Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1890-01-04

ecutor. Among
them found two manuscripts, of which
the following Ia one. The other Is simply
record Of events In which Mr.. Quater-
main was not personally concerned-a
Zulu novel, the story of which was told
ltohim by the hero many years after the
tragedy had occurred. But with this
we have nothing to do at present.
have often thought (Mr. Quater-
mains manuscript begins) that I would
set down ON paper the events connected
with my marriage, and the loss of my
most dear wife. Many years have now
passed since that event, and to some ex-
tent time has softened the old grief,
though heaven knows it is still keen
enough. On two or three occasions ]
have even begun the record. Once ]
gave it up because the writing Of it de
pressed me beyond bearing, once because
I suddenly was called away upon a
4 Journey, and the third time because a
'lKafir boy found my manuscript con-
venient for lighting the kitchen fire.
2 But now that am at leisure here In
England, viii make a fourth attempt.
II succeed, the story may serve to in
!terest some one in after years when I
am dead and gone. Il is wild tale
enough, and suggests some curious re-
Elections. .78 Fa6
am the son of a missionary. My
father was originally curate in charge of
small parish in Oxfordshire. He had
already been some years married to my
dear mother when he went there, and
he had four children, of whom I was
the youngest. I remember family the
place where we lived. It was an ancient,
long, gray house, facing the road. There
was very large tree of some sort in the
garden. 1t was hollow, and we children
used to play about inside Of it, and
knock knots of wood from the rough
bark. We all slept in kind of attic,
and my mother always came up and
kissed us when we were in bed. ] used
to wake up and see her bending over me,
a candle in her hand. There was a
curious kind of pole projecting from the
wall over my bed. Once was dread.
fully frightened because my eldest
brother made me hang to it by my
hands That is all I remember about
our old home. It has been pulled down
long ago, or I would journey there to
see it.
A little further down the road was a
large house with big iron gates to it, and
on the top of the gate pillars sat two
stone lions, which were so hideous that
was afraid of them. One could see the
house by peeping through the bars of the
gates. 1t was gloomy looking place,
with a tall yew hedge round it; but in
the summer time some flowers grew
round the sun dial in the grass plat.
This house was called the Hall, and
Squire Carson lived there. One Christ
mas--it must have been the Christmas
before my father emigrated, or should
NOT remember tive children went to a
Christmas tree at the Hall. There was
great party there, and footmen wearing
red waistcoats stood at the door. In the
dining room, which was paneled with
black oak, was the Christmas tree.
Squire Carson stood in front of it, He
was q tall, dark man, very quiet in his
manners, and he wore bunch Of seals
ON his waistcoat. We used to think him
FOLD, but as matter of fact he was then
! not more than forty. He had been, as /
afterwards learned, a great traveller in
his youth, but some six or seven years
before this date had married lady who
was half Spaniard-a papist, my father
4 called her.
I can remember her well. She was
small and very pretty, with rounded
4 h1anlp avnA n1{f%artncv
teeth. She spoke English with curious
accent. suppose that I must have been
a funny child to look at. and know
That my hair stood up on my head then
lsit does now, for still have sketch
. If myself that my mother made of me,
which this popularity Is strongly
marked. On this occasion of the Christ
mas tree I remember that Mrs. Carson
urned to a tall, foreign looking gentle
nan who stood beside her, and tapping
him affectionately on the shoulder with
Ter gold eyeglasses said:
"Look, cousin-look at that droll little
4 10Y with the big brown eyes; his hair is
ike a-what you call him?-scrubbing
rush. Oh, what droll little boyl"
The tall gentleman pulled at his mus
ache, and, taking Mrs. Carson's hand in
lis, began to smooth my hair down with
ttill heard her whisper:
'Leave go my hand, cousin. Thomas
8 ) looking like-like the thunderstorm"
Thomas was the name of Mr.. Carson,
4 Ter husband.
After that hid myself as well as I
ould behind chair, for was shy, and
watched little Stella Carson, who was
he squire's only child, giving the chill
Irer presents off the tree. She was