Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1882-01-05
A Man That Succeeded.

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My only daughter. sir" said Colo.
mel Monteagle. "And, as venture to
hope, accomplished in her way. We
are not much in the way of schools or
academies here, but / have been her
Instructor myself, and she is thorough
mathematician, an excellent musician
and a linguist of no mean capacity. We
are studying Hebrew now every day,
--sffe snd I. and she devotes her evening
to comprehensive reviews of her Latin
and Greek. She will be a scholar, sir.
If / live to complete her education r.
Mr. Crofton looked curiously at the
cddly-assorted pair-the silver haired,
shabblv-attired old gentleman, with his
bald forehead, eagle eye and delicately-
white hands; and the dark-browed,
sullen looking girl, with gypsy skin,
untidy frock and patched boots.
Pretty? Yes, she might be pretty
under some circumstances. The diamond
itself is not an attractive stone before
the lapidary's art has polished its rude
angles into glittering facets of white
fire. But she certainly possessed no
sweet. feminine graces now.
How old are you, Miss Monteagleg
he asked, finding it imperatively neces-
sary to say something.
And Mary Monteagle answered in
words, HSeventeen." while her looks
replied, plainly, None of your bust
nessr r
SEQ, my child, and gather some
flowers to deck our humble board, !" said
the old gentleman, magniloquently,
while he conducted the son of his oldest
friend into the tumble-down old stone
house, where the carpets were moth
eaten, the furniture miIdewed, and
every trace Of decayed gentility told
the sad story Of better days.
Mrs. Monteagle. who had been
beauty once, and had her portrait
engraved in q "Gallery of American
Rose-buds," !" was sitting up in state in
battered boudoir, in black silk dress
that must have been quite quarter of
century old, with flower in her
silvsr-sprinkled hair, and still preserv-
ing the girlish attitude in which the
engrarers pencil had immortalized her,
oddly contrasting with the sharpened
outlines and haggard abruptness of her
sixty-odd years.
And this was the way in which the
ldcouple lived. in the dead past as it
we're, Colonel Monteagle starving con-
tentedly on the recollection of his past
grandeur. and bis wife fondly fancying
that time had stood still since the days
in which she was counted worthy to be
one Of the American Rosebuds"
Mrs. Monteagle sweetIy welcomed
her guest and touched the little hand
bell at her side.
I'VE will dine. sarepta, she said to
the maid.
please, ma'an,, breathlessly uttered
that young person. ssthere amt nothin'
for dinner. We eat the last Of the cold
beef yesterday. and the dog he tipped
over the pan Of oysters, and
sThat viii do, sarepta," said Mrs.
Monteagles with red spot mounting
to each Ct her cheek bones. 81 said =
We viii dinep'
And Sarepta Withdrew with jerk.
Z The dinner was served presently-an
instance Of the magnetic power of will
but there was no cold beet, neither
were there oysters Fruit, thin,
watery sonp Of herbs and parsley, taste
fully garnished salad Of lettuce and
mayonnaise, and dish of peaches and
cream, formed the neal.
"Qaite Arcadian r. said HRS. Mon
teagia, With giggle.
sAnd very badly served secretly
commented Mr.. Crofton to himself.
HBpt the salad was nice"
"Where is Mary p the colonel asked
Drinking in the beauties of the
sunset. presume, the lady answered,
airily. The dear child has an artist :
aoal. and we do not tie her down to
any hours or rules e