The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1885-12-18

uOust, Was lDuu vi his DtduJllul wire
and engaged in a large correspondence
with his wife's family and his own.
Then he had small smatterings OF
science-nothing more. The Hall was
expecting an heir. This was the source
of great joy to husband and wife after
ten years of hope deferred. A boy
came, lived ten days only, but survived
his mother by half that time.
This was the great shadow which
fell on Stainforth Hall, and from under
it the owner never emerged. The park
gates were then shut against all the
world then the servants were sent
about their business-all except Rob
Granger, who was ten years younger
than his master the demesne was let
for grazing then the correspondence
ceased, and Joseph Stainforth sought
to drown his memory in science.
My chief-I may say my only-ob-
ject in looking through those letters
of forty years ago was to try and find
in them any clue to where the deceased
might have placed HIS subsequent saw
ings. If could find there a hint of
any investment he was likely to favor,
or of places in which he was likely to
deposit his large accumulations,I should
be very lucky.
Young Stainfortn was at the Hall.
He was tall. light-haired,quiet young
man, who didn't seem to take any in
terest whatever in my searches. / had
been few days in the house, and had
not met the least encouragement when,
to my surprise, | found out that in the
hands of the present owner the Hall
was not likely to fare much better than
in those of its former proprietor.
Joseph Stainforth had been a student
of science Edgar Stainforth was a
student Of poetry. This discovery was
not, from business point of view, en-
couraging. thought to myself it was
a thousand pities such a fine old place
should fall into the hands of two such
men in succession.
have no taste for science, except
my own. l have now and then been
obliged to "make up" a scientific case
But poetry is altogether beyond my
sphere. l think l may say have little
or no ear for poetry. / would never
think of taking up q volume of verse
to amuse myself. To me, verse is un-
Ineligible, when it does not seem non
sense or the work of man pretending
he is a child. know this is not a
sound position, but cannot help that.
| had only one hope for young Stain
forth when / found ont his leaning to-
ward verse-namely, that he would
marry soon for if he only had a wife
he might go on as he pleased with
poetry-she would take care of the
reasonable interests of their lives and
position. Poetry is, know, mostly
written to or about women, and they
admire it very much but the reason
why they like it is because it tends to
marriage, either in the male who writes
it or the male who reads it. Women
regard poetry as an eloquent prospect
us, which may lead to the formation of
a prosperous company. That's my
view, anyway.
Young Stainforth and | met at in
tervals. After the first strangeness
had worn away, we talked as freely as
you could expect two men in our relative
positions to talk. That was not much
He had, up to his sudden accession to
his late uncles fortune, led retired
life and now it did not seem as though
he was going to change his ways. All
this, of course, had nothing to do with
me but, you see, l was all by myself
and lonely and had plenty of time for
thinking-for, as l said before, rum
maging these old chests was child's
play that any junior clerk could do.
Bradford e Son, you may be sure, had
pretty well rummaged the house
from top to bottom before they sent
for me.
Well, this particular morning l was
sorting out my dreary, monotonous
letters, beginning about nothing and
ending about nothing, and of no earth
ly good for me q had been told that
if discovered the money or securities
| should not go away with thanks only)
when in walked Mr.. Edgar Stainforth.
AS usual, he had an open book in his
hand but politely closed it as he came
near where | was. He said something
to me, and l said something to him.
He spoke more freely than formerly,
and |, of course, was rs agreeable as ]
could be, for | pitied the poor boy with
his poetic maggot in his head. After
little talk, like the letters, about moth
ing in particularly said
1--WE just been up to that strange
room of my cousins-that room, you
know, which has puzzled every one,
and | am more amazed than ever to
think what use my cousin could have
made of it, or rather intended it for,
because / think it is plain he did not
use it for anything"
"Ive been over the room," | said
stopping in my work and looking up,
"but ! could make nothing of it either
Did you find out anything 7"
This was the first turn of practical
nature | had seen in him. The notion
of his prowling inquisitively about the
house was distinctly in his favor. Up
to this he had not prowled-he had
mooned.
"Did you ever" said he, shear that
my cousin was fond of poetry ?"
"Poetry y cried |, taken aback, and
losing all faith in my employer once
more. mo, l thought he went in fol
science, not poetry
81 won't go so far as to say that
think he was profoundly versed in the
poetry cf modern, not to speak of an
cient days but | think he must have
known something about it, for there
are two references to poems on the
leaden strip let into the door"
This thought l to myself, 81,
worse than the musty old letters"
said aloud, Indeed I did not motto,
that the words and figures scratched OF
the lead had anything to do with poe
try
"You remember what they were ?"
81 don't exactly remember" | an
swered, drawing ont my book, "but
made note OF them Here it is: .