Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1892-08-04

| when we are alone" said his son, with
| glance toward the be-ribbOned, be-
| jeweled person, who boldly kept her
| place by his fathers side.
You can go, my DEAR" said tie old
! man, turning his eyes on her sdrcas-
| tically, land amuse yourself by putting
| on few more geWgaWs. You viii cut
tine figure in 'em when 1 am gone,
| and, if you play your cards well, may
| even marry-my cOurierW
The door closed with a bang on pet
| ticOat, that on the way to it had con-
trived to overturn a table laden with
| bottles and other paraphernalia of sick
ness.
"a sweet creaturer' said Mr.. Eyre.
dryly; her playful spirit has kept me
| alive these five years. There's no
damned iteration about her; but, on
| the contrary, never-ending variety
| and she nurses me deyotedly. There's
time yet to put codicil to my Will"
He smiled sardOnically at his sons
back; but that gentleman had moved
away, and was looking out of the open
window.
And L really am not difficult to
| please" he went on. Il think it was
| Byron's servant. Fletcher, who remark
ed that he never knew lady who could
not govern his master, except his wife;
but | have omitted to inquire for the
health of my daughter-in-laW, whose ac-
| quaintance, by the way, | have never
| made"
"She is WE'LL" said Mr.. Eyre, briefly.
''She must be be wonderful crea-
| tuTe," said the old man, a sheer lifting
| his hard mouth; lin short the whole
race of women-epitomized. [ am told
| she is handsome"
| Mr.. Eyre half smiled in scOrn Of such
a description of Madcap-Madcap Of
whom, with Sir Thomas Overbury's
milkmaid, might be said. ''GI her erceL-
lencieS stand IN her silently 0s # they had
| stolen on her aCHbOW her knowledge"
"But so were the Others" continued
| old Nh. Eyre; land though / could I'M
! derStand your remaining so long III a
| coin du fen to which you were not legal
| ly tied-a great charm that, and one
| that has kept many man in it for life
| out of pure cOntradictiOn-thiS married
| business of yours is beyond me. %!
mirth and innocence! O! milk and wa
terp"
did You summon me here solely to
| discuss such topics as these?" said his
| son, pausing moment in his walk.
Il didn't send for you to preach to
me-" said the old man, with snarl;
keep your damned moral airs for Ar
cadia; and as to dying, what's life
what's death? The one breeds worm,
| that other feeds it; and, like Byron, l
| hope it is no sin to laugh at all things;
| for, after all, what are all things but a
| show? But you'll stay here" he added,
in different tone, whether it's three
hours or three weeks to the end"
No." said Mr.. Eyre; Il can remain
here but three days"
Be sure I'll not detain you a mo-
ment longer than [ am obliged said
the old man, dryly. why didn't you
bring her?" he added, sharply; there's
no knowing what Bluebeard's closet she
mayn't be peeping into in your absence,
so much innocence requires deal OF
watching over"
"Oh, I'm not afraid" said Mr.. Eyre,
inditferently.
You are fOrtunate," said the old
| man; II never tried SO risky an expert
ment. My idea Of happiness has been
independence of everything and every
bOdy,-and that you can't be, when you
see the direct effect Of your every deed,
good or evil, upon those you love.
PshaW!" he added, as though ashamed
| of the mOmentary touch Of feeling;
what do | know of love? Love with
old men, as great authority takes care
to inform us, costs trs'ate mile francs a
year."
Mr.. Eyre turned away, and the old
mans eyes followed him, as with firm
step he walked to and fro.
1.-The life suits YOU" he said sudden
ly; you look years younger than when
/ saw you last-cIearly responsibility
has it's gains. / don't know why it
should not, if it pulls with your inclina-
ton; besides, you sacrifice nothing to it.,
and there you show sense. After all.
can appearances and the worlds good
opinion give you single thing worth
having? Health, sleep, appetite, free
| dom. friendShip-it's curious how little
| all these are affected by what people
say"
Good name in man or woman" said
Mr.. Eyre absently, his soul and thoughts
with Madcap.
'Poohl" said the old man, "that's if
their name is their living, not other
wise. You like your present life be-
cause your wife suits you; if she didn't,
you would think twice before settling
among those billiards and make your
self one of them. And to be sure, when
you die" he went on, reverting to his
usual tone, There will be much lip
who follow you-yOur burial may be
more decOrOus, but it won't be half as
well attended as mine. To be really
loved by your neighbOrs, you must fail
in life from their point of view, and
they must pity you; to be aware of the
secret difficulties and backSlidingS of
your friends is to love them, while to
hear perpetually of their virtues and
success is to avoid their very mention.
Now, in the country you will always be
a Greek quotation that nobody under
stands, a standing reminder to folks of
their ignorance, and detested accord
ingly; but in town there's a great field
open to you; in Parliament you will have
full scope for your abilities. and since
| you feel the disgrace of our name so
keenly, you might even have the OppOr-
| tunity of being the founder OF new
line"
Il have thought of it BEFORE" said
Mr.. Eyre, carelesslv; ''but | won't quit
my country life. Ten years ago, per-
haps, L might have thought OF 1t, but
now"
And so the life contents you?" said
the old man. but mark me, it won't
always. Happiness alone will never
satisfy an Eyre; besides, you're yege-
tating-not really enjoying life. Who
is it that says one must be light-hearted
as Frenchman of the eighteenth cent
ury, or sensual as an Italian of the SIX
teenth, to be actually happy"
Il desire no more" said Mr.. Eyre,
looking at his watch; land now |, must
leave you for short time, to write let
ters."-
AS he left the room by one door, the
abigail entered it by the other.
| '.MOre geWgaMs.n said his father,