOuuuS ludl Ile dUOuI Hill, anu
which he fancied that he was thereby in
vesting in a speculation upon the security
of his genius and industry that was to
bring him in interest at the rate of at least
ten thousand per cent-a dream which
Felicia shared to his hearts content. But
even these few pounds did not last as long
as they should have done, in reasonably
economical hands. Not only were small
pleasures too often preferred to absolute
necessities but not few of the few sover-
eigns somehow contrived to get rid of
themselves in aiding old Mrs. Levi to fight
the battle of life little longer; indeed,
some of them even secretly found their way
into the hands of her son. Arthur had
told Felicia their miserable story, and the
latter could not rest until she had paid a
visit to the mother, and had sent anony-
mously to the son more than the donors