The Hickman courier. [volume] (Hickman, Ky.) 1859-current, 1882-01-27
The VICTIM OF A VIRTUE.
BY JAMES PAYN.

L am one of those persons, envied for
three months in the year and pitied for
nine, who 1" live little way" out of
London. In the summer, our residence
Is charming one; the garden especially
Is delightful and attracts troops of Lon
don friends. They are not only always
willing to dine with us, but drop in of
their own motion and stay for the last
train TO town. The vague observation
"any fine day." or the more evasive-
phrase "sOme fine day" used in COM
plimentary invitations, are then very
dangerous for rs to employ, for we are
taken at our word, just as though we
meant it. This would be very gratifyS
ing, however expensive, if it only hap
pened all the year round. But from
October to June nobody comes near US.
In reply to our modest invitations we
then receive such expressions of tender
regret as would convince the most skep-
teal q previous engagement " " in
disposition of our youngest born. - ssthe
horses i'll, - some catastrophe or other,
always prevents our friends from enjoy
ing another evening with us like that
charming one they spent last July"
They hope, however, to be given the
same happy chance again, "when the
weather Is a little less inclement," by
which they mean next summer. AS for
coming to dine with us in winter, they
viii see us further frst-by which they
mean nearer first. Sometimes at their
own boards we hear this stated, though
of course without any intentional apph-
cation. Some guests will observe to us,
apropos of dinners, at Is most extra
ordinary how people who live half
dozen miles out of town viii attempt to
ignore the seasons and expect us TO go
and dine with them, just as if it was
August, through four feet of snow. 1t
does really seem-as Jones, our excellent
host, was saying the other day the very
height of personal conceit.
AS we have occupied our present resi-
dence for some years, we have long had
the conceit taken out of US but we have
still our feelings. Our social toes are
not absolutely frost-bitten, and when
thus trodden upon, we are aware OF the
Circumstance. 1t grieves us to know
what Jones has thought (and said) OF us,
and my wife drops quiet tear or two dur
ING our drive home in the brougham.
am bound to confess it is rather a long
ride. l find myself dropping asleep be-
fore we have left brick and mortar be-
hind us, and as we cross the great com
mon near our home feel a considerable
change In the temperature. 1t Is a
beautiful, breezy spot, with lovely
view in summer time the playground
of the butterfly and the place of the bee;
but in the winter it is cold enough.
In the daytime there is nobody there
at all. In the evening, at uncertain IN
tervals, there is the patrol. In the old
times it used to be a favorite haunt of
the knights OF the Road; during whose
epoch, by-the-by, / should fancy that
those who lived In the locality found IT
even more difficult to collect their friends
around them than now. 1t has stlll
bad name for tramps and vagabonds,
which makes my wife little nervous
| when the days begin to ''draw in > and
our visitors to draw off. She insists
upon my going over the house before
| retiring to rest every night and making
a report of "AlPs well" Being myself
not much over five feet high in my boots,
and considerably less in my slippers Tin
which / am wont to make these pere-
| grinations), it las often suggested itself
| to nv mind that it would be more Judi
cious to leave the burglars to do their
worst, as regards the plate and things,
and not risk what is Ito mel much more
| valuable. OF course l could "hold the
lives of half dozen men in my hand "
"a quotation from my favorite author
by merely arming myself with
a loaded revolver; but the simple
fact is, 1 am so unskilled in the use
of any weapon (unless the umbrella
can be called such) that 1 should be
just as likely to begin with shooting
number one (that is MYSELF as number
two, the "frst ruffian." "Neverwill-
ingly, my dear" says to Julia "will
shed the life-hlood of any human
being, and least of all my own" On
the other hand, as believe in the force
of imagination, always carry, on these
expeditions, in the pocket of my dress
ing gown, child's pistol-belonging to
our infant, Edward John-which looks
like a real one, and would, am per
suaded, have all the effect of real one
in my hands without the effect of per
sonal peril. Miserable ruffians," had
made up my. mind to say when coming
upon the gang, "your lives are in INV
power" (here exhibit the pistols buttl.
"but out of perhaps mistaken Glenn
ency / will only shoot one of you. the
one that is the last to leave my house I
shall count six" (or sixteen, according
to the number of the gang), "and then
fire." Upon which they would, I cal
culated, all skedaddle helterpelter to