Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1884-08-07
CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER II.
MIX. wHITTLEsTAFP. r8-gfs
Mr.. Whittlestaff had not succeeded in
what he had attempted. He had felt
but little his want of success in regard
to money. but he had encountered fail
ure in other matters which had touched
him nearly. In some things his life had
been successful: he had never had
headache, rarely cold, and not touch
of the govt. He was now fifty, and as
fit for hard work as he ever had been.
He had a thousand a year to spend, and
spent it without ever feeling the neces-
sitv of saving shilling. He hated no
one. and those who came in contact
with him always liked him. He trod
on nobody's corns, and was the most
popular man in the parish. To tell OF
his misfortunes a longer chronicle
would be necessary. He had been OPP
posed in everything to his fathers
views. His father. finding him clever
lad. had designed him for the bar. But
he utterly repudiated all legal pursuits.
.sWhat the deuce do you wish to be?"
said his father, who was supposed to
be able to lea-e his son two thousand
pounds a year. The son replied that
he would devote himself to literature.
The old Admiral sent literature to all
the internal gods, and told his son that
he was fool. But the lad did not sue
coed, and neither father nor mother
ever knew the amount of suffering
which he endured thereby. He be-
came plaintive. and wrote poetry, and
spent his pocket-money in publishing it.
which again caused him sorrow, not for
the loss of his money. but by the OBJ
security of his poetry. He had to con-
TESS that God had not conferred upon
him the gift of writing poetry, and,
having acknowledged SO much. he never
again put two lines together. OF all this
he said nothing: but the sense of failure
made him sad at heart. And his father,
when he was in these straits, only
laughed at him.
Then the old Admiral declared that,
as his son would do nothing for him
self, he must work for his son. And
he took to going into the city and
specializing. Then the Admiral died.
and when Mrs. Whittlestaff followed
her husband. her SON bought Croker's
Hall, reduced his establishment, and
put down the man-servant whose de-
parted glory was to Mrs Baggett q
matter of deep regret.
But before this time Mr.. Whittlestaff
had encountered the greatest sorrow of
his life. He had loved young lady,
, and had been accepted-and then the
young lady had Tilted him. At this
time he was about thirty, and was abso-
lutely dumbfounded by the catastrophe.
He had been sportsman in moderate
degree, fishing good deal. shooting a
little, and devoted to hunting. But
when the blow came. he never rshed or
shot or hunted again. The young lady
would hardly have treated him so badly
had she known what the effect would
be. Her name was Catherine Bailey,
I and she married one Compass, who
made q considerable reputation as al
Old Bailey barrister His friends
feared that Mr. Whittlestaff would do
some injury either to. himself or Mr..
Compass. But no one dared to speak to
him on the subject.
Gradually he returned to gentle
cheerfulness of life, but he never burst
out again into the violent exercise of
shooting n pheasant. After that his
mother died, and again he was called
upon to endure a lasting sorrow. But
on this occasion the sorrow was of that
! kind which is softened by having been
expected. He rarely spoke of his
mother-had never, up to this period at
which our tale finds him. mentioned his
mothers name to any of those about
him. OF Catherine Bailey. who had
falsely given herself up to SO poor a
creature as Compass, after having re-
| ceived the poetry of his vows, he could
endure no mention whatever; and
though Mrs. Baggett knew the whole
story, no attempt at naming the name
was ever made.
Such had been the successes and the
failures OF Mr.. Whittlestaff life when
Mary .awrie came to his household.
/ The same idea had occurred to him as
to Mrs Baggett. He was not young.
because he was fifty; he was not an old
man. because he. was only fifty. He
had seen Mary Lawrie often enough.
and had become sufficiently acquainted
with her to feel sure that if he could
win her she would be loving COM
panion. He had turned it all over in
his mind, and had been now eager and
now bashful. On more than one oc-
caSiOn he had declared that he would
be whipped if he would have anything
to do with her.
To him to ask and be denied would be
a terrible pain. AMI as the girl did re-
ceive from his hands all she had-her
bread and meat, her bed, her very
clothes-would it not be better for her
| that he should stand TO her in the place
of 4 father than lover? She might
come to accept it all and not think
much of it, if he would take the guise
of an old man. But were he to appear
before her as sutton would she refuse
him? Looking forward, he could per
ceive that there was room for infinite
| grief if he should make the attempt
and things should not SO wen with
him. rs r4s~x5 $50 s. =
But the more he saw of her he was
SURE also that there was room for in
finite JOY. He compared her to Gath
crime Bailey. and could but feel that in
his youth he had been blind Catherine
i had been fair-haired girl, and had
now blossomed out into the anxious
mother of ten fair-haired children. The
anxiety had no doubt come from the
evil coLrses of her husband. Had she
been contented to be Mrs. Whittlestaff.
there might have been no such look of
care. and there might perhaps have
been less than ten children: but she
would still have been fair-haired.
blowsy and fat. Mr.. Whittlestaff had
found an opportunity of seeing her and
her flock, unseen by them. and d por-
ton OF his agony had subsidized. Still
| there was the fact that she had prom
ised to be his, and had become a thing
sacred in his sight, and had then giveH