Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1892-01-21
NOT FOR HIM.
Didn't Want to Be Another Little
Lord Fauntleroy.


a pedestrian tour through the White
mountains. i had '.hocked all alone by
myself" glad of solitary jaunt which
should take me away from the intense
strain of business affairs which after a
aong legal struggle had resulted in
making me millionaire. l had chosen
the solitary Chamber of the great hills
ON my own legs by advice of promi-
ment physician, who declared l needed
physical exercise and mental rest
enjoyed every moment The weather
had been cool and fine. Advanc-
hng from Concord. which / made my
point of departure, i had gradually
followed the railroad course from town
TO town, stopping at night wherever l
happened to find shelter which seemed
promising, and l have always looked
back to the hospitality extended to me
fin two or three of the farmhouses with
a pleasant wonder, for within them
dwelt such peace, purity, kindness and
consideration as one may often seek
dor in vain among the mansions of the
cities
The railway which now cuts the road
old days hoped-for improvement, but
had not become materialiZed in even so
much as the first rail; and that de-
1icious valley, in which all the sylphs.
imps and fairies must have disported
themselves in the moonlight every mid
summer festival, lay so quiet, so peace
full. SO exquisitely contrasted with the
superb heights which rose towering
above, had often SO charmed me that
my soul was lifted in thanksgiving to
God for such a manifestation of His
eternal freshness and beauty.
] had just finished the last line of a
song when l saw a boy, about thirteen
.or fourteen years old. sitting upon a
stone, crying as if his heart would
;breai. He was small for his age, I
could see at once. He was singularly
handsome. His curly brown head was
noble in form, he was fair in complex
ion, his features were almost classic
His feet were bare, red, swollen and
scratched, but the insteps were slen-
der. the nails delicate and the ankles
not those of a country-bred lad. In a
moment noticed that his clothing was
fine, and although simple, elegant in
cut and make, while his stockings and
shoes were equally good. He was
dusty and badly burned. his hands red
and sore with constant exposure to the
sun. His appearance astonished me,
and l said 10 him:
"A rather jolly morning to be weep
jung like that, seems to me-
He started and looked up through a
pair of deep brown eyes so strangely
melancholy that for a moment he
seemed like an old man. He ceased
crying, but sat still, not answering a
word. Something within him, some
thing within me, was at that moment
touched to instantaneous life felt
hat / loved the lad i have often won
,dered what it was that made me sud
denly sit down beside him. put my arm
around him and pat his head. l was
long past forty, was bachelor. i
hadn't very many friends, for had not
been rich until week before My life
had been a long, hard struggle, a
serious. earnest work toward grave
END. and into my existence had crept
but few flowers of affection and but
one root of love.
II guess" said !, Yankee fashion,
THAT you and are pretty lonesome
pair of fellows, somehow"
He looked me in the eyes = moment
and then impulsively hid his face in my
breast, while one arm stole around my
neck.
lam" said he; I've been lonesome
ever since l was born"
Well, so had /. Maybe that was the
link that joined us had had no home:
no father. no mother / was . self
made man, what there was of nae, m
til that fortune had come So said
the truth simply: so have l."
Have you?" he cried, eagerly.
~.Then you will understand. You will
know all about it, You will not blame
ms You will tell me what to do"
why should blame You. my boy9
WHAT have you done?"
II have run away-more than = hun
dred miles"
He looked ut me doubtfully, wistful-
". To see how would take it / took
1t coolly. Boys often do that" i an
,swered.
He looked a little erestfallen-nots so
much of a hero. But in moment. try
in, to justify himself, he asked:
s.Nnat makes emp"
Usually harsh, nnk nd father, too
much whipping: too much work. too
little play; or else, cheap story papers )"
Are they never lonesome enough to
d Don't that make 'em. ever?f
Il never heard SO. Did it you? Come,
won had better tell me all about It
you see I've been about SO myself"
He wiped his bonny face, sat down
ON an old log and said: MY trouble is
our family. You see we are real folks
NY great-great-Rrs was some