Iron County register., 1882-06-08
A TRAVELLERS STORY.
Told at a TransyaaI Camp fire

Told at a Transvaal Campfire.
in England. 1 was his only child, and
my mother died shortly after was born
Our land was rented from very large
landed proprietor, man who had made
his fortune in business. He bought the
estate about the time of my birth, and
came occasionally to live at the large
house attached to it, bringing his wife
and children with him. His wife was a
very kind but very homely person who
was liked by all the tenants. She was
very kind to me, and used to have me a
great deal at the Hail." as the house
was called.
"As 1 first remember her children,
there were three of them-two boys and
. girl; but before many years passed all
but the youngest child died, and then
Mrs. Clark, as l will call her, gave up
going to Manchester with her husband,
and always remained at the Hall, think
Ing the country air beneficial to her
little girl
"1he child's name was Lucy, and l
thought her perfect. She was but a
few years younger than /, and she and
L were constant playmates in our holi-
day hours. My father sent me to a
neighboring grammar-school, but kind
Mrs. Clark often supplemented the
teaching l got there by allowing me to
profit by the lessons given to Lucy by q
very accomplished governess.
"It was in this way that great love
of art was developed in me. had some
natural talent for drawing and painting,
and L eagerly availed myself of every
opportunity of cultivating it. Lucy and
l never spent happier hours than those
in which we used to 60 out sketching to-
gether.
cit an rises before me even now, like
picture: the morning sun glinting
through the trees and checkering our
path as we wound through the woods;
the discussion as to the best point of
view for our sketches; the calm of the
noon, when we used to stop our paint
ing and have picnic, feeling as if we
deserved some rest after such hard
work, and then our pretense of diligence
when we used to say: ooh, this will
never do, wasting so much light!' and
begin to paint again with renewed ardor
until sunset.
"Then how delightful it used to be to
wander slowly homeward, until we
SdihO W a SCi Stllc "IcIt we always
bade each other good-by, unless were
invited to go to spend the evening at the
Hall. There was a tangle of dog-roses
and honeysuckle sll around that stile,
and a plowed field beyond, with the
little spire of the village church showing
in the distance; and the rocks were al
ways cawing in the tall trees close by
when Lucy and L used to say good
night,
always with us, or believe we should
have kissed each other; but that was
put stop to when Lucy's tenth birthday
came, and we marked her tenth birthday
with a black cross in our memories in
consequence.
"Looking back I often wonder why
they let US grow up so closely bound to-
gether. suppose it never occurred to
them that any unhappiness might come
from it. The farmers son and the rich
heiress were sure to be separated by
as soon as she should be
into society, and in the
| aided in making her happy,
and was happy myself. L suppose
Mrs. Clark looked no further, and Mr..
Clark let his wife have her own way
about all things that did not interfere
with his own plans, and his plans were
chiefly commercial.
"Lucy was sixteen, and I was one
when Mr.. Clark one day
me by telling me that he was
going to speak to my father about send
ing me to Italy to study art. He sent for
me from his library to tell me this. He
sat in his armchair, in front of the writ
on which lay numbers of
papers, and | stood before him. L did
not know him well, for when he was at |
the Hall did not 60 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
his limited means allow" 1t struck a
chill through me, although INV heart
eaped at the idea of going to Italy.
IS The hardest part of it all was leav-
ng Lucy, but 1 felt bidding good by to
my old father very keenly.
Is went up to the Hall the day that I
vas to leave the old place. Mr.. and
Mrs. Clark and Lucy were in the draw
ng room when entered; Mr.. Clark
,land and patronizing, Mrs. Clark tear
nj and nervous. and Lucy very pale and
ileut. 1t was Il miserable affair, and l
Don ended it. Mrs. Clark kissed me,
md cried and called me her 'dear boy
While Mr.. Clark looked at her with a
mildly deprecatory smile.s Then he
hook hands with me, little pompous-
Y, and made a sort of valedictory speech
yhieh struck me as being like a funeral
ration, and all this time Lucy sat with
er head averted, and her hands clasped
N her knees. Lucy, my girl said Mr..
lark, 'are you not going to wish your
Id playmate good fortune in his new
feP' Then she sprang up and came
yer to me quickly. 'Oh, Frank she
aid, and throwing her arms around my i