The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1881-02-11
WAS HE MAD?
BIZ CHARLES e. GOLDEY.

you ever gone out OF your way to enjoy
a few hours in one of the many delight
ful, thriving towns which are scattered
like corn throughout that sunny land:
II not, then it has not been your fortune
toNiew the sparkling landscape Of Hazel
ton, quaint, quiet village, with modest
little homes, whose white paint glistens
in the sunlight, and whose gardens,
trimmed and orderly, exhibit blushing
roses and sweet-scented flowers peeping
from midst dense masses of green foliage.
Some twenty years back, there was
situated on the outskirts Of Hazelton, a
gloomy-looking mansion, surrounded by
a clump Of oaks and cedars which well
nigh hid the edifice from view.
Bolton Hall had stood the storms of
many centuries, but time seemed only to
deepen the gloom of it's surroundings.
The house was square in form, with a
turreted wing attached to its eastern
wall. This wing exhibited great signs
of decay, and its moldering walls and
prison-shaped windows enhanced the
general gloom surrounding the whole
place.
In this wing were the fortunes of the
Bolton race made; here were formulated
those thoughts whose execution had
raised Peter Bolton, gentleman, from
comparative poverty and insignifcance
to wealth and knighthOod; and here was
the splendor Of the same maintained by
a long line of descendants, terminating,
at the time of which we write, in Sir
James Bolton.
Sir James was q man who had just
turned his fiftieth year; of tall stature
and well-rounded form, with a face
whose keen black eyes could either
twinkle with humor OF sparkle with the
darkest of passions. He had evidently
lived well i'll the past, and his close-fting
vest betokened q rare appetite for the
delicacies of the table.
Sir James was q widower, his wife hay
ing died shortly after their marriage
leaving her blessing in the form of O
newborn babe to her youthful husband.
Ywenty-four years had transformed the
babe into q broad-shouldered young
man with blue eyes trimming over with
goOd-nature, while mouth and chin be-
tokened the resolution of the soldier.
Arthur Bolton had met Lucy Grey
while visiting village friend, and en-
joyed her society in many little picnics
and parties cotton up in the neighbor-
hood, and had declared his love and been
accepted. And now, the two young hearts
were patiently waiting for the day that
would bind them together in unity and
love-
ltwas a beautiful spring morning.
Crisp winter had lifted her feecy cover
ing from off the fields and flowers, and
nature was once more re-asserting her
lovely sway, breathing sweet odors
through the sunny atmosphere.
Arthur Bolton was strolling through
the gardens, idly putting clouds of smoke
into the air, and giving himself up to the
sweet reflections which love might beget
in such rosy bowers.
A rapid step sounded behind him, and
turning, he beheld his father.
GOOD morning, Arthur" said Sir
James, in CHEEKY tone. 81 am glad [
have found you.
"Why, my dear father" replied Ar
thur, with merry twinkle in his eyes,
edo you see your wild son so seldom
that the parternal heart is warmed at
beholding him enjoying cigar amid the
sweet perfumes of your garden?"
''Hal hat laughed Sir James; and for
a few moments both gentlemen INDUCED
in considerable merriment.
Sir James mirth finally ceased, and a
look of deep seriousness settled over his
countenance. Arthur turned around,
and thoughtfully studied the old house
which he had never called home.
Father, he exclaimed, wheeling back
to his former position, ''why do you not
have that old, broken-down tower torn
away, and erect q modern wing in its
place? | have often thought that it cast
gloom over our home, and this morn
ing 1t seems really forbidding."
Sir James raised his black eyes swiftly
to the face of his son, and darted keen,
suspicious glance at him. Seemingly
satisfied with his inspection he replied
IN his usual tones
''No, Arthur, your father has too few
moments OF seriousness to remove, at
this late hour, the only objects that chain
his thoughts to the past. But Arthur,
my object in meeting you here this morn
ing Is OF far too serious a nature to wait
longer. To-day, Arthur Bolton'-and
his voice became low and earnest-'the
fate of your father and your home lies in
your hands!"
"What"
'I am ruined unless"
Good heavens, father, what do you
mean?" exclaimed the young man with
startled eyes and excited tones.
UNLESS, " passionately continued Sir
James, you save me-
"Thank God, if it lies in my powerl"
was the glad response. "But how is it
to be done?"
My plan is very simple. My credi-
tors are beginning topush me to the wall.
can stave off the event for month.
and IN the meantime you can hasten to
MY plantation in Cuba-my last resource.
Straighten out its affairs. which have
through my carelessness become verv
much confused, and sell it for what It
will bring. | have no doubt but the sum
realized will cover all my debts, and
leave handsome margin. "
A look of glad resolution ightened
the face of Arthur as he replied:
will run over to the Meadows and
see Lucy tomorrow, and then awayi'
Sir James turned slightly pale. Shad-
ing his black eyes with his hand from his
sons gaze, he said:
" Miss Grey left town this morning. to
visit her aunts in London; and besides.
Arthur, it is of the most vital Importance
that you should depart this very after
noon.
This very afternoon!'' Arthur invol-
UNFAIRLY murmured, in a tone SLIGHTLY
saddened, for his thoughts were rapidly
travelling toward Lucy. his love. Rous-
ing himself from his gloomy reverie, he
replied, with force of cheerfulness:
Very well, father; will leave a note
for Lucy in your care, and this afternoon
shall see me off" And with these words
on his lips, the young man retired to
prepare for his journey.
For few moments Sir James Bolton
pulled desperately on his cigar. He was
refecting, and, as the thoughts chased
each other away, the varying expression
OF his face was marked and serious.
He is my son." he broke out fiercelv.
throwing his cigar far from him.. Good
knows love him, and fain would spare
him, but the hand of fate is closing about