Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1891-01-08


while the constant fear that they would be
turned out kept them in anxiety.
All the time | was listening to the clear
ringing words, ''If l were you would not
let my inheritance 90 TO west!''
but what could Go? / went home dis
couraged. though not without a purpose.
| l had been aroused at last | had some
| thing TO do in life. The dream of my child
hood | would Try to realize. From that
day to this, I have tried to work for the
| good of the poor, despised, down-trodden
people that we call tenants.
| CHAPTER Iv.-THE HEARTLESS LANDLORD.
Going home one evening after a veari-
some day, l found the house in unusual
| cOmmOtion. The servants were running
here and there, and things We're in ,;is0r-
| der generally On the stairs l met Hiss
| Everett. Her cheeks were red, anu her
! eyes had a new fire in them.
What is it?''
Lord Wayerland has come" she an
| swered in a hoarse whisper passing or.
''Then you have seen him." | said, as
she passed.
Her looks betrayed feelings of deep in
dignatiOn, as she said:
Yes, he is in the drawing-room.
Miss Stella Everett had seen my father,
and from her manner, knew thaS he had
said something to offend her. He could say
or do most anything. [ went to the draw
inG-roOm. There, seated in an easy chair
| before the fire Gt was damp, cold day in
September), surrounded by his dogs. sat
my father. His fine manly form seemed
as erect as ever, and his dark, curly hair
had few threads of grey. As opened the
door he turned his face toward me. It
showed evidences OF dissipation.
This seems like home, but the little
mink that rules here has plenty Of fire in
her small body" he remarked, without
changing his position TO greet me in any
way.
''She has courage to defend herself, at
least" Ireplied, not very politely
''Ah! All! 50 it is my lady's governess,
instead Of Annie Wren? | Thought she
was the chosen one," said he in derision
The dinner bell sounded. Lord Waiver
land left the drawing-rOOm to meet the
friends he had brought with him. When
they were seated at dinner Lord Waiver
land said.
''It seems the fairy genie of the place has
been in the kitchen, too, for here we have
a well cooked meal decently served"
There was now q merry party at Waiver
land. The ladies remained in their rooms
when Lord Waverland and his guests were
at home; for they were wild, reckless
class and became very noisy under the in
fluence of their evening rotations How
my heart rebelled against this! There
could be no pleasant hours in the drawing
room now cnlivened with music as had
been our habit. Miss Everett syas quite o
musician and Annie and | would Join her
in singing, while my mother and sir Wren
enjoyed quiet game of whist. But now
this rude, bOisterOus crowd Of counts and
braggarts that composed Lord Waiver
lands party had taken possession OF the
house. The sheriff, with his band Of armed
soldiers, was in constant demand eviCting
tenants Who would not Or couid n0t cay
the rent. That band Of rough, roJs- ring
fellows made themselves very familiar
about the place.
Many of the tenants could not pay, and
some Of them were afraid of mourning the
displeasure of the Land-League and dare
not pay the rack-rent demanded by Lord
Waverland. He would not lower his rents
so when the warrant was read it was a
severe struggle of eviction. Men were sent
out without work, or any means of saving
their families from starvation.
During the month that Lord Waverland
was at home, as L afterward learned, more
than two hundred families were made
homeless. Some tenants were more afraid
OF eviction than of the Land League and
paid no rent. One tenant, Patrick O'Neil,
who had a large holding On my fathers
estate, paid his rent. A few days after |
saw him and he had g. handkerchief tied
about his head.
''What is the matter, Pat?' I asked.
''Och, and it's bad cold I have"
'That will never do, Pat. Let me see
your earsr'
After some demurring persuaded him
to take off the kerchief, when, as 1 had
been told, he had lost both his ears.
"How did it happen, Pat?" asked, sor-
ry for the poor man.
"Yez see, the rule u.s. if one pays the rint
that is too high, some one is shore to fond
it out; and then yes have to pay the pin
atty. But what is a mon to do? He will
be turned out if he does not pay and he
will lose his ears if he does. [ thought
had rather keep my home and lose my
ears"
its a bad ctate of affairs when man
must choose between the tWo," [ said, |
feeling very much grieyed for the poor
tenant
But" said Pat, "the worst was when
our baby, that was sick at the time, DIED.
Not one Of our friends, not even my father
and mother burst come to see us. But for |
the swate lady at the house, no one would |
have come to wash and dress our dear
dead baby"
''NWho did you say came?'' asked, for I
cOnld not think Of any one at Waverland |
that would care for the poor tenants sor-
row.
"Why, the young lady in black"
miss Everett?" l asked in astonish- |
ment.
Yes, she always knows when any of us
arc in trouble, and comes to help US if she |
can"
did no one come to help bury your
child?"
mo one but the priest, They dursent."
''These things are hard to bear" l said, |
TO myself.
"Yez may well say SO, sorr. I could |
stand my own part of it. But one is not |
alone" said Pat tears rolling down his |
rough face. ''There's me wife and child |
ers that are dearer to me than my own |
life. I cannot SORT, bear the thought Of |
seeing thin starving and freezing by the |
roadside. have given up my ears to save |
thin. Do you blame me, sorr?"
mo, Pat said taking his hand in |
mine. ''You are a noble man to sacrifice |
so much for your family. May you receive
just reward"
Not long after my visit with Pat, Lord
Waverland gave a grand reception. The
suite of rooms opening into each other
were brilliantly lighted. My mother, as