The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1873-06-12
A RACE FOR LIFE,

Sir, you're an ass !!
Olr, I'm not. l came here to sue
'or your daughters hand, and"
And you expect me to give nv
daughter to man who, whatever NAV
oe ms other qualities, has not a CORNER
IN the world to bless himself with -
know l. have no money at present
sir but | have hopes"
A pretty thing to begin housekeep-
ing on Supposing you were married
the day after ?' - ''ie
Live, Sir, of course p
why OF course2 To live you want
1000 II you want food, YOU want
money; and as you have no money.
you would get no food; and no food
Sir" ~" 'oo 'ii"''
" Yes, Sir; but"
But There's no but in the case.
Now take a bit of, advice from me, Nor
tlmer, as one of your fathers oldest
friends. Go and earn living and
When you can show me that you can
support my daughter if l give her TO
you-mlnd you, {f-I shall be ready to
tal6 TO you, Good-morning. Bah 7"
ana the teSUy but good-natured old gen.
tleman stumped out of the room, ieav-
ing me speechless sitting on the edge
oI chair with my hat in my hand. All
my hopes had been ruthlessly dashed
to the ground. Ihad expected to argue
the point with Mr.. Clavering, as Bessie,
his daughter, had assuie ed ME that it
would be all right if / only put the
matter properly before him. We had
mutually agreed that he would be sure
TO give his consent, and had laid no end
OF plans for the future, in which every
Shlng but the question of money had
oeen eXhaustively considered. The
abrupt manner in which this had now
been brought up disconnected me not
little, and left the room not quite so
certain that I did not resemble that
generally good-natured but otherwise
unreliable quadruped to which Mr.. Cla-
verlng had ikened me in the course of
our conversation.
AT the door I met Bessie, with an ex-
preston of mingled anxiety and curiosi-
ty on her cOuntenance.
well, Jack, what did papa say ?"
That l was an ass, Bessie -
"Oh, hope you did not quarrel I
was afraid there was something wrong,
as / heard him ordering deviled kidneys
for lunch, and he never does that with
out he's i'll passion.
"Bessie, the old gentleman asked me
how we were going to live"
Well, did you not tell him in lit
tie cottage, with garden in front, and
piggery, and kitchen-garden and
fowl-house, and a little dairy, and
b" Yes, yes ; but that's not what he
meant. He wanted to know where the
money was to come from to pay for all
this"
"Why, you We're to provide the
money, of course. You were to earn
It,"
Certainly; but your father wanted
to know how"
Chow? Well, you would-there now,
you ought to know best, surely. Don't
you?"
"No, I don't, Bessie, and think we
ought to have thought of this before. "
Jack, L don't wonder papa got into
a passion with you, you're so stupid.
L have a great mind to get angry with
you myself"
But, sweetheart, don't you really
think we ought to have considered hoW
We were going to buy what we wanted? ?"
That was your business, not mine
and, Jack, If you look at me like that
Ill box your ears.
"No, you won't! I think you're all
in very bad temper this morning"
DO you? Now tell you what it is.
Mr.. Jack. Till you find out how we're
going to get the money to live on I
won't have anything more to say or do
with you at all. Don't come near me
now; L don't love you bit never
shall, and L never did! And, Jack, |
when you've found out hooO, you'll come
and tell me first, won't you?" And
away dashed Bessie, leaving me at the
garden gate, to which we had walked
during our conversation.
1t was lovely spring morning. All
nature seemed in ecstasy at the pros
pect of approaching summer. 1 alone
was sad. 1 could not help feeling that
L had made mistake, and that l must
have lowered myself considerably in |
the estimation of old Mr.. Clavering. by
appearing so thoughtless and incon-
siderate. True, 1 was but nineteen,
and having lost my father early, had |
been brought up and educated by my
mother alone, and so perhaps had rath- |
er less knowledge of the world than 1 |
should have acquired had been sent |
to a public school or to the university. |
My position was by no means bad one. |
The only son of a distinguished mill
tary officer, who was not wealthy, but |
had left what little he had to his widow
during her lifetime. L might be said
to have possessed good education,
and what was perhaps better, fair pros
poets. had been invited by old Mr..
Claayering, who was an old military COM
rade OF my fathers, to spend month
with him at his residence at Morecombe
Bay During my stay 1 had learned
trst to like and then to love his daugh-
ter Bessie, and when my visit approach
ed Its termination had not only declared
my love, but had asked permission to
marry, with what result is known.