Southern standard. (McMinnville, Tenn.) 1879-current, 1885-03-28
MAY MoRELAND.
CHAPTER III.
BY NJ. A. RIED.

bankrupt, leaving bernard 10 protect
and support his mother and only sis
ter. This, to the young and success
full artist, was an easy task until sick
ness came and deprived him of the
power to work. May Moreland had
known the family in their days of
prosperity, yet of Bernard she knew
but little until she heard of their ar
rival in the neighborhood and of the
young mans sickness. She had Wis
tied them daily, and there had sprung
up between her and Bernard friend
ship firm and true.
Returning from visit to the cot
tage one day, May turned her horse
off through the woods and walked
her horse along bride path leading
to a bluff which overlooked the river.
This bluff was one Of Mays favorite
places of retreat. When a child, she
had often stolen away from the peev-
ish ill-temper of her mother, and
came to this place to forget her lone
illness in the beautiful scenery around
her. Here she had sat for hours,
reading quaint, wild tales and old ro-
mances, until, TO her childish imagi-
nation, the water seemed an ocean,
over which sailed many ship Of
peace and war, and the rocks took
form of castles grim, from whose
towers watched the sentinel for the
coming of friend or foe. To this bluff
she now wendell her way, singing as
she went, in low, sweet voice, the
songs her childhood loved. Great
was her surprise to find an intruder
in her favorite seat, a gentleman with
sketching material, busily transfer
ring the scenery to paper.
Could May have stolen away unob-
served, she would have done so, but
the gentleman hearing the sound of
her horses feet, turned round, and
she recognized Clifton. After the
most commonplace greeting, she said,
looking straight at him with her
great black eyes:
"You have destroyed the sacred
beauty of my retreat by placing it on
paper for others to see and criticise.''
The remark was strange one, but
she was always saying and doing
strange things.
The sketch was finished, but in.
stead of an apology, he carefully
placed it in the portfolio and said:
care you always that selfish ?"
There was no resentment in the
tone of Clifton the question was sc
lindly-asked that May felt rebuked
She dropped her eyes and answered
with queer little pensive sound il
her voice;
"Not always; when l am, it il
owing to something outside of my
SELF"
81 understand" he said. "Peopl,
should not let circumstances cOntro
them when they can so easily contro
the circumstances"
81 don't see how"
"By moral force of character; w
can make our lives what we choose,
$50 have been told"
"And your own experience"
'"To the contrary"
"That arises from a false view G
the duties of life."
Suppose the duties of life clasI
with mans Unborn propensity; an,
suppose he has not the moral strengt
to overcome that propensity 2"
"Some life's'duties do always elias
with our Unborn propensities, bu
moral character can be strengthens
by exercise"
"And if our inclination is oppose
to the exetcise ?"
''In that case 1 know nothing be
ter than to bend the inclination al
other way"
EASY to say, hard to do. Ho'
would you set about ?"
"Set about it by the power of thu
mW which is implanted in ever
mind. You should feed the mind
you do the body; with the mo
wholesome food, even though it
not so palitable. Men do wrong b
cause they ,cW not do right-not b
cause they cannot"
"You are mcharitable," she sal
"You have no right to Judge anyon
Because you are strong you Won
condemn the weak. You belong
some creed which one is it?"
"None. hold no mans opinion
my rule of action; yet l know "
must confess that man has the pow
to cultivate both the good and Il