Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1879-09-25

ilht tnlS DtlOIt.
"Who?-like what. Mark? ?"
"Why, the Squire"
"What is the matter now? Is he in one
of his mad fits? Has he done any dam
age?"
mo. And that is The worst of it. When
he takes it into his head 10 wreck din
ner service, or to play Aunt Sally with the
gSsss, | do not so much mind. SO long as
nobody is hurt. Such amusement Gains
him, and he always pays the bill"
The speakers were Mark Hartbrook and
Jane his wife, host and hostess OF the VIM
ridge Arms, Thornford The scene OF their
anxious interview, their own small snug
gerry behind the bar, the time OF it, an
evening in April. The Thorntord Hunt
meeting had taken place that day, and it
was now latter dinner with the stewards
and their friends in the principal room OF
the Winridge Arms.
Hartbrook bad abundant cause for anx-
iety The Squire, of whom he and his
wife spoke, handsome Gustavus Winridge,
Of Thornford Hall, was their landlord and
Mark former master. \ warm-hearted,
generous -natured fellow, imbued with old
world ideas of honor, he was, unhappily
Tor his personal peace and the habltuai
comfort of those with whom he was
brought IN contact, handicapped with
hot head and a spirit that brooked not the
least contradiction. For all his intermit-
tent wildness-w which would of course have
been harmonious traits in character Of
heroic mould, had he come into the world
at the proper time, three or four centuries
earler-there were few persons in and
about Thornford who did not speak affec-
tionately of the Squire. There was not
his marrow to be found in those parts
as a sportsman when he had youth to serve
him; and now he was grown old and some
what stiff in the joints, he could, as his
idolator expressed it, take his own part
with the best of them. Although he was
now shortleg in the Thornford Eleven,
there was time when he was equally
good in any part of the field, and he is
still to be relied on to face the fastest
bowling without pads, and confront it with
a rock-like defence. Albeit increased bulk
had somewhat hindercd his triumphs in
connection with the noble science, he was
as good as ever on the twelfth and kindred
days. But his awkward tines are a
trouble to his friends. as Mark HartbroOk
knew.
.Hc and young Dykely are flying at
each other, Jenny, and how the row will
end, don't know"
what. the Captain ?'' queried Mrs.
Eartbrook, with look of alarm.
Yes" replied mine host lyon know
there's been bad blood between the pair
ever since Mari got six months for poach-
ing on Dykely' sland Although the Squire
is a durable hand at preserving, he never
forgave him for prosecuting that young
scamp"
81 never quite knew why, Mr.. Winridgc
took so much trouble over that business"
20, that was natural enough Marls
mother nursed Miss Augusta, the Squirss
only daughter. and was with her when she
died at Madeira. The old woman went to
the Squire when her son was taken, and
implored him with tears in her eyes to
save the bad lot from being sent to prison.
He promised he would, and | know he
tried. When he found that Dykely would
not bulge an inch from his position, al
though he did pledge his word that the
lad should go for soldier. or be sent out
in the country anyway. he got Vellumly to
engage Riverags, the Q. c.. to defend
Marl and went into the witness-box him
self, and spoke for the son of his daugh-
ter's nurse. That had some effect, sup
pose, for Mari got only six months-if
they'd given him his due. it would have
been years instead of months; but Squire
Winridge never iorgave Capt. Dykely."
"What are they disputing about ?"
"Why, the Hunt Cup
But, if Dykely won, he beat nothing
from the HALL
That's nothing to do with it. The
Squire means mischief tonight. Go itr'
continued he, apostrophizing bell, which
shook above his head with unusual vio-
lcnce. II know whose hand is at the
other end of that wire, | must go; if any
body else faced him at that moment some-
thing dreadful would happen.'
Hereupon the bell was shaken with aug
mented terocity.
"All right am coming, Gustavus
the Terrible
With which satirical observation Mark
Hartbrook vanished
The scene in the dining-room as mine
host entered was literally one of admired
disorder. Halt dozen men were speak
ing at once, and two members of the COM
pany were accentuating their remarks by
means of gestures that betokened anger.
One was the Squire, who had risen from
his height-upwards of six feet-and was
standing with his back to the uncertain
mirror at the Presidents end Of the table.
confronting, with flushed face and danger
Gus eyes, his opponent, Cap. Dykely, a
thin-lipped dark haired, wiry man of pal
lid complexion. The voices could scarce
ly be said to mingle; Winridge's was at
the top of the entire discordant chorus of
expostulaton. He turned as Hartbrook
entered, and, passing one hand through
his yet luxuriant curls he folded his arm
across his chest and said:
.Hartbrook. want you.'
Il am at your service. SIR
.'My friend" slightly sinister empha-
sis on the word friend-"my friend Capt.
Dykely and myself have had dispute,
and we want you to decide it,"
you can," interposed the Captain, in
, voice and manner that IA less irritated
person than the Squire would have deemed
evaporation
ii know he can, sir, and that ought to
, suffice. Now listen. You were on the
holm to-day. and you saw the race for the
Cup?"
Il did, sir.'