The Worthington advance., 1879-01-09
A FAMILY GENIUS.

A FAMILY GENIUS.
BY Err1E ROGERS.
Fortunate is the family that is without
ito "black sheep" but blessed is the fam
lily that is without a genius.
It not unfrcquently happens that the
poor "black Sheep has been dyed his
Plutonian hue by malice or ignorance,
and that after leaving the unappreciative
fold for new and more congenial pastures
his wool is washed as white as snow by
those who more properly value him.
But the family "genius"-ah, we'll! VIC
have all met specimen here or there,
and are almost ashamed to confess that
in not few instances we were sadly dis
enchanted.
Nancy Develin was a family "genius..
The divine seal was set upon her the mo-
ment she came into this cruel, censorious
world; the divine atilatus was heard in
the first faint cry ana seen in the far-away
gaze of her wondering eyes. Assuredly
she was marvellous child, and surpris-
ing possibilities lay before her. 1t was
not strange, considering that the world is
proverbially blind to genius. and especi-
ally family genius, that she was given
most unpoetic and unsuggestive name.
However, the misfortune was allevl.
ated few years later when, the genius
discovered that 'Nancv" was convertible.
to .Anne," and that "De Velin' was the
more proper and aesthetic torn of the
prosy cognomen "Develin," so henceforth
she was known as Anne De Velin.
The gifted girl had many talents, un.
doubtedly, although the simple people
among whom she dwelt did not always
readily recognize them. But she was
admired and fisttered for more prosy con-
siderations. She was the only child of a
wealthy but practical and unlettered
farmer, who was fondly'indalecn toward
her in all things. She was really bright
and pretty girl, fairly educated and &C.
complished, and her wardrobe was ex-
pensive and stylish.
At e'gteen, Anne De Velin was highly
dissatisfied with a country life, and
yearned to know something Of the gilded
world wherein dwclt men who were not
all Doors, and women who were not all
drudges, and where on the wings of her
genius she might rise to that dszzling
station she felt she WAS fitted to adorn.
"Ean amt good fur much at hum,' said
the maiden aunt. who was housekeepeI
for Anne's widowed father, "and rec kon
never will be. She was born for the
pianner, and the books with yaler xiv
ers, and them are things she paints, and
calls pictures; but that ar about ALL
guess, seeing she kinder bankers fur it.
you'd better let her 90 TO town."
"What kin she do there's" inquired the
practical farmer.
"Wall," urged the aunt, "she thinks she
might git scmethin' she calls fame from
her verses and pictures; and the gals
rale handy at 'em, and she's purity, tu
and knows how to rig herself in them al
farbelows of hern like a ralc princess
born to EN-"
''Goll dan the varses and the pictures
and that ar other thing she'll get. Ful
my part, don't valur nothing that AIM
agood square money valur. I alters said
it, and say 1t yit. But the gal kin have
her way, as she's set on it, and ye kir
write to Aunt Crowly ind tell her Nan il
comm. II there's any thing in gal
she'll have right good chanc:
with Aunt CrowlY. But reckon shell
be glad enough to git back to the farm
agin arter a spell. Her wisdom teett
amt cut yit, and the sooner they be tn.
better"
Anne De Velin was in an ccstacy O
delight. Her Aunt Crowly was ga,
and fashions BILE lady, AMI had spoiled
the girl by profuse compliments. Ann'
had yet to learn that the p aise and fat
terry OF summer guest arc not alway
sincere, however agreeable they may be
and she hsd never yet visited Mrs. Crow
ly in :he city.
II wonder what Joe Sanders viii
think1' thought Anne, when she knew
she was realav going. She rather liket
Joe Sanders, who was sensible and fine
looking young land holder, and VIII,
adored her. Him she had never consid
cred boorish. nor was his persistent de
votlon obnoxious to her, although he wa
not at all the sort Of gentleman whom
she wanted for lover.
Anne De Veins ideal lover was DO
broad. shouldercd and muscular, ant
beared like Turk, hut he was tall ani
shapely; he was dark-eyed, aristccratic
ally pale, and hal gracefully-curvet
moustache. He wore elegant clothes,
diamond on his white hand, and pinl
bud in bis button-hole, and was as un
like Joe Sanders as prince is like
plough. boy. Aud this was the sort o
Romeo to whom she expected to play Ju
liet in the new grand city life before her
But she was quite too much of a coquett
to part lightly with Joe Sanders.
II really can't see what you want to q,
to the city fer. Anne," he observed, ver!
soberly.
The girl twisted snowy amethyst o.
her plump 6ngar, and looked as famil
genius is supposed to look when talkin'
With an inferior sort of person who is to-
hopelessly stupid to comprehend he
noble ASPIRATIONS.
"Well, Jou see." che answered wit
dignity. II was not born Tor this kind o
life. Something higher and sweeter j
necessary to one like me. You men her
BOW and reap, toiling on and plodding o.
year after year, never thinking OF tn
beautiful things you might give to tn
world by stroke Of the pen or the pea
Gil. Joe, life is q grand and gloriou
thing it lived as it ought to be. o, how
despise these poor, unrefined women VIII
are content to drudge like oxen, with n
rest and no amusement A little gossip
ing, little church-go and grea
deal Of soul-crushing work is enough fo
them. But one like me, Joe, must hav
something different"
"Ab, indeed; that is it, is it2' returne,
the young man, cycling the pretty egotis
with an amused smile. ''What do 70,
mean to make your life, Anne2 VIVA
willyou bef'
r; II mean to be great and famous wo
man." she asserted; II have not yet de
@cided how. Perhaps I shall be an artis
or = prima dona."
''Aud perhaps you will be my wife,
was tho thought that he did not utter.