The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1878-04-11

Your poor father told you quite
right" said Mr.. Collett. Erred Sut-
ton was a man of t,llent-a capital fel.
low. His only fault was natural ina
bll1ty to keep farthing in his pocket.
Poor Fred he loved me I'm sure he
did. He bequeathed me his only child
and it isn't every friend that would do
that"
ga kind and generous protector you
have ever been !"
"Well, I don't know; I've tried not to
be s. brute, but I dare say I have been.
Don't speak roughly to you sometimes?
Haven't given you good, prudent,
worldly advice about John Meade, and
made myself quite disagreeable and tin
like guardian? Come, confess you
love this penniless nephew of m1ne."
"Penniless, indeed"
"Ah, there it is" said Mr.. Collett.
"What business has q poor devil of an
artist to fall in love with my ward? And
what business has my ward to fall in
love with poor devil of an artist But
that's Fred Sutton's daughter all over
Haven't I two nephews? Why couldn't
you fall in love with the discreet one
the thriving? Peter Finch-consider-
ing he's an attorneys a worthy young
man He is industrious in the extreme,
and attends to other peoples business
only when he is paid for it. He despises
sentiment, and always looks to the main
chance. But John Meade, my dear
Mary, may spoil canvas forever and not
grow rich. He's all for art, and truth,
and social reform, and spiritual eleva-
ton, and the Lord knows what. Peter
Finch will ride in his carriage and splash
John Meade as he trudges on foot"
The harangue was here interrupted by
a ring at the gate, and Mr.. Peter Fitch
was announced. He had scarcely taken
his seat when another pull at the bell
was heard, and Mr.. John Meade was an
| nounced.
Mr.. Collett eyed his two nephews with
| a queer sort of smile, while they made
speeches expressive of sorrow at the ma
ture of their visit. AT last, stopping
| them, he said:
Enough. boys, enough 70 said he.
'tIiet us find some better subject to dis
cuss than the state of an old man health.
| want to know little more about you
| both. I haven't seen much of you up
to the present time, and for anything I
| know you may be rogues or fools"
/ John Meade seemed rather to vince
urder this address, but Peter FincE sat
calm and confident.
"To put o case, now," said MIR. Col
| lett, "this morning poor wretch of a
gardener came begging here. He could
get no work, and said he was starving
| Well, knew something about the fel-
low, and I believe he only told the
truth; so I gave him shilling to get rid
of him. Now I'm afraid did wrong
What reason had I for giving him a
shilling? What claim had he on me ?
What claim had he on anybody? The
value of his labor on the market IS all
that workingman has right to; and,
when his labor is of no value, why, then
he must go to the devil, or whatever else
he can-eh, Peter? That's my philoso-
ply; what do you think?"
"I quite agree with you, SIR" said
Mr.. Finch; "pefectly agree with you.
The value of their labor ia The market
is all that lahorers Can pretend to-all
that they should have. Nothing acts
mere pernlciously than the absurd, ex-
traneous support called charity"
"Hear, hear!'' said Mr.. Collett.
"You're very clever fellow, Peter. Go
on, my dear boy, go on.
"What results from charitable aid ?''
|
is kept on an unnatural level. State
charity is State robbery, private charity
is public wrong"
"That's it, Peter p said Mr.. Collett.
"What do you think of our philosophy,
Johna"
81 don't like it don't believe it u
said John. You were quite right to
give the man a shilling. I'd have given
him a shilling myself.
"Oh, you would, would you?' said
with your shillings. Would you fly in
my, you vandal ?"
"Yes," said John; cas- the vandals
| flew in the face of Rome and destroyed
what had become falsehood and a nui-
sance."
"Poor John p said Mr.. Collett, "we
shall never make anything of him, Pc
ter Really, we'd better talk of some
thing else. John, tell us all about the
| last new novel"
They cohversed on various topics un-
| til the arrival of the invalid's early bed
time parted uncle and nephews for the
night.
Mary Sutton seized an opportunity the
next morning before breakfast to speak
to John Meade alone.
"John," said she, "do think more OF
your own interest-of our interest. What
occasion for you to be 80 violent last
night and to contradict Mr.. Collett SC
shockinglyp I saw Peter Finch laugh
| ing to himself, John you must be
more careful or we shall never be mar
ried."
"Well, Mary, dear, I'll do my best, u
said John. cit was that confounded
Peter, with his chain of iron maxims,
that made me fly out. I'm not an ice
berg. Mary"
"Thank Heaven, you're not y said
Mary; "but an iceberg floats-think of
that, John. Remember, every time you
offend Mr.. Collett, you please Mr..
Finch"
$50 I do" said John. eyes, Fu
surely remember that
eff you would only try to be a little
mean and hard-hearted," said Mary;
"just little to begin with. You would
only stoop to conquer, John, and you
| deserve to conquer"
May gain my deserts, then" said
John. care you not to be my loving
wife, Mary? Are you not to sit at
needle-work in my studio while I paint
my great historical picture? How can
this come to pass if Mr.. Collett will do
nothing for Us %
"Ah, how. indeed z" said Mary. "But
here's our friend Peter Finch, coming
through the gate from his walk. leave
yoa together" And, so saying, she
| withdrew.
"What, Meade" said Peter Finch, as
he entered, '' skulking indoors on a
fine morning like tnis? I've been all
through the village-not an ugly place