The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1883-08-30

And now we sink to sweet repose-
Our slumoers are serene.
Eugene j. Hal, IN Chicago Tribune.
KING PEPN AND SWEET CLIVE.
Upona arriving at the middle of the Close
the Dean stopped. He had been walking
briskly, his chin from very custom a little
tilted, but his eyes beaming with conde-
scension and general goodwill, while an
indulgent smile playing about the lower
part of his facerelievedfo for the time its mas
sive character. His walking stick was
swinging to and fro in a loose grasp, his
feet trod the pavement of the precincts
with the step of an owner, he felt the
warmth of the sun, the balminess of the
spring air dimly, and somewhere at the
back of his mind he was conscious of q
vacant Bishopric and of his being the hus-
band of n wife. In fine, he presented the
appearance of acontented, placid, %unruf1ed
dignitary until he reached the middle of
the Close.
came to the ground with a mighty thud, the
sweetness and light faded from his ayes as
they.rested upon Mr.. Swaimson's plot, the
condescension and goodwill became con-
s~picuously only by their absence. The
Dean was undisguisely angry; he disliked
opposition as much as lesser men and met
with itmore rarely. For icesteris old-fash-
Toned and loves the Church and State, but
especially the former, and looks up to
principalities and powers, and even now
execrates the memory OF a recreant Bices-
trian, otherwise reputable, on account of a
terrible mistake hemade. 1t was at a pub
lie dinner. 81 remember" said this mis-
guided man, "going in my young days to
the old and beautiful cathedral of this city.
CGreat applause.l I was only a child then,
and my head hardlyreached above the top
of the seat. but l remember I thought the
Dean the greatest of living men. [Whirl-
winds of a%pplause.l Well, [smilingl per-
haps l don think quite that now" Dead 81
lence.l And so dull at bottom may even a
mai be whose name is not unknown in half
fellow never could guess whythe friends OF
his youth from that moment turned their
backs upon him.
Such is the faith of Bicester, but even in
Bicester there are heretics. To say that
the Dean rarely met with opposition is to
say that he rarely met with Mr.. Swanson,
and hat he seldom saw Mr.. Swainson's plot.
As a rule when he crossed the Close he
4verted his eyes by a happy impulse OF
custom, for he did not like Mr.. Swanson,
and as for the l~atter's plot it was GRdthemd
mdrdndthG to him. The Dean was tall, Mr..
Swanson was taller; the Dean was stub.
born, Mr.. Swanson was obstinate; so there
arose between them the antagonism that is
born of similarity. On the other hand the
Dean was stout and Mr.. Swanson a scare.
crow; the Dean was comedy and clerical
but not over-rich; Mr.. Swanson was pallid
lantern-jawed, wealthy, and a lawyer, and
hence the dislike born of difference. More.
over years G MIR. Swanson had beer
Mayor of Bicester, when there was a little
dispute betweenthe Chapter and the Bishop
and ne showed SO much energy upon the
one side as to earn the nickname of the
mayor of the Palace" Finally, Mr.
Swanson delighted in opposition as a ca,
IN milk, and cared to have a good reason
for his antagonism no more than puss il
the dairy about a sixty years title to the
cream-pan.
But a sixty years.. title to his plot wa.
the very thing Mr.. Swanson did claim tx
AVE. Exactly opposite his house-hii
fathers and g~randfather's house, too-il
which, said his enemies, they had lived ant
grown fat upon cathedral patronage, la,
this debatable land. His front window
commanded it, and on such a morning a
this he loved to stand upon his Doorstep
and gaze at it with the air of a dog watch
ing the spot where his bone is buried. Blu
Ii MI. Swanson was right, that was Jus
what was not buried there; there are N,
bones there. True, the smoothly shorl
surface of the little patch was divided from
the green turf around the cathedral onl,
by a slight iron railing, but, said MI
Swanson, ponderously Selling upon hi
opponents weapon and using it with tell
ing effect, it was of another sort altogether
AObnAO AhNkCCoa LII ud
never been consecrated, and close as it wa
to the sacred pile, being in fact separate
from it on two sides but by a yard of sun
fence, it did not belong to It, it was not c
1t quoth he;it was private property, tn
property Of Erasmus John Swanson, an
the appanage Of his substantial red-bric
house just across the Close.
And no one could refute him, though Sc,
eral tried their best, to his huge delight. ]
cannot now be exactly computed by no
many years the discovery of his rights pr
longed his life-not certainly by some. HI
liver demanded activity, namely, a qua.
rel, and what a coil this wasi If he ha
been given the choice of opponents he woul
probably have preferred the Dean an
Chapter, they were so substantial, wealthy
and all but formidable. And such a thor
In the side of those comfortable parsonage
as these rights of his were like to be i
could hardly have imagined in his mo
s~auguine dreams or hoped for in his happ
est moments.
1t was great fun stating his claim, lou
ing it in their faces, displaying it throug
the city, brandishing it in season and OF
of season, but when it come to making
hole in the smooth turf hitherto so sacre,
and setting up a N unsightly post and afi.
ing to it a board with ''Trespassers will |
prosecuted. E. j. SWANSON" the fun b
came furious. So did the Dean, so did ii
Chapter, so did every salesman and verge
Bicester was torn in pieces by the conten,
ing parties, but Mr.. Swanson was fir
The only concession that could be wrur
from him was the removal of the obnoxiol
board. Instead of it he placed a neat ire
railing round his property, inclosing ju
thirty feet by fifteen. Such was the stat
in quo on this morning, and with it the Dee
had for some time been obliged to rest CO
tent.
And yet, sooth to say, the greatest plea
ure of the very reverend gentleman's Ii
was gone with this accession to the roun
ness and ~fullness of Mr.. Swainson's. \
more with the thorough satisfaction of hit
erto could he conduct the American ira
eler through the ancient crypt, or dila
upon the beauty of the quaint g%argoyles
the Marquis of Bicester's visitors. No; i
deed, that railed-in spot was a plague-sp
to him, eyer itching, aneye-sore even VIII
invisible, a thing to be evaded and dodg
and given the slip, as a Dean who is a De,
should scorn to evade anything mortal. ]
WINGED at the mere thought that the inqu
tive sight-seer might touch upon it, mig
probe the matter with questions. He hr
ried him past it with averted finger a
voluble tongue, nor recovered his air
kindly condensation, or polished ease, {
thec case might be- until he was safe with
his WI hall. Only in moments of forg,
fulness could the Dean now walk in his oy
Close of Bicester with that easy grace
old times.
But on this particular morning the 81
shine was so pleasant, the wind so balm
that he walked halfway across the Gle
as if the River of Lethe flowed fathol
deep over Mr.. Swainson's plot; then
CHANGED that his ewes in aheedless nome
rested upon it, and he saw that a man "
at work in the tiny i~nclosure, and
paused. The eanknewsMr. Swanson