The Dickinson press., 1890-03-22

teresting character, who, when he was
sober, could quote the Scottish poet
Burns and the "Ingoldsby Legends" lit.
orally by the page. 1t was from him
that contracted fondness for the lat.
ter amusing writings which has never
left me.
Burns I never cared for so much,
probably because of the Scottish dialect,
which repelled me. What little educa-
ton l got was from my father, but
never had much leaning toward books,
nor he much time to teach them to me.
On the other hand, I was always a keen
observer of the ways of men and ma
ture. By the time that was 20 could
speak Dutch and three or four Kaf1ir
dialects perfectly, and I doubt if there
swas anybody in South Africa who un.
derstood native ways of thought and
action more completely than did. Also
was really a good shot and horseman,
and think-as, indeed, my subsequent
career proves to have been the case-a
great deal tougher than the majority of
men.
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 gen.
tlest and most refined men that ever
met; even the most savage Kaffir loved
him, and his influence was very good
one for me. He used to call himself one
of the worlds 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 even
ing psalms to himself. Sometimes there
was not light enough for this, but it made
no difference, he knew them all by heart.
When he had finished he would look out
across the cultivated 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 stoop that he died.
He had not been we'll, 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
slc had never been out of his mind fol
single day during all these years, and
that he rejoiced to think he was draw
ing 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 hin
that his wife had run away, and thai
he was going to change his namc ane
bury himself in some remote land.
said that I remembered it perfectly
II wonder where he went to-" sale
my father, "and if he and his daughter
Stella arc still alive. Well, we'll! shall
never meet them again. But life is {
strange thing, Allan, and you may. Il
you ever do, give them my kind love.
After that 1 left him. We had beer
suffering more than usual from the dep
relations of the Kaffir thieves, who stole
our sheep at night, and, as 1 had don,
before, and not without success, I hat
determined to watch the kraal and see i
could catch them. Indeed, 1t was from
this habit of mine Of watching at nigh
that first got my native namo Of Ma
cumazahn, which may be roughly trans
lated as che who sleeps with one ey'
open." So I took my rifle and rose tx
20. But he called me to him and kissed
me on the forehead, saying, "God bles
you, Allan. Ihope that you will thinl
of your old father sometimes, and tha
you will lead good and happy life."
remember that did not much lik
his tone at the time, but set it down t
an attack of low spirits, to which h
grew very subject as the years went on
went down to the kraal and watched
till within an hour Of sunrise, then, a
no thieves appeared, returned to the sta
ton. As came near I was astonishet
osee figure sitting in my fathers chair
At first I thought it must be drunken
Kaffir, then that my father had falle1
asleep there. And SO he had, indeed, fol
he was dead!