The Columbus journal., 1888-06-13

with him, instead Of TINS question OF ne ana
death which must be settled today.
There YVES the door to her little room aiar.
He always had contrived to pay the trifie of
rent for the room after she left him, liking to
think of it as hers. He remembered the day
he brought her there first He had had q
tough siege nursing old Durbrow, her father
ION The Camera like himself. When ho
was dead, the major settled up the estate:
there were 300 Of debts, and for assets, one
trunk, empty; one suit of clothes, patched;
| one watch, gold; pretty lot of meerschaums;
and the little girl of 5, just over tie measles
The watch went to pay the debts, and the
little girl, Of course, must 60 to an asylum.
But the major brought her home for a week,
to cheer her up a bit. He took her to the
theatre and circuses every afternoon; he
bought her gay little plaid silk suit (it was
flush time with him just them; he stuffed
her with oysters and caramels; and in tho
night, when she cried for her father, took her
on his knee in her white nightgown, made
her say over her prayers again, and then
| rocked and crOaked over her some old ditty
about shepherds, have you seen my love2'
| til, she fell asleep. The other men, who missed
| him at billiards or over their stews and ale
| used to unearth old Standish at this sort of
| work, and joked him about it roughly enough
| But they were pleased when he kept her week
after week, and used to be coming in per-
| petually with scraps Of anxious advice about
Group or nettle rash, and fell into the habit
of buying oil sorts of expensive and useless
things for 'poor Durbrow's baby"
So it went on for years. There was always
49, NJ.
the air the child breathed, and no doubt
when she came to be young lady she learned
to think in a scrappy, itemizing, newspaper
way: but Madeline's life was in fact as
cleanly, and sweet, and tender among these
men, as if she had been one Of any rosebud
garden of girls, perhaps more SO. Whatever
garment of lies the major chose to put on as
armor, or to perk and vaunt himself in out
among other men. he never wore it into ''the
cockloft." Nobody could account fsr the
almost pathetic tenderness of his love to the
girl 1t was more than seemed duo for her
fathers sake, or even her own.
Once, however, he had said to her, "You
came to take the place Of child that lost"
That was the only time he had hinted at the
secret of his former life. He kept it hidden
even from himself.
~ ~ hAui , Ouu WoUiu HOl DG
thrust aside. In few hours it would be
known to all the world.
John Proctor was his son.
He remembered well now the last day when
lie had called the boy by that name. 1t was
a dreary, rainy season III Novemb r. three
or four years before he took Madeline. He
Sat by hotel window with Jack on his
knee. 1t was week since he had come from
Richmond loarin,r hn rhills thar
there. He had spent the week going from
one newspaper Office to another, vaunting
and vaporng, and drinking hard, but with a
still cold consciousness all the time of stand
ing by he: grave, on which the rain pat
tered, with her childs life left in his hands
to do with it what he would.
Mary's boy would have grown into truth
full, God fearing man. if she had lived; a
gentleman, too; the class which Standish,
with all his tawdry Dragging, watched far off
with jealous awe. Now What could he
make of the boy! He took the little chaps
hands in his, and pulled him closer, trying
with his blcarcd eyes to penetrate the future
Like father. like son; it was SO always For
himself, whether it was the taint of the
butcher shop or some flaw in his make up he
did not know, but he was labeled everywhere
Cor contempt. Even here, where he was q
stranger, he was marked already, he saw, as
d!srepu:able, vulgar, frothy bubble O: :
man. He was sore and CALLED by the sn,;bs
he had met with today. He sat quiet in the
gaudy hotel parlor, holding Jack close while
the servants lighted the lamps and people
came and Went he looked steadi iy at the cost |
of what he meant to do.
''Tll take the weight of your old father OF
Of you, Jack, he said at last, stopping to kiss
the fat red little face. "Good-by, my SON."
He did take il off. He entered the boy |
under the name of Proctor at a fashionable |
boarding school, setting aside the entire sum |
he had saved with which to start paper in |
Philadelphia. II CAN scratch for myself" he |
said
LET the lad have everything he wants." he |
urged his governess one day. His father |
had the best blood in Virginia in his veins, |
madam. And teach him religion. His |
mother but he broke down her She's |
yonder," he said quietly at last, glancing up |
The governess nodded, and understood him.
So the feint succeeded. OF what it cost
himself, he said nothing; it had lifted the boy
at once, he thought, into pure region of
fashion, and refinement, and salvation. The
glories of the PrOctOrS, in the course of years,
grew and multiplied readily i'll the majors
handling. There were times when he became
confused himself, SO real had Jacks illustri-
Gus family grown. Remember your father
the general, ladIr he would cry, when urging
the boy to manlineSs or courage. "NoblesSe
oblige!"
Damned if l know whether there was
Gen. Proctor or not!" he would mutter per-
picked to himself afterward.
Well, there was the end of it all now. The
lie had been played successfully for years,
yet now all Jacks world was to know it was
a lie. Sitting by the fire in his shirt sleeves,
tapping his ,;nees with his clumsy fingers.
the maj went over it this afternoon.
There's nobody who knew me in Virginia,
and knows my name is Richard and not Dan,
that can't tell about the boy" He saw no
way Of escape "If to call himself my friend
was ruin to the lad, what will become of him
as my sons" And to-day, Jacks fate stood
in the balance, as McMurray had said
Again end again the major reasoned round
the dreary circle.
Son one side the charge of great church,
wealth, and the woman he loves; on the
other-me." There was nothing beyond
that. Tonight must end it one way or the
other. The drumming of his fingers grew
slower on his knees till he sat like block
/
tearing at his flesh made his brain clearer
He was to be hung on his boy like a mill
stone to drag him down, till one or other of
them died? What if he were dead nowl
Great gain would follow: and as for loss
tCOnciui,d acrt reek.l
Bravery ana the Machine Gun.
British troops have done great things
in their day. and in the face of overpower-
ng numbers. too. as when Wellington.
with q, 600 men. some of them Spaniaris
and Portuguese and of no value.
turned upon his 10000 pursuers under
Ney. at Busaco. in the Peninsular war.
and beat them: and again when. in the
Crimea. Col Scarlet. with single brigade
If cavalry, the Heavy" brigade charged
10000 Russian horse These
arc but specimens Of what the British
soldier can do History abounds with
similar incidents. But ia those days. there
S reason to believe. Drawn and courage
we're of more value than now, when tho |
3i-ofu1 machine nuy, op6 70 couS;r ,bo |