The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1878-10-18
A Great Fool.

over, he looked like bis name, or like the
image which the sound Of his name, In q
musical ear, would call up in the mind.
For Johns should be strong, and quiet,
and true, and grave, and John Holt was
all of these. Also, the name indicates
that this John was not given to super
auous ornament either of person or man
ner. Physically he was so we'll pro-
portioned that his weight could scarcely
be guessed, and so broad-shouldered that
you had to set him beside another man
in order to realize his superior height.
His skin was fair and his eyes blue, but
the hair, which had been tow-colored in
his childhood, had deepened to brown.
Ordinary persons would call him good
looking rather than handsome, but a
close observer would pronounce his pro-
file perfect, and his mouth and chin
models of firm and symmetrical chisel-
ing. The brows were straight and
strong, though smooth, and his not very
high forehead was broad and open. Al
together, it was such face as would
look we'll carved in granite, and had in
life, indeed, somewhat granite look;
for John Hollis face was not one of those
which are called expressive, but wore, in
repose pretty nearly always the same
look.
John did not grow wiser as he grew
older, and took upon himself the cares of
life. Mrs. Holt had large and valuable
farm just on the borders of the town.
Streets had crcpt gradually about her
fields, and surrounded them on three
sides; on the fourth woodlands stretched,
back toward the east. Why she should
give the control of this place to John, in
stead of to one of his sharper brothers
was a puzzle even in her own mind. The
only reason she could give was that John
was steady and quiet, and more likely to
remain at home than the others were.
But she confessed to herself to be in con-
tinual tribulation with him.
"My dear" she said, to a crony, "you
know that fifty cords of wood we had,
good beech, birch and maple, with not
more than twenty sticks of spruce
through the whole? Well, John must
mention that stove-full of spruce, and so
lose five dollars on the bargain. never
did see such fool. Then he wanted to
hurry off our potatoes last Fail for fear
of rot. told John particularly not to
own to a speck; but, if you will believe
it, when Thurlow came to buy them, and
asked if he had seen any signs of rot,
that ninny said, Yes, little though l
VOW don't believe there were six spots
larger than the head Of pin in the whole
lot. don't know where the fellow got
his shiftlessness. I'm sure could al
ways make a bargain"
John took al this very quietly as we
have said.
He never got angry with her. How
could he? But sometimes shadow
would drop over his face, and he wouldn't
have much to say to her for time.
Then, when she went to him with her
coaxing ways, and laid her little hand
on his arm, whispering:
"Now, don't be vexed, John; like you
so much; but don't want you to talk
nonsense" he would look down and smile,
though not very brightly, and promise
to try to avoid nonsense for the future,
ending his promise with sigh.
"Dear mel I do wish you wouldn't t
sigh so, John = the girl would say, pet
tishly. at makes me feel melancholy to
hear you. One would think had done
something dreadful to you"
Then John Holt would smile again,
still less brightly, and promise to try not
to sigh any more.
Such little scenes as this were mere
asides, however. Nellie usually paid but
little attention to John, being chiefly
occupied in dancing, flirting, and quar-
reling with his more snowy brother
Frank, or with any other gay fellow who
was so unfortunate as to be taken with
her pretty face. For Nellie was an in
corrigible flirt. It was only when she
had no one else to talk to, or wanted to
pique some other lover, or when she
wanted some real service, that she went
to John, who was sometimes pleased and
sometimes hurt to see that she came tc
him only when she wanted help or ad.
vice
"You are a sort of grandfather, you
know she said one day, giving his arm a
squeeze. 81 have an idea that you are
about seventy-five years old. How old
are you, John?"
81 am just one-third of that" he said
smiling. 81 am only month past twen-
ty-fve.'
Possible? Well, you must have beer
yery old when you were born. Beside