The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1873-06-19
settling himself comfortably to hear.

Fitzmaurice rose reluctantly.
Well, since must he said.
He seems already rapt in the subject
said Sir Mordaunt apart to his brother
guardian.
The latter nodded.
Throwing himself into an attitude. and
employing the lowest tones he found con-
venient, Captain Fitzmaurice intrepidly
began:
q In these deep solitudes and awful cell"
That sounds Popeish, doesn't it?'
observed Mr. Cornish.
Your motto. eh2' said Sir Mordaunt.
But come to your own my boy!'
Certainly, certainly; Where was [?
Ali
outrageous barren shades-without leafl
To your mild do I confde my grief
Good. remarked Mr.. Cornish. But
teaser for the artist Leafess shades?
Keep your leaves on-its better
My dear sir. by all means. said the
poet. With the greatest Of pleasure l
proceed:
| A heart infexble-a rigorous sire
Shower their dire ire upon my higher desire ssss,
Too many Tres, eh p suggested Mr..
Cornish.
The scenes in Ireland you know, put
in Sir Mordaunt, boldly. Unities of the
drama
All, said his brother critic.
Captain Fitzmaurice, warming to his
work, proceeded
Rapt in Elysium chow could doubt it2)
Come forth, sweet shade-ahem-and-
Tell us all about it?' prompted Sir
Mordaunt, laughing. Some affection,
but more curiosity, should say.
Have the goodness, Drury, to reserve
these remarks, at least until we have
heard more Of this singular piece, said
Mr.. Cornish warmly. Pray sir, pro-
coed, and excuse the interruption
Sir Mordaunt rubbed his hands and
glanced triumphantly at his ward.
I am only giving you fragments, you
see, said the poet:
And, oh, forgive me- princess all too dearl
The fatal love that brought you, me, that is one
OF us
Both of you, of coure, here said
the Baronet.
Now pray. Drury, be quiet, remon'
strated his friend. This is, perhaps, the
crisis of the play
Fitzmaurice made another plunge.
"Whie around your brows the rays of glory glisten
Angelic spirit be kind enough to listen.'
Politely put. remarked Sir Mordaunt
Excellent said Mr.. Cornish.
Now comes the passion / resumed
Fitzmaurice.
| How Dost thou fly mef"
Magnificent exclaimed Cornish
excitedly.
| What is that see?
| A rival, as 1 live IT'S he IT'S shel"
'Who?' asked Sir Mordaunt.
Pray be ouiet' urged his friend.
Fitzmaurice pretended to draw o dag.
ger.
" Death to my saccorr'
Good, good! ! shouted the enthusiast
1t makes one shudder i
Let him die in peace advised the
baronet. Down with your curtain!'
Citzmaurice took the hint.
"-Fold me in my PAIL
Forget me not-think of me-think-thats ALL"
Mr.. Cornish started up, and caught
him by both hands.
My dear young friend exclaimed the
excitable old gentleman. I am as much.
astonished as delighted at your powers.
A mon who, at your years, cannot only
write, but act-yes, acts phenome G.
non, indeed. in this age. 1t is true, did
not clearly understand, could not closely
follow the-the plot. But that was my
fault. Emotion
My good friend, said Mr.. Mordaunt.
Surely you understand that it was a
prince, who
Yes, yes, prince. In love-
Exactly. To whom certain cruel
guardian had refused his ward
A selfish, tyranical guardian. | see
1t is fine situation, finely delineated.
No wonder. The writer has felt it.
How-like the unfortunate prince p
"Just so. And can you guess who is
the tyrant? Pr
"Who could play the tyrant in such a
case ?" asked Mr.. Cornish, his eyes yet
twinkling with recent tears.
YOURSELF"
II detest all tyranny. The domestic
worst Of all. There is less appeal"
eff SO, you pity the oppressed aud the
deserving. Here they are" said the old
baronet, taking hand of each of the
young people. Cornish, we were about
to make serious mistake. Charles Fitz-
maurice loves our Marigold, who returns
his affection. You would have known it
long before, but for the terror your iron
rule (you wicked old tyrant, who 'detests
all trranny,) has inspired. Now, unless
you relent, what will you call yourself?"
"When a mans allies turn against
him." said old Cornish, "the game is
usually up. If Bluccher, instead OF pur-
suing the French from Waterloo, had
ridden up to your idol, the duke, and
said, My dear duke, I am sorry to
thwart your plans. but our feelings have
changed and Bulow is at this moment at
lacking your rear there would probably
have been a row. Drury, Drury, you
have thrown me oyer And Stichelbach
''My dear old friend" replied Sir Nor
daunt, 'you must at least admit that
Charles Fitzmaurice possesses equal ad-
vantages with Mr.. Stichelbach, with the
additional claim of having at least ascer
tanned the young lady's disposition as re-
CARDS himself-a precaution Mr.. Stichel-
bach disdain.
Cornish paused for moment.
''Well, well, be it as you WISH" he