The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1885-07-30

ADn IdIUlIldT VeTI0S WIFI dn VI LHeH1,
more or Iess-the. sad-faced, sad-voiced,
mild-mannered man who had written a
hundred screaming farces. the genial
and amiable author of The Lust of
Blood" the ligh;est-hearted old man in
London (and the crawliest work yet
printed), ct hoe genus onl'le-
But on a certain summer Monday
evening none of these ikeable people
were within the Cannibal precincts
| The waiter lounged by the buffet at one
end of the room and yawned porten-
touslv, his only amusement or distrac-
ton the killing of occasional flies with
the professional napkin, and Mr.. Cas-
sidy. in a terribly respondent state of
mind. sat at the comfortable and
turned over the pages of an illustrated
journal with unusually bilious opinions
about the artists engaged upon it,
nearly all of whom were his personal
friends.
The fact was that Mr.. Cassidy had
that afternoon (after suffering the
pangs of love for the unheard-of period
of three months) screwed his courage
to the sticking point and proposed.
The lady (whose father was also a
CannibaD had accepted him, and it
Lseemed probable that Mr.. Cassidy was
fairly caught The pitcher goes often
to the well, but at last it comes home
broken. 1t was not this reflection
which filled the accepted lovers heart
with gloom. In the ardor of the
chase, he had pleaded to be married in
three months time, and his plea had
been granted. At that moment he car
ried all his worldly wealth in his waist
coat pocket, and it amounted to one
and-sixpence. In these circumstances,
even an Irishman might well feel sober
for an hour.
Almost everybody was out of town at
this season; the theaters, most of which
were open to Mr.. Cassidy at most
times, were insufferably hot and stuffy;
and Mr.. Cassidy had nowhere to go,
nothing to do, and nobody to talk TO.
At that moment he would have well
coined the advent of his bitterest
enemy, if he had had one. and at the
rattle of the door he looked up with in
tereSt.
aha! Mont, me boy, ye're looking
Jolly. How are ye?'
''Dear boy" said Mr.. Montgomery
Bassett, shaking hands with ponderoUs
cordiality. '.And how is town? Stands
Scotland where it did?''
Scotland Yards where it used to
be- returned Mr.. Cassidy, frightening
visibly. Yell have Deen in the coun-
try among the daisies and the milk
maids, eh, my boy?"
"a fortnight's run at Oakenham,
responded Mr.. Bassett THE usual
thing. Coriolanus, Macbeth. Hamlet;
Hamlet, Macbeth, Coriolanus. House
crammed every night, and trimming
over. Hot? The very memory of it
burns my throat. George! whisky and
soda. Scosch. What do you take, dear
boy?"
Mont, me boy" said Mr.. Cassidy,
when each was provided with full
tumbler, and they sat facing each other,
I've news for We. He was so full of
his own secret that he would have
sprung it on the waiter had he been left
lonely for another ten minutes, and was
almost ready to stop strangers with it in
the street. I'm going TO be married.
What do You think of that:?"
You always were, dear boy" said
Mr. Bassett.
Now, don't" said the artist. with
grimace half peevish and half Groll.
I'm a gone man this time. It's as fixed
as the transit of Venus, and as safe to
happen.
..And who," asked the tragedian, ais
the happy wOman?"
Its that that fixes it." replied Mr..
Cassidy. 'She's a Cannibars daugh-
ter
''Quite family arrangement, said
Mr.. Bassett.
''Quite. It's Matilda, the only and
accomplished daughter of Horace Lev
erett, Esquire, scenic artist, of Mazda
Vale"
stick to it, dear boy" cried the
tragedian. .All happiness attend We.
l have my little budget of news Also"
"Ye don't mean to say YOU re going
to get married?p cried the artist.
Not /, =" returned Mr.. Bassett, "but
my little gyurl. William, dear boy, you
threw Sleeps eyes in that direction
once. She might have done worse than
take you, but in a worldly sense-in
worldly sense, dear boy-she has i'm
proved upon anything at the Cannibals'.
| received last night-only last night
an offer for her hand from the most
manly and charming young member of
our landed gentry with whom it has
been my good hap to be acquainted.
1t is moi secret, for the thing will be
in the Scour5e next week. The happy
mani think | may call him so without
vanity. dear boy-the happy man is
Mr.. George Weatherley, of the Grange,
Oakenham.
"Whew! That's a CATCH" said Mr..
Cassidy. 81 know him. He's worth
fifteen thousand year"
Extraordinarily" said Mr.. Mont
gomery Bassett, TRANQUILITY. Not that
he knew anything about it, but it was
pleaSanter so.
And what does the young lady say?"
''She confessed her attachment" said
Mr.. BasSett, artleSsly. The young
fellow has been following us about for
year. He tried to make it appear
that he followed me for the sake of my
acting Of course, dear boy, l saw
through that from the first"
'Of course We did," replied the
artist, perhaps with a reader assent
than the actor had meant to ask for.
1.-The presentation of Hamlet strikes
a responsive chord at times SAID Mr..
Bassett, "but that chord rarely vibrates
for year together. l began to Oh
serve. l watched the gradual growth
of affection on both sides. Last night
| was on the point of demanding his in
tentions when he anticipated me by a
proposal carried the news to Mary, !
who accented If with that modest iOv |