Custer chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, Black Hills, D.T. [S.D.]) 1880-1890, 1889-09-07
Mr.. NELSON'S WILL.
BY II. RIDER


try and save her life that I wanted the
money. When / told her that / could no,
get it she gave up and died. Your uncle
| killed her. Come"
Greatly shocked, he followed her back
into the sitting room, and then-as soon IA
| he got his composure-apologized for hav-
! ing intruded himself upon her In such an
hour OF desolation.
II am glad to see you" she said simply;
II have seen nobody except the doctor
once and the undertaken twice. II Is
dreadful to sit alone horr after u face
TO face with the irretrieyable. II ] had
not been so foolish as TO enter into that
agreement with Messrs. Meeson / could
have got the money by selling my new
book easily enough, n / should have
been able to take JEANNE abroad, and l
believe that she would have lived-at least
] hope so. But now it is finished n can
not be helped"
II yish / had known" blundered Eus-
tace. II could have lent you the money.
/ nave a hundred and fifty pounds"
You are very good" she answered,
| gently, but it is no use talking about it
| now, 1t is finished"
Then Eustace rose and went away and
IL was not till he found himself in the
street hat he remembered that he had
never asked Augusta what her plans were.
Indeed, the sight of poor JEANNE had put
everything else out Of his head. How
! ever, he consoled himself with the refiec-
ton that he could call again a week or ten
days after the funeral.
Two days later Augusta followed the
! remains Of her dearly-loved sister to their
last resting place, and then came home on
foot, (for she was the only mourner,) n
| sat in her black gown before the little fire
| and reflected upon her position. What
was she TO dof She could not stay in these
rooms. II made her heart ache every time
that her eyes fell upon the empty sofa OPP
| posite, dinted as ii was with the accus-
toned weight Of poor Jeannie's frame.
! Where was she to go, and what was she
70 dos She might get literary employ
ment, but then her agreement with Messrs.
Meeson stared her in the face. That
agreement was very widely drawn. 1t
bound her 10 offer all literary work Of my
sort that might come from her pen during
the next five years to Messrs. Meeson at
the fixed rate of seven per cent, on the
published price. Obviously, as it seemed
A ~ hNAs ~ idPs NAAo
clause might be stretched TO include even
a newspaper article; and she knew the
malignant nature Of Mr.. Meeson well
enough TO be quite certain that, il posi-
BILE, that would be done. 1t was true she
might manage TO make a bare living out
OF her work, even at the beggarly pay Of
seven per cent; but Augusta was a person
of spirit, and she was determined hat she
-~.ll -.,a- 49, thaf Iaannn
should again make huge profits ont Of her
labor, This avenue being closed TO her,
she turned her mind elsewhere; but, look
where she might, the prospect was equally
dark.
Augusta's remarkable literary success
had not been of much practical advantage
70 her, for in this country literary success
does not mean so much as IL does in some
others. As a matter Of fact, indeed, the
average Briton has, at heart, a considera
BILE contempt, IL not for literature, at leasl
for those who produce it. Literature, in
his mind, is connected with the idea OF
garrets and extreme poverty; and. there
fore, having the national respect for money
he in secret, If not in public, despises 1t. A
tree Is known by its fruits, says he. Let
a man succeed at the Bar, and he makes
luOuNtnuo upOn bhOuohhde - year. dh& y,
promoted to the highest Offices in the
State. Let a man succeed In art and he
will be paid one or two thousand pounds
apiece for his most "pot-boiiery" por
traits. But your literary men-why, with
a few fortunate exceptions, the best OF
them barely make q living. What can lit
erature be worth IL q man can't make q
fortune out of ite So argues the Briton-
.-stI 1870 - liz oar.l 80.
sense. Not that he has no respect fol
genius. All men bow TO true genius, even
when they fear and envyit But he thinks
a good deal more OF genius dead than gen
Jus living. However this may be, there il
no doubt that if through any cause-such,
for instance, as the sudden discovery by
the great and highly civilized American
people that the seventh commandment
was probably intended to apply TO author:
amongst the rest Of the world-the pecun
larry rewards of literary labor should be
put more upon an equality with those OF
other trades, fterature-as a profession
will go up many steps in popular esteem
At present, il a member If a family has
betaken himself TO the high and honorable
calling (for, surely, it is both Of letters
frie nds and relations are apt TO talk about
him in a shy and diffident, not 10 say apol
ogetic, way; much as they would had be
adopted another sort of bookmaking as q
means of livelihood.
Thus it was that, Notwithstanding hel
success, Augusta had nowhere to tnrn II
her difficulty. She had absolutely 10 lit
erary connection. Nobody had called upOI
her or sought her out In consequence oil
her book. One or two authors Ia London
and a few unknown people from different
parts Of the country and abroad, had writ
ten to her-that was all Had she lives
in town it might ave been different; but
unfortunately for her, she did not.
The more she thought the less clear di,
her path become, until, at last. she got al
inspiration. Why not leave England al
togethert She had nothing to keep heI
here. She had q cousin-a clergyman-iE
New Zealand, whom she had never seen
and who had read "Jemima's Vow,r ana
written her q kind letter about ii. -ha
was the one delightful thing about writing
b~ooks-one made friends all over thu
world. Surely he would take her in for 9
while, and put her IN the way of earning Z
living where Meeson would not be able II
modest her. Why should she not 60, She
had twenty pounds left, and the furniturs
(which included al expensive invalid
chair aud books would fetch another
thirty or ~so-epough to pay for q second