The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1873-10-09

the one treading the downward path to

the one treading the downward path to
old age.
There had been family gathering at
Mrs. Kimberly's one evening in the
month of March, and conversation
had arisen upon the traditional customs
and tricks of the 1st of April.
Senseless, absurd tricks" Rupert
Smithson had called them in his
abrupt, rough way, fit only to amuse
children or idiots"
go, pshaw, Uncle Rupert" said
Fannie, saucily, "you played April fool
tricks too when you were young"
"Never Never could see any wit
or sense in them. And what's more,
Miss Fannie, L was never once caught
by any of the shallow deceits."
Never made an April fool?"
Never, and never will be, was the
reply. "There child, go play me that
last nocturn you learned. 1t suits me-.
hate sky-rocket music, but that is the
dreamy, lazy air, and L like it,"
"The idea of your liking anything
dreamy and lazy" said Mrs. Kimberly.
81 thought you were all energy and
activity"
"When 1 work, I work." was the
reply; " but when rest, want rest "
"Uncle Rupert" broke in Rupert,
suddenly, "what will you bet I can't
fool you next week?"
Bah The idea of getting to my
age to be fooled by boy like YOU"
"Then you defy me?"
"Of course I do"
"Tll do it."
"Fore-warned is fore-afmed. But
come, stop chatting, I want my
Pretty, saucy, mirth-loving Fannie,
with her dancing black eyes and bril-
liant smile, did not look like very
promising interpreter of dreamy, lazy
music, but once her hands touched the
keys of the grand pianoforte, the whole
nature seemed to mergeinto the sounds
she created. Merry music made dan
cling elves of her fingers as they flew
over the notes /; dreamy music drew a
mask of hushed beauty over her face,
and her great black eyes would dilate
AID seem to see far away beauties as
the room filled with the sweet, low
cadences.
She would look like an inspired Joan
of Arc when grand chords rolled out
under her hands in majestic measures,
and sacred music transformed her
beauty into something sanity. When
once the rosewood case closed, Saint
Cecilia became pretty, winsome Fannie
Kimberly again.
There were few influences that could
soften the outer crust of manner in Ru-
pert Smithson, but he would hide his
face away when Fannie played, ashamed
of the tears that started, or smiles that
lowered on his lips as the music pierced
down into that warm, loving heart he
had tried to conceal with cynical words
and looks.
So, when the first chords of the noe
turn melted softly into silence, the old
bachelor stole away and left the house.
bidding no one farewell.
They were accustomed to his singular
ways, and no one followed him, but
Mrs. Kimberly sighed as she said
"Rupert gets more odd and crusty
every year"
'But he is so good" Fannie said,
leaving her piano stool with twirl that
kept it spinning around giddily.
" Why don't he get married ?" asked
Rupert. " 1t is downright shame to
have that splendid house shut up year
after year, excepting just the few rooms
Uncle Rupert and Mrs. Jones occupy"
I" L mean to ask him." said Fannie,
impulsively.
"No, no !" said Mrs. Kimberly. hasti-
ly, "never speak of that to your uncle,
Fannie, Never !"
I" But why not %
" 1 never told you before, but your
uncle was engaged years ago, aud there
was some trouble. 1 never understood
about it exactly, for L was married and
left Wilton the same year that Rupert
came to New York. But this 1 do
know; the lady after waiting three or
four years, married, and Rupert has
never been the same man since. am
quite sure he was very much attached
to her, and that you would wound him,
Fannie, if you jested about marriage"
" But I don't mean to jest at all. I
think he would be ever so much happier
if he had some one to love, and some
one to love him in return. 1t must be
dreadfully lonesome in that large house
with no companion but Mrs. Jones,
who is 100 years old, am certain.
" He ought to marry her." said Ru-
pert, " she always calls him 'dearie.'"
"Don't, children, jest about it any
more, said their mother, "and be sure
you never mention the subject to your
uncle"
The first of April was a clear, rather
cold day, the air bright and swapping,
and the sky all treacherous smiles as
became the coquettish month of sun
shine and showers.
Uncle Rupert, finishing his lonely
breakfast, thought to himself:
81 must be on the lookout to-day for
Rupert's promised trick! He won't find
t so easy as he imagines to fool his old
lncle. Who's there ?" The last two
words i'll answer to a somewhat timid |
mock upon the door.
1t was certainly not easy to astonish |
Rupert Smithson, but his eyes opened |
With an unmistakable expression of |
as the door opened to admit |
| tall, slender figure in deep mourning,
md low, very sweet voice asked:
sis this the landlord?"
The-the-what?"
81 called about the house, sir"
"What house? Take a seat"-sud-
lenly recalling his politeness.
SIS not this No. 40 W placer"
HCertainly il is "