Buchanan County bulletin. [volume] (Independence, Iowa) 1869-1891, 1877-09-28
MY PICTURE.

Mrs. Leith Adams, in an English Magazine.
[ hate everything!
That is, [ mean [ hate evererything
that | don't like Above everything else
| hate other fellows to say to me, My
dear fellow, you ought to do this. or do
that"
Why Ought" I, CRANKY Wharf, to do
anything | don't like?
The fact is, I'm used up!
Year after year, season after season,
have I gone through the same tread
mill; dined with people who gave me
dinners | didn't like; danced with wo-
men l didn't like; gone to hear music |
hated, and walked my mare Bluelight up
and down that internal row until her
temper is nearly as bad now as her mas
ter's.
And all this / did because people
said | ought to do it! "
My cousin, Lady Amelia Graham,
says, with all the emphasis Roman
nose and an eyglass can give: CRANKY,
a young man in your position ought to
live up to it.
Bother my position! What's the good
of position at all if it isn't to let a man
do what he likes?
And yet I can't do what I like!
"Not been to the Academy" cried
Lady Amelia, as | lounged for moment
or two over the door of her carriage in
the drive; CRANKY, you are really too
absurd" "
mot been to the Academy! exclaim-
ed Miss We're Benderby. as we danced
those horrid Lancers at Mrs. Picton' s
the same evening; how droll you are!
You should go, you know; some of the
pictures are awfully jolly
Now l hate things that are awfully
jolly, and | hate girls that say awfully
jolly"
Well, the day after that I met Tenn
pest-capital fellow, Tempest; no non
sense about him-at least thought so,
till he said, as we strolled up the shady
side of Pail MALI
" must say ta-ta, Wharf; I've got to
meet some friends at the Royal Acade-
my. Been? Eh? No? You should 90,
though; some good bits of color this
year.
Now, isn't it too bad! And yet they
call England a free country!
| know that Lady Amelia wants me to
marry; she thinks that is the correct
way for man like myself to keep up
his position.
But I'sha' mt!
The old hall is a vast deal more COM
Portable without lot of women running
in and out of the rooms and complain
ing of the smell of smoke.
Besides, girls are such bores, nova
days, and if you do see a pretty face
Through veil, | mean) the chances are
that it will wash off.
Well, there's an advantage in that,
too; I declare, never thought of it be-
fore! She dare not cry, not even when
you refuse to pay her milliners bill!
But about the Academy.
1t began to feel quite like-well, you
know what [ mean, that unpleasant old
party in somebody's poem who wouldn't
60 away, and would keep on talking,
don't you know?
Everybody bored me about it; so, per-
haps, I'd better go, and then they would
not bore me about it any more.
Yes, I'll go and see the pictures, be-
cause everybody wants me to 60.
But | won't marry to please every
body: no, nor yet to please anybody.
I've seen enough of matrimony
When a man sees his fathers life
made miserable by woman's temper
his fathers heart broken by woman S
cold, unloving selishness- her try
to turn his own son against him, and to
alicnatc his friends-sees her worry him
in health and neglect him in sickness, it
is enough to make him fight shy of the
" holy bond"
But at last, at the very last, thank
God for that, his hand was clasped in
mine, his eyes looked up into my face,
as he laid the burden of life down gladly
at Gods bidding
My lady is happier now that he is
gone; she rules it right royalty at the
Dover House; his generous provision
for her makes the wheels of life run
easily, and | believe the only unwilling
guest that ever crosses her threshold is
her son.
Mother mine! ruined life, broken
heart, lies between you and me!
| can forgive the past, but never trust
the future, therefore we are better
apart.
No doubt people call me, behind my
back, brute and cruel, unnatural SON
to hold aloof, as I do, from that charm,
ing creature, Lady Wharf" but my la
dy herself is best pleased to talk of
dear CRANKY at a pleasant distance;
she and | never quarrel; that would be
" bad style" and my lady is the perfect
style.
We write civil letters to one another,
and take suitable interest in each 9TH
er's welfare, but always at distance
a distance that is pleasant to both. and
tacitly agreed upon.
My mother so far agrees with Lady
Amelia that she would like me to mar
ry; it is well | know this, as it gives me
the opportunity of avoiding any girl
whom she seeks to single out by her
preference.
What strange memories rise up before
my mind when | look back to the old
days at Wharf Hall-the days of boy
hood that held far more shadow than
sunshine!
One is especially vivid.
1t is that of child, little chap of
only six years old, who had accidentally
knocked down and shattered a hideous
china monster that was sort of " fe-
tish " of his mothers Gust then in the
height of an old china .furore). The
child's bitter tears shed over the ruins
of the beast. his pleadings for pardon,
his promises of greater care for the fu-
ture, how real they all seem to me as |
write. He was driven from the mother $
presence with hard words and cold
looks, and then | seem to see him wan
dering in the long corridors where his
ancestors look down upon him dark and
grim, and afford him no sort Of consola-
tion whatever.