The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1886-04-23


as to want tc be an angel right off,
either, he added, with twinkle in his
eyes; land / never was much of hand
at music, SO ain sure how I'll man
age harp, though / used to play the
flute when | was young. Hattie there,
now she's in training. She sings in the
choir a'ready; and Henry, he's practic-
ing on the mouth-organ. In days O.
youth prepare for death. Pity / give
up the flute.
Mr.. Gray seemed at loss for words.
The young girl drew nearer to him and
said:
II had not seen my father for a year
before he died, and he died away from
home. Tell me something about him. "
A flush of shame famed up in the
gentleman's face as he looked into her
beseeching eyes.
81 don't know what to tell you,n he
said, gently.
Henry was always unlucky,n Mr..
Brown remarked. '.First he invented
a patent tack hammer, and then he was
book agent for a speH-You book
agentP'' he asked, suddenly turning to
his guest
81 am lawyer"
"Oh, a lawyer" Mr.. Brown stroke ed
his beard. ''Well, Henry want a
lawyer, but he was pretty much every
thing else. 'Twa'n't no use, though.
He was the youngest and smartest of
us all-there was six of us boys-and
he just went ahead, losing money
the cheerfulest of anybody | ever see.
Soon as he got any he got rid of it
right of. He was a lovable fellow, had
friend on every corner, but too confid-
ing. When he hadn't any thing else
to do, he'd indorse; it gave him pleas.
ure to go on paper. Then at one time
he reilly was quite rich'-here the old
manrose in sudden wrath" and newer
and lent four thousand dollars to the
meanest scamp ON the face O. the earth,
and he didn't bother about security,
either. No, it was all betwixt friends,
though | say to him that Tom Hallow
was the"
"Who?" asked the stranger, sharply.
Thomas Hallowp Know him? I know
him well"
The old man sank back in his chair.
''Then you know darned scoundrel,"
he muttered. His wife looked at him,
reproachfully, which reused his ire.
eyes, sir, darned scoundrel," he
shouted. "He rich, rolling in wealth,
and Hattie amt got penny, and it
was her father who gave him a start,
and if he had any gizzard he'd pay her
the four thousand dollars her father
loaned him--loaned him! Give him!
He knows we're all poor, but what
does he care if some folks up here in
Pillowville have to scrimp and save
long as he has got all he wants! He is
a scoundrel, and you can tell him l
said sou
He looked at his guest whose eyes
were shining bright.
81 will tell him." he said, hotly,
"and l will tell him l agree with you.
Good for your cried Mr.. Brown,
all his wrath vanishing at once.
"Now, pa, you simmer down." said
his wife.
She and her niece joined in the con-
versation, which wandered off in a
pleasanter channel. 1t was not much
that the girl said, but her words were
spoken with a frank smile and be-
trayed her mother wit. When the
guest took his leave she followed him
to the door.
"You must not mind what my uncle
said," she whispered. "He is very
bitter against Mr.. Hallow'
81 don't wonder at it, he returned,
and he whispered, too. cit is a debt
of honor. would pay it if died do
ing it,
She looked up in his face with visit
full admiration.
"If he were only like you,n she ex-
claimed.
''Do you want the money so muchpo
ne asked as one asks an engaging child
if she Graves particularly fascinating
doll, She shot another quiet, upward
glance at him.
"Ah," she answered; ''you would
not ask that if you had ever been
poor -
-
In room furnished in haphazard,
elegant fashion, with windows looking
out on Fifth avenue. portly man of
middle age was brushing his luxuriant
whiskers, when someone tapped on
the door of the adjoining parlor.
"Come in" cried out the portly
man, and dropping his oval brusher he
turned to greet his caller. "Well,
White, what brings you here SO earlyP"
And the caller, who had been Gray
in Pillowville and was White in New
York, answered straightway:
The money you oweto dead man,
Tom Hallow."
Mr. Hallow's heavy jaw fell. '.It's
come at last he exclaimed. ~ al
ways knew you would end in lunatic
asylum"
Henry Brown is dead" Mr.. Gray
White continued, taking no notice OF
this, "lnd his daughter is pennilsss.
If you want me to think that you are
a gentleman you will send her check
tomorrow for the $4,000-aye! and
the interest on itthat her father lent
you when you were poor
''Whew and are you her counselor?
Is she fair to look upon, this dead mans
daughterP"
LII is VI no consequence WnoInef
she is fair or plain; it is of consequence
whether you are an honest man or
not.
Mr.. Hallow turned back to his mir
ror and brushed out his luxuriant
whiskers again, saying:
Good morning to you, Mr.. White.
The gentleman with the fading name
CHI ru U0nd his cho,,llarc
"This will be pretty dish to set be-
fore the queen" he said.
He was about to leave, but he was
called back.
''Ah, hold on, Don Quixote, whatth
deuce does all this mean? You pounce
on me and abuse me before the sleep is
out of my eyes. had forgotten all.
about Brown; never knew he had
daughter. If he had lived I would
have paid him the money soon as Twas
fairly on my feet, and he would have
muddled it away in. tom-fool specula-
ton, too. Don't go off in huff. Come
breakfast with me and we will look
into fhic m ottor ,xyar q bnttIa rf x,,h;+,