Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1890-03-21

care to cucumber her new career with
child: Stella is left to me-"
THAT is what comes of marrying
papist, Carson said my father. That
was his fault: he was as good and charita-
BILE a man as ever lived, but he was bigot-
ed. what are you going TO do-follow
hert"
He laughed bitterly in answer.
Follow herr he sail why should I
follow her? If | met her l might kill her.
or him, or both of them, because of the
shame they have brought upon my child's
name. No, l never want to look upon her
face again. l trusted her, | tell you. and
she has betrayed me- Let her 20 and find
her fate But l am going, too. l am
weary of nv life"
surely, Carson, surely" said my faith
er, you do not mean"
mo, no: not that Death comes soon
enough. But l will leave this civilized
world that is a living lie. We will go
right away into the wiIds. my child and /,
and hide our shame. Where? l don't
know where. Anywhere, so long as there
are no white faces, no smooth, educated
tongues"
You are mad, Carson" my father an
swered How will you live? How will
you educate Stella? Be man and live it
down"
81 will be G man, and | will live it down,
but not here. Quatermain. Education!
Was not she-that woman who was my
wife-was not she highly educated?-the
cleverest woman in the country forsooth.
Too clever for me, Quatermain-too clever
by half No, no: Stella shall be brought
up in a different school; if it be possible,
she shall forget her very name. Good-by,
old friend good-by for ever. Do not try
to find me out; henceforth l shall be like
one dead to you, to you and all l knew"
and he was gone.
Mad" said my father, with a heavy
sigh. His trouble has turned his brain.
But he will think better of it."
At that moment the nurse came hurry
ing in and whispered something in his
ear. Ny fathers face turned deadly pale.
He clutched at the table to support him.
self. then staggered from the room. My
mother was dyingl
1t was some days afterwards, l do not
know exactly how long that my father
took me 10y the hand and led me upstairs
into the big room that had been my moth
er's bedroom. There she lay, dead in her
the wall of the room were arranged three
little white beds, and on each OF the beds
lay one of my brothers. They all looked
as though they were asleep, and they all
had flowers in their hands. Ny father
told me to kiss them all, because | should
not see them any more, and l did so,
though l was very frightened. did not
know why Then he took me in his arms
and kissed me.
THE Lord hath given" he said, "and
the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the
name of the Lord
cried very much, and he took me down
stairs, and after that | have only con-
fused memory of men dressed in black
carrying heavy burdens towards the gray
churchyard.
Next comes n vision of great ship and
wide, tossing waters. My father could no
longer bear To live in England after the
loss that had fallen on him, and made up
mis- mind to emigrate to South Africa. We
must have been poor at the time-indeed,
| believe that large portion of our in
come went from my IaJner on my mother 5
death At any rate we travelled with the
Storage passengers, and the intense dis
comfort Of the journey, with the rough
mains upon my mind. At last it came to
an end, and we reached Africa, which
was not to leave again for many, many
years. In those days civilization had not
made any great progress in Southern AT
RIGA. My father went up the country and
became missionary among the Kaf1irs,
near to where the town Of CradOC& now
stands, and here | grew to manhood
fnIy I2DAT' E. IN q
neighborhood, and gradually little set
tlemenC of whites gathered around our
mission stdtion-a drunken Scotch black
smith and wheeIwright was about the
most interesting character, who, when he
was sober. could quote the Scottish poet
Burns and the "Ingoldsby Legends liter
ally by the page. 1t was from him that
contracted a fondness for the latter anus
ing writings which has never left me.
Burns never cared for so much, probably
because of the Scottish dialect which re
PEELED me.
What little education I got was from
my father, but Iuevcr had much leaning
towards books nor he much time to teach
them To me. On the other hand. | was al
WAYS n keen observer of the ways of men
and nature. BY the time that ! was TWEEN
ty ! could speak Dutch and three or four
katftr dialects perfectlv, and | doubt if
there was anybody in South Africa who
understood native ways of thought and
action more completely than ! did. Also
I was really a very good shot and horse
man, and think-as, indeed, my Subse-
quent career proves to have been the case
"A great deal tougher than the majority
of men. Though | was then, as now. a
light, small man, nothing seemed to tire
me. | could bear any amount of exposure
and privatiou, and | never met the native
who was my master in feats of endurance.
OF course, all that is different now; l am
speaking of my early manhood.
1t may be wondered that did not run
absolutely wild in such surroundings, but
I was held back from this by my fathers
society. He was one of the gentlest and
most refined men that | ever met; even
the most savage Katfir loved him, and his
influence was very good one for me.
He used to call himself one of the world s
failures. Would that there were more
such failures. Every evening when his
WORK was done he would take his prayer
book and, sitting on the little stoop of our
station, would read the evening psalms to
himself Sometimes there was not light
Nhtt-il IVA tAISs Jul IL iiltuc no ullltItSiCt,
he knew them all by heart. When he had
finished he would look out across the cul-
tivated lands where the mission Kaffirs
had their huts
But knew it was not these he saw, but
rather the gray English church, and the
graves ranged side by side before the yew
near the wicket gate.
1t was there on the StOep that he died.
He had not been well, and one evening |
was talking to him, and his mind went
back to OXfordshire and my mother. He
spoke of her good deal. saying that she
had never been out of his mind for a sin
gle day, during all these years and that
he rejojced to think he was drawing near
that land whittier she had gone Then he
asked me if remembered that night when
Squire Carson came into the study at the
vicarage, and told him that his wife had
run away, and that he was going to change
his name and bury himself in some remote
land.
l said that l remembered it perfectly.
~ wonder where he went to-" said my
father, land if he and his daughter Stella
are still alive. Well, well! l shall never
meet them again. But life is a strange
thing, Allan, and you may. II you ever
do, give them my kind love"
After that | left him We had been
suffering more than usual from the depre-
dations OF the Kaflir thieves, who stole
49, .G,,, Of 7 b,l Inr. ha