Fort Worth daily gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1886-01-10

knowledge of cricket and football whilst
In the "runs" made my mark at once.
After all, although | said no as / com
menced IL, my tale is not my own history
| II ia the history Of others-but Of others
whose lives are so bound up In mnc that
my life seemed part OF theirs. So need
say little OF my school life, except that |
1 was popular with my schoolmatcs, favor
ably looked on by my tutors, equal, II not
before all OF my own age, both indoors
and outdoors. All who have been to a
public school will know that this means a
happy career.
With the exception of a few days In
! London and a couple OF short visits at
school friends, spent the whole OF the
holidays during the time | was at IIar-
row, in Devonshhc How could | do
otherwise, knowing that my father wished
me to be with him2 He was undemonstra-
tive as ever, still deep in his scientific and
literary pursuits, still holding commune
cation with the world only at intervals,
and then chiefly through scientific socie-
ties and their publications, but knew he
looked forward 10 the day OF my arrival
with longing, aud to the day of my de-
parturc with sorrow, and as ! grew older
felt that the time must come at last,
when we should be separated for much
longer periods than now, so gave him
all the time | could without grudging II.
Besides, was more cheerful now
Il in the old house. The sons of
the neighboring gentry although
few and far between--wcre within riding
distance, and, ia their eyes, the fact Of
my being now a public schoolboy like
themselves was sufficient TO atone for all
'fmy early shortcomings. had horse
now, and a ride Of ten or twelve miles
was nothing TO me, when II gave inc a
days shooting or some other sport, In
company with those OF my own age. But
J for the greater part | spent the days at
home, much In the old way. My father
and read together, walked together, snd
lived much as wc had always lived.
boated, bathed, ished and dream. Il away
the hours as of yore. | think latteriy
took to studying my fathers character,
| for, as grew older, and was able to con-
! trast him with other men, could notiall
, to observe and wonder at his peculari-
tlcs--his melancholy, his utter lack OF
5 interest in the doings OF the world, bis
: stern and almost repellcnt manner at
times, his gr at accomplishments SO
3 wasted and hidden. All these things
: now began TO realize and wonder att even
beginning to grow anxious to know the
5 true history of his life. Conld H. have
been the death OF his young wife, my
i mother, thai had made him shun man,
q, kiud2 Scarcely so, for he never men
Q toned her name--or carried memento OF
y relic of her. Had the world treated hiI
h unkindiyp Had he failed Ia hia ambition
J, | could not bring myself 10 think so, feel
q ing that he was man born to succeed, I
q he chose To enter into the strife OF Ia,
/, world. Yet, although comparatively
+ speaking now Young man. he had beei
E buried for years In this lonely spot. and
o II seemed was resolved to end his day,
alone and iriendless. Each time / re
l. turned 70 him, months older than when
j. last saw him, the strangencss Of his IN
a struck me with renewed force.
Il IL was after my first ylsit 10 n friends
d whose fathers house had been filed wit
70 uncles, aunts and cousins, thai the pecu
a lmrlty of my being without relatives cam
" homo TO me. It WAS winter; my fathe
o. and | were reading, or rather ne wa
x cutting and CHANGING at a large batch q
s. new books had brought down with me
~ some he threw down almost contempt
y ously, others he placed aside TO I've rea
I, in due time. When he Ind gone throue
" the pile OF volumes, aud appeared he.
u, itating which of the approved works I
ID attack first IN u serious manner, lal
10 dewn my book and turned to him.
ID "There was such a housefu at Ii
n. Bennets'. never know fellow with !
u many relatives
~ "Indeed,u said my father, witho,
AZ eyncing much interests "but you enioyc
e, Yourself, you sayY'
lie "Famouslyi hut wanted TO ask so,
u father Have we no rciatlonsg"
Il, ssNone You need trouble Yourself abou
10 Philip
lis "Had you no brothers or sistorsYn
he "No; Ike yourself, am an 0nly so
e, aud any cousins had have long been 10
On sight off,
as nBut, my motherp / said timldl
III Glad she no rclatlous?" lie looked AT n
nd soarchingly, and seemed almost di
NJ pleased felt uncomfortable under h
10 gaze.
L. "You need not trouble about yonr mot
no er's connections, Philip he said, cold
nd oThey are not mine. / am afraid \,
dc must content yourself with what frien,
YOU NAV hereafter make. Alter All. y,
GO win lind them less troublesome than r
Ir. lations.n
10 was bound to conclude from his wor,
N, that my mothers station IN life had hc,
II, am rent to his own; bur | longcd
IN, know something about her.
OF "lt seems so strange TO have no ono
Ole the world except you said 'Tell +
80 about my mother; tell me all about her
nc s'What shall | tell you about herYi
en- said, in constrained voice
oh Gan about her; all yuu can. Was &
NM ta4pN