The Mineral argus., 1884-06-05
TO LET.

I should like todescribe my hero q
a young and gallant cavalier of tn,
nineteenth century, with the beauty o
an Apollo and the wisdom of a sage
but truth compels me to acknowledge
that Rupert Smithson, in spite of his
hne Christian appelation, was neither
one nor the other. His nephew and
namesake, who was called in the bosom
of his family Rupert the second, said
that his uncle Rupert was ''crusty old
bachelor" and 1 hammer my brains in
vain for more fitting appelation. A
crusty old bachelor he undoubtedly was
more than fifty years of age with griz-
zled hair, heavy grey eyebrows, thick
grey beard and a gruff voice and man
ner. 1t is very true he was always very
careful to keep the crustiest side of his
nature on the surface, and had been dis
covered in the act of committing Sc
cretly, deeds of charity and kindness
chat belied utterly his habitually surly
tone and abrupt manner.
Twenty years before, when the gray
hair was nut-grown and clustered in
rich curls over the broad white fore
head, when the brown eyes shone with
the fire of ambition, and the clear voice
was true and tender, Rupert Smithson
had given his heart to Katie Carroll
neighbor and friend and little sweet
heart from childhood. Urged by love
as we'll as ambition, he had left his
home in a small Western town and
gone to New York to win a name and
fortune to lay at Katie's feet. The for
tune and fame as a successful merchant
came to him, but when he returned to
Katie he found she had left her home
also, to become the bride of a wealthy
pork dealer in Cincinnati. Nobody
told Rupert of any treachery to the
pretty Katie, of letters suppressed, of
SANDERS circulated, and of parental
authority stretched to its utmost in
favor of the wealthy suitor. He had no
record of the slow despair that crept
over the loving heart when the plead
ing letters were unanswered, of the dull
apathy yielded at last, and gave away
the hand of the young girl when her
hSart seemed broken. All the young,
ardent lover knew was the one bitter
fact that the girl he loved faithfully
and fondly was false to her promise and
the wife of another. He spoke no word
of bitterness, but returned to the home
he had fitted up for his bride, and the
business he had hoped was stepping
stone to happiness and life-loneliness.
Ten years later, when his sister, with
her son and daughter, came to live in
New York for educational advantages,
Rupert the First was certainly what his
saucy nephew called him, crusty old
bachelor. Yet, into that sore, dissap-
pointed heart Katie's desertion had so
the bachelor uncle took with
warm love and great indulgence his
nephew and neice, bright handsome
children of ten and twelve, who, child |
like, imposed upon his quiet good ma
ture and rioted over his quiet, orderly |
home, till his staid housekeeper de- |
Dlared they were worse than a pair of
monkeys; they caressed him stormily |
One moment and pouted over the refusal |
Df some monstrous indulgence the next,
md treated him generally as bachelor |
nnOles must expect to be treated by |
Iheir sisters children.
There was some talk when Mrs. |
Kimberly came to New York of making
ope family of the household, but the |
dea was abapdoned, and the wealthy |
widow selected a residence three doors
,ff, in the same block.
Rupert is so set in his idgety old |
bachelor ways she said, "that it will be
positive cruelty to disturb him"
Probably young Rupert nd Fannie
id not consider their bright faces dis
urbers of their uncle's tranquility, for
is quite certain that, out of school
ours, No. 46, their uncle's house, saw
hem quite as frequently as No. 43,
here their mother resided With the
ltuitive perception of children, they
nderstood that the abrupt and often