The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1881-01-27
WAS HE MADi
sY CHARLES E. eoLDEr.


n few hours in one of the many delight
full, thriving towns which are scattered
like corn throughout that sunny land?
10 view the sparkling landscape of Hazel
ton, a 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, surrounced by
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 its 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 snd
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 insignificance
10 wealth and knighthood; and here was
the splendor Of the same maintained by
n 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 nftieth year; of tall statue
and well-rounded form, with O face
whose keen black eyes could either
twinkle with humor or sparkle with the
darkest of passions. He had evidently
lived wen in the past, and his close fitting
vest betokened q rare appetite for the
delicacies of the table.
Sir James was widower, his wife hav-
ing died shortly after their marriage
leaving her blessing in the form of
newborn babe to her youthful husband.
Twenty-four years had transformed the
babe into broad-shouldered young
man with blue eyes brimming over with
good-nature, while mouth and chin be-
tokened the resolution of the soldier.
Arthur Bolton had met Lucy Grey
while visiting q village friend, and en-
ioyed 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.
Itwas o 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 n CHEEKY tone. 81 am glad /
have found you"
"Why, my dear father replied Ar
thur, with merry twinkle in his eyes,
''do you see your wild son so seldom
beholding him enjoying a cigar amid the
sweet perfumes Of your garden?'
"Ha! hal" laughed Sir James; and for
in considerable merriment.
Sir James mirth finally ceased, and q
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 modern wing in its
place? have often thought that it cast
gloom over our home, and this morn
ing it seems really forbidding."
Sir James raised his black eyes swiftly
TO the face Of his son, and darted q 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 nature to wait
longer. To-day, Arthur Bolton"-an6
his voice became low and earnest-''the
fate Of your father and your home lies in
your handsr'
"Whatp'
at am ruined, unless"
GOOD heavens, father, what do yor
mean?" exclaimed the young man with
startled eyes and excited tones.
Unless" passionately continued Sil
James, you save me-"
THANK God, il it lies in my powerl'
was the glad response. "But how is i
10 be doneY
My plan In very simple. Ny credi
tors are beginning TO push me to the wall
i can stave of the event for O month
and in the meantime you can hasten ;
my plantation In Cuba--my last resource
Straighten out its affairs, which hav
through my carelessness become YER
much confused, and sell II for what
will bring. have no doubt but the sun
realized win cover all my debts, AM
leave handsome margin"
A look Of glad resolution lightene,
the face OF Arthur as he replied:
/ will run over TO the Meadows an
see Lucy tomorrow, and then awayp
Sir James turned slightiy pale. Shat
ing his black eyes with his hand from b
sons gnzs, he said:
"Miss Grey left town this morning, I
visit her aunts in London; and besides
Arthur, IL is of the most vital importanc
that you should depart this very afte
noon.
"This very afternooni' Arthur invo
UNFAIRLY murmured, in tone slight
saddened, for his thoughts were rapid
travelling toward Lucy, his love. Rou
ing himself from his gloomy reverie, h
replied, with force of cheerfulnes
VERY well, father; / will leave no,
for Lucy in your care, and this afternoo
shall see me off," And with these wort
on his lips, the young man retired
prepare for his journey.
For a few moments Sir James Bolte
pulled desperately on his cignr He WI
rejecting, and, as the thoughts chase
each other away, the varying expressic
Of his face was marked and serious.
He is my son" he broke out fercel
throwing his cigar far from him. &c,
knows I love him, and fain would spa
him, but the hand of fate is closing abo