The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1882-06-17
Selett Sturp.
From Al The Year Round.
A TRAVELLERS STORY.



Nv father was a well-to-dO farmer in
England. was his only child, and my
mother died shortly after was born. Our
land was rented from a very large land pro
pr;eior. man who had made his fortune in
business. He bought the estate about the
time Of nay birth, and came occasionally to
i've at the large house attached to it. bring-
ine his wifs with him. His wife was a
very kind but very homcly person, who
was liked by all the tenants. She wAs very
kind TO me. and used to have me a great
deal At the HAL, as the house was called.
When / first remember her children
there were three of them--two boys and a
girl; but before many years passed all but
the Youngest child died, and then Mus-
Clark. as / viii call her, gave up going 20
MapeheStor with her husband, and always
remained at the hall. thinking the country
air beneficial for her little girl.
The childs name was Lucy, and |
tbouaht her perfect. She was bat = few
wears younger than |, and she and were
Constant playmates in our holiday hours.
Nv father seat me to . nsighboring gram
mar school. but kind Mr. Clark otten sup
plemenied the teaching | got there by al
lowing me TO profit By the lessons given TO
I.uex by very accomplished goyerness-
II wss in this way that great loye of
ART was Developed in He had sofne iat-
uraI saleat ftF drawing agd painting, and !
eagerly availesl myself q eseFy epEzFtunity
Of ealtiyating ii. Lucy and l never spent
happisr hours than th0e IN which We used
10 no aut skctching together.
II al risez before me even now like pio-
ture. the morsiag saa giiniIng through the
trees and eheckering cur path as We voand
through the wood; the discussion as 10 the
h,.Ss uSsiat Of view for car sketches; the
ealsa of tho noon when We used 10 stop oar
painting and have picnic, feeling - u We
deserved some rest after such hard work
and then our pretense of diligence when We
used 10 say.-~Oh, this viii never do,
wasting 80 much light r and begin TO paint
again with rcncwcd arlor until sunsct,
Thea how delightful II used 20 be to
wander slowly honlewsrd, until We came Ia
a certain s4ile where We always h@ie eaeh
other goodbye. unless | were invited to
spend the evening a the hall There was
4 tangle of dog-roses and honeysuckle all
aruund that stiIe, and plOved field beyond,
with the little spire Of the village church
showing in the distance, and the F0cks were
always eawing in the tall tFees elnse BY when
Lucy and / used 10 say good night.
The goxeness or irs- Clark was always
with us. or | believs We shogld have kiss,sd
each other; but that was put stop 70
when Lneys tenth birthday came and We
marked her tenth birthday with a black
eress in our memories in consequence
Looking back | often wonder why they
lei us grow np 20 closely bound together.
/ suppose il never occurred to them that
any unhappiness might come from il. The
farmers son and the rich heircss 1ere sure
TO be separated BY circumstances as soon as
she should be introduced into society, and
in the meantime | aided in making her
happy and was haPpy myself. ! suppose
Mrs. Clark hooked no further, and Mr..
Clark let his wife have her own about
all things that did not interfere with his
own plans, and his plans were chiefly CON-
mercial
Lucy was sixteen and was one andtwen
ty. when Mr.. Clark one dag astOnished me by
telling me that he was going 20 speak TO nay
/ father about sending me to Italy to study
art He sent for me TO come into his
library to tell NE this. He SAT in his arm
chair in front Of the writing table, on which
( lay numbers of papers, and | stood before
him. did not know him well, for when
he was at the hall / did not go there much,
and he called me young man, and spoke
Of my father as "a very worthy man, who
has striven to give you every advantage In.
limited means allow" 1t struck chill
through me, although my heart leaped at
the idea of going to Italy.
The hardest part of it all was leaving
Lucy, but | felt bidding goodbye to my
old father very keenly.
went up to the hall the day that was
to leave the old place. Mr.. and Mrs. CLARK
and Lucy were in the drawing-room wheT
entered-Mr. Clark bland and patroniz
ing, Mrs. Clark fearful and nervous, anC
Lucy very pale and silent. 1t was a mis-
erable affair, and | soon ended it. Mrs
Clark kissed me, and cried and called m'
her .'dear boy" while Mr.. Clark looked al
her with mildly y-deprecatOry smile. TheI
he shook hands with me a little pompously
and made sort of yaladietory speeel
which struck me as being like funera
oration, and all this time Lucy sat with he
head ayerted and her hands clasped on he
knees. Lucy, my girl, " said Mr.. Clark
''are you not going to wish your old play
mate good fortune IN his new life p Thel
she sprang up and came over to me quick
| ". "Oh, Frank = she said, and, throwing
her arms around my neck, kissed me. TIL
next instant she was quite calm, with
look in her face / had never seen before
believe she awed her father and mother
for there was no word spoken as | left tn
room.
I walked rapidly home, crossing the oil
stiIe for the last time. snatched piec