Smyrna times., 1884-04-23

a sneli, where q dispirited kerosene
lamp had smoked its chimney into q
black cylinder; no chairs, the window
uncurtained; and the shabby bed.
spread was tattered and soiled until its
J pattern was beyond all recognition.
/ Oetavia's soul recoiled from this i'm.
persOnatiOn of hopeless poverty.
Can l do anything for you, Mr.
Ferrigan" she asked, after She had
tenderly administered the farina jelly
the fruit and the sponge cake, straight
ened up the bedclothes and trimmed
the lamp afresh.
It's very good of you, am sure. u
said the old man, with the plaintiye
courtesy of his nation. "And I'll not
deny it was word of comfort and
Kindness that l was wearying for. But
it won't be needful long, I'm hoping.
I've sent word to my son-he's book
binder, miss, and doing we'll at his
trade, but it is natural like. don't YOU
seer as he wouldn't like to be dragged
down by such useless old clog as
mew 80
But he is your son, isn't hep" cried
Octavia; "and you're his father?"
Faith, and that's true, miss, dear. -
said old Ferrigan, with sigh. "But
mes line, ambitious young mana
rale .gintleman to look at, and of a
Sunday you couldn't tell him from the
gentry themselves. An he may marry
a grand lady yet-who knows?-an'
ne wouldn't like me to be spoilin' his
chances. So just keep dark, Miss
Glenn; an sometimes | think-Lord
forgive me that I'd be better dead an
out of the way. But l sent word to
him day before yesterday. AM he'll
COME think he'll comer' the. old
man added, with scarcely audible
sigh.
AT that moment a careless step came
up the stair-the door was pushed
open and tall figure strobe in.
Sick again!" said petulant tone.
IL appears to me, old gentleman.
Chat It's your chief mission in life to
make trouble for other people. Well,
what is it now? If it's money YOU
want you may as well understand first
as last, that l can't let you have anv.
You'll have to swallow that absurd
prejudice ofyeurs against charitable in
stltutions, Or"
He stopped short, impelled by the
hurried gesture of the old mans hand.
Somebody's here?" said he, peep
ing through the semi-darkness. "Weil,
why couldn't you say so? Who is it?
The old hag downstairs, Or"
1T is ], Mr.. Fitz Arragon," said
Octavia., quietly advancing Octavia
."Oh | beg thousand pardons!'
said Mr.. Fitz Arragon, hurriedly as
suming his company manners. "IfI
could have imagined that such an
honor as this was in store for me-"
don't know what you mean by
such honOrs," said Octavia bluntlv.
" am a working girl; YOU are a book
Oinder, We have neither of us any
reason to be ashamed of our calling:
yet see no necessity for fine language
and stilted titles. Your poor old
father is very ill, and seems to be in
need OF the commOnest necessities of
life. Suppose you sell your diamond
ring and help him?"
That was the end of Mr.. Fitz ARA
gon's pretentious. He never came
back to the country solitudes again. to
Fernando Glenn's bitter disappoint-
ment.
But how could he face them all. after
it was discovered that his "author-
ship" of Stray Leaves" and " Float
ing Fancies" was confined to putting
the covers on the same, and that the
real author was stout, short, old gem
tleman in spectacles, and that even his
name was fabrication of his own in
geniOus brain?
Old Mr.. Farrigan died. Perhaps, as
he himself had hinted, it was the best
and wisest thing he could do.
But Octavia GleDn's kindness and
watchful care soothed his last hours.
and she had the satisfaction of getting
the price of decent funeral out of the
ambitious son.
g A jay in borrowed plumagev' she
thought. II never despised any one
so much in nay lifeW
And when Fernando bewailed her
delusiOn, old Grandfather Glenn only
smiled and said:
Didn't 1 tell you that he was only
electro-plated?"