Omaha daily bee., 1885-01-24
WHAT TURNED ON A HEEL-TURNER
BY FRANK r. sTOCToN
Copyrighted by the Author. AL rights Re
served.

Tive OF winch ID Jne tTue lON6 Il lelb AoE
my sweetheart Belle, 1 shall, for the
most part, omit the love. This mutual
affection had grown, warmed by the most
generous sun, and nourlshed by the most
vivifying showers under which true love
ever throve, into an engagement between
Belle and myself. But there it stopped;
and, as far as We could zee, there was no
probability that the seasons of love would
proceed in the ueusl order. The spring
of our affection had passed, and we were
enjoying the early glories of summer, but
now our earth had appeared to pause in
It's orbit and to refuse to incline its axis
in the conventional manner which should
induce the ripened ~frllness of the year.
1t was impossible for us to fix a date for
our marriage, and yet, upon first sight,
there would seem to be no reason why
we should not marry whenever we choose.
l was the physician of the village in which
we lived, and my practice, although
not large and not very
alive, would, l was quite sure, support
two as well as one; and everybody knows
that a young doctor ought to be married
IL he wishes to succeed. Belle was an
orphan, and there was no one who could
legally prevent her from becoming my
wife whenever she saw fit to do 80. But,
although circumstances seemed favorable
in both our cases, there was an obstacle
in the way, aud that obstacle was Bellies
brother Horace.
Horace was a good fellow, q kind
brother to Belle, a genial companion to
me, and talented in many ways-rather
too many, In fact. He and his sister had
a small income on which they managed
to live; but, although he was at least 80,
Horace had no regular business. he had
studied law for q time, had taught school
for a time, and for another time had had
something to do with civil engineering.
He had some very queer notions, and
one of these was that he would not con.
sent to live with us after we were mar
ried. A woman, he said, could not at
the same time do her whole duty to her
husband and a brother; and he made the
point, to which In my own mind 1 could
but agree, that he would be a bar to our
Belle positively refused to leave her
brother until hs was settled in business.
At present he was undecided, troubled,
and anxious, and, without her, there
waa no knowing what should become of
him. When Horace would be fairly
started In life, then might loves seasons
recommence their course; then might our
earth's axis gently tip; then might full
summer come, and marriage.
At the time my story opens we were all
in a state of worried excitement. Horace
had long been of the opinion that to own
and edit a newspaper would suit him bet
ter than anything else in the world.
What he wanted was a country newspa
per, with a barely supporting subscription
and advertising patronage, and which
might, therefore, be held at a price which
should come within his means. This
paper he so proposed to improve, both by
his general management and his pen, that
it would be taken all over the country,
and perhaps have an agency in London
and other foreign places. He would
make its contents of such general interest
that it would be read as eagerly in Texas
or Australia as i'll the county in which il
was printed. To those who knew Horace
well this seemed the most promising o.
his schemes for life work. He had a very
peculiar and lively wit, could make a gooC
anecdote better by telling it, never forgo
anything worth remembering, took
lively interest in current events, quickl,
perceiving their humorous sides, if they
happened to have any, and often givin,
them one if they had not. We all fel
that if Horace owned n paper he woul,
put his whole soul into it, and then h
would succeed. He could not expect t,
be able to start one; but to buy a %iourna
already established is often within tn
reach of persons of moderate means.
The cause of our present nervous anxi
ETY. was the fact that HofaGs had recent
ly heard that in an adj lining count!
there was a weekly newspaper for sal
which would suit him exactly. The edi
tor and proprietor, who was a clergyman
had long been DESTROYS of giving up jour
nalism aud taking cherge of a church, an,
had only been prevented by the difficult,
of disposing of his paper. An opportuni
ty to make the change in his life that h
wished had just occurred to him. 4
country church, not far from the tow
where he lived, had been for some year
under the charge of a young minister
whose health had became very muc'
broken. He had been counselled to seq,
a climate more suitable to his hea tn, bu
had been unable to do 80 for want Q
means. He not only needed money I
travel, but he had debts which he woul
not leave unpaid. His church owed hir
considerable ARE ,rages of salary, maxim
a sum quite sufi ,ient for his purpose,
but which it was al present unable I
pay. The cause of the accumulation
pastoral debt was rather peculiar.
widow lady had died, and left a legacy /
the church, which its officers hsd dete,
mined to appropriate to much needed r,
pairs OF the ediice. But there had bee
a delay In the payment of the legacy, tn
executors of the will having not yet mad
Ger an sales, upon which this paymer
depended. The young minister, who Wa
very ealo for the good of his parish
had therefore consented that the none
which would otherwise have been paid !
him should be used for the repairs, whil
he would wait for the payment of the leg
acy. This would have all been yery We
but for the failure of his health. White
was coming on, and he ought t, 90 aws
as soon as possible; he could not d
so without money, and his congregatio