Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1874-06-12

its heels. The garden was very green anC
very black, as these north country place:
are. Tall chimnies showed above the COLDER
birch-trees; iron hurdles fenced off the
green clipped lawn the beds were bordereC
with some patent zinc ornament geranium'
were blooming in leaden pots. In one place
there was an iron fountain with a statue, IL
another a tin pavilion. a grass-cuttine
machine stood in one corner of the lawn
with a hose for watering the plants double
locked greenhouses were built along the
western walls, with alternate domes and
weathercocks for ornament. Thrre was a
croquet lawn planned by Ben, who was the
sociable member Of the party; and beyond
the garden and the mill and the shed lay the
valley, wide and romantic as Yorkshire val
lies are, with rocks enclosing, with rising
turfy crags, leading to widening moors, and
the sound of water and the cry of birds COM
ing clear in the Sunday silence. Ben was
whistling, as he walked along. Hugh was
trying to get up his courage to make a
certain request he had at heart. Bathurst
was leaping the iron fence, followed by two
of the dogs. "IIi, Ju well leaped," cried
Mr.. Gourlay. who was always very fond OF
his dogs. First the mill, then the dogs.
used to say to his brothers Mr. Gourlay
was not 50 absorbed in jus performance as
to forget his sons entirely. He looked round
uneasily.
"Where is Hugh? Look up, Hugh. What
is the matter with him, Ben? he seems al
ways moping."
Hugh had stopped short. and was looking
at the gravel path in dreamy, dazed sort Of
fashion. Hearing himself called he looked
up. Father. he said, suddenly, II
have been wishing to speak to you for some
time ; may as well speak now. want a
change. will YOU let me 90 to college
for 4 couple of years? You said yesterday
that YOU would make me an allowance. VIII
You give me two years at cOllege2"
There was a dead silence Ben, as usual
began to whistle Bathurst came back with
a leap over the hurdle Then the old man
spoke NO, that viii not do said Mr.
Gourlay, growing very red and looking Hugh
/ full in the face, and striking one of the iron
fences sharply with his stick college
what has put such id stuff into your
head, Hugh? Who wants college here? |
am plain man Of business. Have | been
to college? But | have made my own for
tune and yours by my own brains; dye
think they will teach You brains at those
places? What the devil Is it We want Is
it 10 tine-gentleman-it over your brothers
and father?" Old Mr.. Gourlay was work
ing himself up as he went on more and
more yehemently. Two years-just when
you are beginning to understand the bust
ness. Is this your gratitude for all that :
been done for YOU? Look at me, sir you
know as well as | do what | am worth: if
choose to give up work this day, | coul i
leave off and not change one shilling worth
in our way of living. Here | am, an honest
man and respected in all the place have |
gone off with quirks and fancies in my head ,
No, have stuck to my work ike a man.
and paid my way, and given in charity too
upwards =
Here Bathurst, who was devoted to his
younger brother, tried to stem the storm.
Father. be hasn't your head for business.
not even mine, but he has something have
not got. lie can see what is amiss, and
bring new light TO it. while am only try
Ing TO set things straight with the help Of
the old one. Hugh saved Us Il 500 last
year by that alteration in the spinning
mules There is that Frenchman's patent
he was speaking of last night, for spinning
the finest yarns it would be the very thing
now VIC are getting in the new machinery.
"IIollo Bat, said Mr.. Gourlay, recover
ing his temper and wheeling round sudden
" ''it was not college learning put that in
TO your head. Come now, let Us make
terms. Hugh wants a change. does he? let
him 90 over and travel for bit, and see
about the Frenchman' patent remember
it. I'll write him a line. lie left me his
address, and Hugh shall 20 and see it. We
will put by our savings TO pay for it, hey?
against the time he brings me home
daughter-in-law to help to spend the profits.
viii that satisfy ye, Hugh2' And 80 it
came about that Hugh Gourlay started one
summers day for Normandy with full in
structions as to the address of the ingenious
Frenchman, who was 10 add to their for
tunes. His father had given him one other
commission. lie was to bring home a
French poodle. Mr.. Gourlay had long
wished for one.
Hugh tried some short cut from the great
seaport where he landed to Joyeux, the little
fishing village to which he was going, and
the short cut turned intoa long belated
Journey. leading him by closing shadows
and rough country ways, by high cliffs, into
a windy darkness, through which he travel
led on hour afterhour, listening, as he iolted
on in the little country cart. to the sudden
burst of wild storm chorus, shrieaking
above the angry moan Of the not distant sea.
The sea note changed sometimes with the
wind that blew the pipes Of this giant mu-
sic but the rain dropped monotonously all
the while, and the iolts and creaks OF the
wheels turning upon stones, and the NUT
tering of the driver. did not vary very much.
The driver was drenched, notwithstanding
his striped woollen blanket he was an old
man. and he seemed to have accumulated
many oaths in the course Of long life. The
horses were patient, struggling and stumb-
ling. Hugh had pulled his wide-awake well
over his eyes, and sat contentedly enough
watching the solitary storm overhead, listen
ing to the thunder of breakers, and the on
slaught of wind and water. 1t all seemed to
take him out of himself. and he felt as if he
could breathe again for the first time for
many days.
"If had known, should not have come
out with my horses on such night said
the driver. Poor people have to 90 through
all sorts Of cruelties to please the rich. Ileu
Eu Who knows?' he went on grumbling
'.if the truth were told. we many Of US have
got as much credit at the bank as those who
call themselves masters. There is Madame
Baton-deyil take me, | wish the horses
were in her stable nOw-she has 10000
frances of income, and more than that.
Heu Eu, lie does not understand
one word-imbecile Englishman.
Poor old Pierre might be forgiven a little
ill-humor under the circumstances. His was
not morbid nature For him the storm
only brought rheumatism. lie did not aspire
to anything beyond good feed of corn for
the horses, glass Of hot wine and pipe
for himself, and asupper of garlick-stew that
Madame Baton was famous for connecting.
| For him the inner voice only said, Eat,
smoke, drink, Peter Bonvin, and tomorrow
when vou die NJ lc Cure will see to the can
dies for the altar of the Virgin, and get you
into Paradise, by his knowledge of the pray
ers and the saints. Pierre was not without
| hope that there might be as good wine in
| Paradise at at Madame Baton's. Why
not?
sChateau Iatouche,'' says Pierre, as they
shook and clattered under dripping beech
avenue that led TO the village. alt is the
house opposite the church, and as he spoke
in the darkness they seemed to pass between
sudden walls and the swaying of trees at
night. Was that booming the sea or the
wind among the church bells? Chill, mist
full night-spirits seemed about, a stir, scent
of leaves and clematis-old Pierre began to
swear once more by many Rs and SIS he
could not find his way one bit, and the wind
was rising-again the church clock struck
ten. and everything seemed asleep. The
children were asleep in the little room out of
mine, and a night-light burned dimly in the
window. Icould just see the two little vel
low heads lying on the pillow, and the great
black cruciiix hanging to the wall. Every
thing was silent in the great overgrown
garden except for the sudden gusts OF wind