The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1882-04-23

but never said a word.
One morning, however, the old man
who was as curious rs a woman-took
n in his head to find out whether it
rained fish, birds, and fruit. or whethe.
DE had still a friend in Blunder; and
posting himself behind the curtains.
watched the doorstep as a cat would a
mouse, till, to his horror, he deserted
The dark-eyed young professor in the
very act of depositing a superb haunch
Of venison.
"You %scoundrell you %villainl you
cowardr' shrieked the old man, In a
fury, throwing open the window; ''you
wretch! you poisoner! you p~ettifoggerl
you huckster! you ninny! you"
Here, as he could think of nothing
! else. he threw his wooden leg at him. :
The young man picked it up, and po-
/ iitely handed it to Martha, who came
running to the window, as by this time
did also half Of the Blundernarians-
who, being only half awake, and hardly
dressed at all, decided that the young
professor had been trying to poison the
old one; that he was discovered in the
act of trying to elope with Martha; that
the house was on fire; hat the old pro-
lessor was crazy; that he was drunk.
and a variety of equally consistent and
sensible opinions. But the truth of the
matter leaking out Gas IL always will,
little ones, no matter how deep they
bury it). the Blundcrnarians exclaimed.
with one voice, that the old professor
was an idiot and CT ass, and, as idiotI
and asses have no right to live, unani-
mously resolved TO starve him out, by
depriving Martha of the little work by
which she had been able to support her
father and herself. Only the minister's
wife couldn't be made to see that she
ought to starve afellow-creature because
he was poor and cross; and between her
and the dark-eyed stranger, who usedL
smuggle his contributions now into the
Kitchen, they managed to struggle OH
for a few months longer.
At last, one day, Martha found the
dark-eyed stranger himself in the kitch.
en-. and was going to blush and scream,
but concluded to cry, when he told her
that he was going away.
II have ruined your father" he said,
sorrowfully, land he won't let me repay
him; so you see l must 60"
at will do no good" answered
Martha. "Some one else will come. You
have taught our people too much.
They will never come back to Herr
W~orstanadrum."
But there is another reason" he
said. 81 am very unhappy. l love a
little blue-eyed girl, who is my next
door neighbor; but her father hates me,
and 1 don't think she would marry me
without his consent-do you?" And he
looked straight into Martha's eyes, as II
she could know anything about it.
81 don't think she would" answered
Martha, eff she is agood girl"
"She is very good, he said, positively;
$50 you see there is no hope for me, and
l must 60"
thing in his ear-to which he said: DO
you think soP"-to which she answered.:
II know soT'-on which he said: 'TD
try"-and went away. p.
That evening the professor was quite
alone, and the door was open. He was
wondering what kept Martha so long,
and grumbling terribly as he smoked
his pipe, when in came the dark-eyed
stranger.
II came to make my peace with you,"
he said, ~mournfully. II am going
away"
Take a seat, SIR" said the professor,
growing civil at once.
81 am going" he repeated, seating
himself close to the old man, '.for two
reasons. The first is, hat 1 love your
daughter Martha, and I'M sure you won't
let me have her; but the principal n
is-Herr Worstanadrum."
Herr Worstanadrumr' repeated the
old man, opening his eyes very wide.
Yes, l am tormented by the recollec-
ton Of your superior excellence. NY
style of playing pleases; it is popular.
Why9 Because tho vulgar can under
stand and appreciate it-just like the
childrcr like the primer better than
Cner" orationa Yours is the true
school-the only fountain of all excel.
lence. But it is only great minds like
yours that can comprehend the mean
ing Of such wondrous melodies like those
of Herr Worstanadrum; but to play them
-ah! that is reserved for you. l have
tried it, and failed"
REALLY" interrupted the old man.
hugely delighted.
YES, really. l am continually trying
20 recall it, but in vain. 1t haunts me;
1t crazes me; and since l cannot bear
the torture, l fly"
But the professor was already at the
long-closed piano.
oh'i ~ 81 away ny POSA IVY.
1 will play it for you every day, and
perhaps you might learn it by degrees.
1t is not your fault, you know, if you did
fail"
Impossible" returned the young
man, sadly. you are only too good;
but / cannot stay"
Not if l will give you Martha?" urged
the old man-as eager to keep him as he
had ever been to drive him away.
That might alter the case he said.
hesitatingly. But would you play the
adagio every day?"
Il will if you like" And he did.
And the young professor, with his arm
around the waist of his blue-eyed wife.
smiles as the old man crashes away NJ
Herr Worstanadrum," saying plying
ly: Poor fellow! he a never play it,n
Reader, It'll not probable that there
are any such cr~oss-grained, quaint,
crotchical, fog-brained old curmudgeons
nowadays; but if ever you should
chance to stumble on any. find out their
particular Herr Worstanadrum," and
go and do likewise.