The Canton advocate. [volume] (Canton, D.T. [S.D.]) 1877-1897, 1880-08-05
CHOOSING AN HEIR.

family through myriads of flying flakes
-pavements in that slippery stage when
the newly fallen snow gives beneath
your feet-sudden gusts driving the
storm into your face like shower of
pins and needles-and general sense
Of discomfort in the atmosphere-that
as far as pen and ink can render it, was
the state Of things upon that stormy
February evening when Marmaduke
Ferron stumbled over George Leslie,
and they had nearly shut the door in
Frank Fcssenden's face upon old Med
bury's doorstep.
81 thought, Do observed the former
gentleman, with slight suspicion of
embarrassment in his manner, "that I'd
just step round and inquire how my
uncle Samuel was after that last touch
of gout."
"Of course, of course" assented Mr..
Leslie, shaking the snow from his UNI
brella in the vestibule. Gas it was a
stormy night thought uncle Samuel
might be lonesome"
"And l." observed Frank Fessenden,
debonnairely, "have come hither, not
because. l supposed uncle Samuel cared
particularly to see me, or because I
found myself unable to exist without his
presence, but simply to ask if he could
help me to a situation" Marmaduke
Ferroll and George Leslie eyed the
third cousin obviously.
"Uncle Medbury don't like to have
favors asked" observed Ferroll, drily.
.I'm sorry for that said Frank,
''but can't help it,"
Excuse me, cousin Fessenden," )"
smoothly put in Leslie, "but all elder
ly persons have their peculiarities, and
my uncle is particular about ones
toilette"
"Once again Pm sorry" confessed
Frank, with rueful glance at the
threadbare seams and glossy collar of
his garnet; "but this is the best coat
I've got, and don't belive in running
in debt for another one.''
Just then the door flew open with a
suddeness that was startling, and a
sharp abrupt voice, not unlike a bark,
demanded
"Whos there? And why don't you
come in and have done with it?'
Mr.. Medbury was little bald-pated
man, with falcon-shaped nose, sharp
keen eyes like blue specks of steel, and
a smooth shaven skin-and he looked
like a second edition of Napoleon Bona
parte as he stood in the elegantly fur
nished study, with low fire burning
on the marble hearth. wine and wal
nuts on the table, and a bunch of hot
house grapes, half hidden in roses on q
silver basket beyond.
Pen, ink and paper were pushed
back, and a crumpled newspaper lay
on the carpet beyond Mr.. Medbury's
easy chair. The three nephews en-
tered accordingly. Mr.. Medbury greeted
them after his fashion; but as he went
to draw toward him the tray of fruit,
pen handle rolled off and fell, of course
with the point of the pen sticking deep
into the carpet. Mr.. Medbury uttered
" ter There's 5, my gold pen goney' lament
ed he. "My gold pen that have had
for quarter of a century,"
The nephews were loud in coincidence
and sympathy, but Medbury WAS like
Rachael in scripture, and refused to be
comforted.
"Will you hold your tongue?" brusque-
ly demanded he. cts bad enough to
lose an old friend like my gold pen,
but to be deafened by your howls is
sufficient to drive one insane"
And the three nephews subsidized at
once.
"Now then" said Mr.. Medbury abb
ruptly, still eyeing the broken nib of
his beloved gold pen, what do you all
want?'
s'To spend social evening with you,
sir, " said Leslie, politely.
"To inquire after your health, !"
smoothly remarked Ferroll.
"To ask favor Of you, sir said
Frank Fessenden.
''First wo-humbug!" barked the
old gentleman. 'Last one-probably
the truth What favor now, eh, Frank?
Mind, won't lend money. I never
lend a farthing, especially to a relative. !"
Fortunately it is not money that l
want" said Mr.. Fessenden with philo-
sophy. IT would like your influence
to secure me a vacant situation at Mel
lor & Moorham's
"What!" cried out the old gentle
man, ironically surprised, "a Fessenden
turning clerk?'
"a Fessenden had better work than
starve,' said Frank, drily.
"I'll see about it," said the old
gentleman. 4Now, then, go home every
one of you"
aSir!" cried out the uncle's nephews
in chorus, scarcely able to believe their
ears.
"Go home every one of you. Are
you deaf! I've lost my gold pen. I
don't feel in the humor for company.
Good night"
And thus Samuel Medbury dismissed
his anxious kinsman. The great
Jewellers Of Mellor and Moorharn was
no sooner open the next day than in
walked Mr.. Ferroll.