Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1885-07-15
MY FRIEND EDITH.
STORY OF A BACHRLOR
Temple Bari
CHAPTER 1.

CdAH LEN i.
have been accustomed for some time
longer than / can remember, to describe
myself as a man of middle age, yet people
speak of me as an old Notwithstanding
in derision, but frequently, I fancy, with
envy.
Yes, 1 am bachelor-the ajective con-
slider unuecessary-rather by mischance
than anything else, for 1 never started on
life with any intention of celibacy, or when
young asserted myself agressively on the
subject.
All! all might have been very different if
but that has nothing to do with the sto-
ry. At all events, am bachelar now,
and intend to remain one. My-well, the
physical disadvantages which time has
brought tendency to embonpoint, and
and more than partial badness although
allies, are scarcely sufficient protection, for
l continually see such Benedicts as myself
striking their colors and falling victims,
mellow and Over-ripe, or even withered and
gray ones, to brisk widows or bright-eyed
maids hardly out of their teens. But I am
made Of sterner stuff; and having been
exposed-for I am a man of property-to
several severe tests, and having come off
unscathed from the encounter, may just
ly conclude that my heart is Cupid proof,
and so / journey on in middle aged medi-
tation 'fancy Free" I am sure I could
have made one woman happy, if had had
the chance, but l never did. 1t is too late
now, SO must be content with making my
self happy, thing not so easy as it looks,
for this work-a-day world is full of briars,
even for old bachelors. 1t is fortunate
that have no encumbrances, for my nerves
are not strong; the least bother interferes
with my digestion, although, if people will
let me alone, am peptic enough. have
only one relative in the world-a nephew,
my poor sisters only son. Poor SOUL how
she used to dote upon the boy. But she
died suddenly, and her pension with her;
SO l found myself the natural guardian of
bright, handsome young fellow, but as
impetuous and self-willed as loving moth
er could make him. I had no desire to
avoid the responsibility, for am the last
man in the world to shirk duty, and be-
sides, felt great affection for him; never
theless, we managed to quarrel, although
it was certainly not my fault.
We got on together remarkably well for
some time, until decided I must get him
something to do, and naturally with my
experience I was the httest judge of what
was best for him. A remarkably good
opening was offered me for Charlie-that' S
the boys name-in the office Of an eminent
firm of solicitors. [ made the arrange
ments without consulting my nephew,
thinking it would be pleasant surprise to
him; but such is the perversity of youth
that he actually scofed at the idea, declar-
ing that he would rather enlist for soldier
than perch himself on an Office stool.
e411 I,
praising the young mans zeal and aptitude
to the partners in prophetic terms. Now.
Charlie had been dabbling in art in an
could see he had talent-for am a man
of artlstic discernment-he had never
learned to draw correctly.
eThen what the deuce do you Intend to
do for living?" said angrily.
81 mean to take to art" said he, blush
ing little.
''Art 4ndeedp' cried I, sarcastically;
'fyou don't call those confounded daubs of
yours artp'
"Hardly yeti said he, getting redder,
"but hope to-
"Do you expect people will bs fools
enough to buy any pictures you're likely to
paint?'
'1'll wait and see," said he; sat any
rate, I'd rather be bad artist than bad
attorney. At least 1 can't cheat anybody"
'Not unless you find some one green
enough to buy one of your pictures, an
swered, ''and that's not likely"
The dispute at this point becomes little
indistinct. was exceedingly angry and
suffering from slight attack of gout. l
fancy, however, told Charlie he might go
to the deuce for aught I cared, and he SEEM
ed to take me at my word. for he left the
house and have not seen him since.
l have learned, however, that he has
been earning precarious livelihood by
giving drawing lessons, and am told he de-
clares he would rather go to the work
house than be burden to his relatives.
Strange he should speak of me in the plu-
raj? How disrespectful it sounds!
1t is two years ago that he left me. Of
ten I see my sisters eyes looking at me re-
proachfully, and how willingly would kill
the fatted calf for 5his foolish prodigal if
he would give me chance.
Why cannot the boy put his pride in his
pocket and ask me to forgive him.