Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1881-03-05
THE MAJORS VALEDICTIoN.

u
main street of Ballykillrowdy was pleas
ant to behold. He was not strictly a
handsome man, perhaps, but he had the
air Of being handsome man-an air of SO
much nonehalance and good. humored tri-
umph that it imposed on most people and
sent them away with the notion that the
Major was an Adonis. He had one of the
grandest figures | remember to have seen.
Strength sat side by side with grace on
his broad shoulders, and the carriage OF
his head was in itself sort of wonder OF
high temper and vivacity. His mustaehes
took splendid downward sweep; his
hat raked little the tips of the fingers
of his left hand entered his trousers pocket;
his right hand bore a cane, which de-
scribed, as it were of its own volition,
circles and segments Of circles. He
took his way smiling, and his bright gray
ewes and faultless teeth made his face look
as CAV as sunshine. This, when / come
to look 20 it, reads like the description of
handsome man but, ike the Majors
air, there is a certain imposition in it,
though | know not how to lay my finger
on IT,
Ballykillrowdy was mainly owned by
Miss Vivian Blake, q young lady of charm
ing exterior. who rode to hounds under the
escort OF az ugly male second cousin whom
the Major loathed. But such part of Bal
lykillrowdy as was not owned by the beau
tIful Miss Blake was owned by her ugly
male second cousin, and the popular i'm
preston was that Miss Blake and the
cousin would make match of it. Against
this popular belief the Major chafed, as
Socrates might have riled up against de-
crepit syllogism. 1t may be said of the
Major that he had an air of prosperity,
which was greatly more deceptive than his
air of physical beauty. Had his creditors
met in conclave they might possibly have
decided among them a problem of some
interest How did the Major live? He
owned neither lands nor messuages. Like
his look Of beauty and his air of prosperity,
his very title was misleading to the
stranger He had never held commission
anywhere, in anything but man with
such a figure ought to have been Major
if the rank had been created especially that
he might ornament it, the thing had
seemed most fitting and admirable-and,
in short, the title was a popular tribute,
unsought by him, conferred upon him by
nature so il seemed, and adopted without
one dissenting voice by the public OF Bally-
killrowdy, and Endorsed by the members OF
the Ulster in lordly Belfast.
Noveligts and other social moralists have
often been cynical, at small cost, with re-
spect to the affection entertained by an I'M
acred gentleman for a well acred lady.
But, as Boccaccio and Mr.. Tennyson will
tell you, real attachment is not altogether
impossible under such conditions The
Major was madly IN love-not with Miss
Blake's landed possessions, but with Miss
Blake. Time had made his first inroads on
the poor gentleman's close clustering hair.
He was bat two and-thirty but some men
age early, and | have never heard that
partial or even complete badness gives
safety against the assaults OF the grand
passion. The ugly second cousin, his own
poverty, the rapidly-increasing width Of
and Vivian's kindness, combined together
to fret the Majors heart. Yet the Irish
elasticity Of mis- temperament constantly
pulled him out of the depths of his de-
spondency, though it as constantly suffered
him to fall again. Spiritually, he resem-
bled an infant seated In that American in
vention, ." the baby jumper. and he went
up and down on the most insignificant
provocation.
In perfect seriousness. but with an Irish
sense of rhyme, he wrote ballads ON his own
condition and 80 his mistress eyebrows.
Permit that the Muse OF History conserve
verse The title of this story should,
perhaps, have been Some of the Majors
Valedictions :" or, ''The Majors Last
Valediction," for during the years of his
passion he was always bidding farewell, In
terms more or less affecting, to the ador-
able Vivian. sc As for me, wrote the
Major, after wishing Vivian all happiness,
even with the ugly second cousin:
And as for me, there's Fiji and Tahiti,
Aud l1rs OF other places fit to die in;
And when ! am dead your smallest sigh OF pity
VIII reach and t,riU even where I'm lying
It was an honest passion. The poor fell
low was fairly hooked. All manner of
ambitions began to bestir themselves for
there was more in him, or at least he
thought so, than the helpless power to
dream of good luck over bottle of the
club Pommard, or glass of hot Irish as
the state of the funds might order. Per-
haps the title conferred upon him was not
without It's influence upon his dreams.
I'd hang me harp on willow tree, an
off to the wars again" said the Major /;
but ! haven't harp, or the funds to buy
one and there's no willow tree handy,
and no wars convenient the Lord be good
to me :"
Whether Phil Durgan, the ugly second
cousin had or had not in his own person
exhausted Che family stock of physical I'M
happiness, cannot tell but l know for a
fact that. his sister was as pretty as Vivian
herself If knew of anything prettier |
would compare her to it, but | do not and
in these declining days am not likely to
find it. Whose is the hand that shall, by
the aid of movable types, describe pretty
girl Mine has no cunning. II say that
each of these young ladies was ravishing
nineteen and Irish, l have done my best.
Like Rosalind and Celia, they learned,
played and ate together, and wheresoer
they went, like Juno's swans, still they
went coupled and inseparable. 1t followed
that if Phil Durgan had known as much
as was known to his sister Julia, he
would have known more of Vivians
likings than he knew In that case
the ineffsble satisfaction which commonly
Illuminated his foggy features might have
dimmed little. Yet, why should l tri-
umph over ugly Phil Your story teller is
rarely contented unless he flogs his rascals.
Dickens, for example, gloated over the buff
fets dealt by his popular to his unpopular
people With what a gusto he hogs
Squeers! How rejoicingly he throws
Wegg into the scavenger's cart With
what exquisite exultation he tells the story
of Pecksnif's thrashing 1t is in my
power to administer to Mr.. Philip Durgan
such horsewhipping as never yet mortal
received but, as l am strong, l will be
merciful. Phil, as the late Lord Lytton
said of somebody, was uglier than he had a
right to be. There is certain Irish type
of face which trenches perilously on the
aspect of the gorilla; and Phil, who was
naturally gifted in this direction, improved
his chances by the disposition of his hair
and whiskers He had all the graces of a
lady-killer, as an initiative ape might have
them. lie had a brogue man might have
hupo his hat IN and he1iaved that ba