The Press. (Stafford Springs, Conn.) 1883-1935, 1892-11-03

dining table. The Vandykes went.
Hugh, of Cromwell's days, was divorced
from his wife, the Beauty. tried to
keep them together; but scrubs bought
them and stuck them up in their vulgar
parlors. Sorry business! Sorry bust
ness!"
"You kept brave heart through it
ALL"
eyes, until they accused me Of dis
honesty. That felt bitterly, and every
body gave me the cold shoulder. I could
get nothing to do. There is not much
that broken down gentlemen can do.
but no one would trust me. grew
poorer than you can conceive. lost all
heart. Men are poor creatures-,,s q
desolate man finds"
ttNot all, hope" was my protest.
"Truly not all, but the friends of pros
perity are birds that come to be fed and
| fly away when the crumbs give out. All
are not base and time serving, but men
are busy and careless, and fancy that
others can always take care of them
selves. could not beg, sir. but it came
near starvation to me in Christian Eng
land-to me and my young daughter,
within year after my misfortunes.
Perhaps / was oyerproud or overvain,
but grew tired of the sights of people
that had known me in my better days,
and now lodged me because was shah
by and poor. l wanted to get out of
sight of the ungrateful. ungracious
world. The blue sky grew hateful to
me. ! must live, or if life was nothing
to me my daughter must not starve. !
had choice of factory or coal mine to
hide myself in. sank into coal mine. !"
"a strange contrast!" said, after a
pause.
81 am trying to make the whole his
tory less dreamy. Each seems unreal
my luxurious life at Clitheroe Hall, and
my troglodyte life down in the coal pit.
Idler and slave; either extreme had its
own special unhappiness and unhealthi-
ness"
weakness of the old mans characteri
The more talked with him, the more
pitiable seemed his destiny. stOh, John
Brentr' l groaned in my heart, "plead
with the daughter as man never pleaded
before. We must save them from the
dismal fate before them. And if she
cannot master her father, and you, John
Brent, cannot master her, there is no
hope"
My friend made no sign that he was
ready to close his interview with the
lady. The noise of the ball still came to
us with the puffs of the evening wind.
I prompted the communicative old gem
tleman to renew his story.
81. have seen the interior of some of
the Lancashire mines; have read the
blue book upon them," said. "You
must have been in a rough place, with
company as rough"
'sIt was hard for a man of delicate
nurture. But the men liked me. They
were not brutes-not all-if they were
roughs. Brutes get away from places
where hard work is done. My mates
down in the mine made it easy for me.
They called me Gentleman Hugh.
was rather proud, sir, confess, to find
myself liked and respected for what
was, not for what I had. It was hard
life and rough life, but it was an hon
est life, and my child was too young to
miss what her birth entitled her to-
sit was in our mine that first knew
of the Latter-day church. For years
had drudged there, and never thought
or in fact for myself much cared, tt
come out. had tried the pleasures a1d
friendships of gay life; they had nothing
new or good to give me. For years
had toiled, when the first apostle came
out and began to make proselytes to ths
faith in our country. They have neve,
disdained the mean and the loWly.
tell you, sir, that we in our coal pit. and
our brothers in the factories, listened 1,
apostles who came across seas and Ia
bored among us as If they loved oul
souls. The false religions and outgrowl
religions left us in the dark; but the tru,
light came to us. My mates in the Ian
cashire mine Joined the church by hun
dreds. was still blind and. careless I
was not until long afterward that tht
time for my conversion came.
Gas my daughter grew up felt that
ought to be by her. had worked d Ion.
time in the mine, and was known to hay,
some education. The company gave mi
a clerkship in their Office, and there
drudged again for years, asking no he'll
or favor. It was in another part of tn.
, county from my old residence, wher
nobody knew me. My dear childish,
has always been good child to me, ex
cept that she sometimes wishes to rule
little too much-my dear Ellen becam
almost woman, and all / lacked wa
the means of giving her the position o
! her rank. Education she got herself
We were not unhappy, she and together
, lonely as we might be and out of place.
The old gentleman had been talking Q
> himself in such cheerful, healthy wa,
. and shown that he had borne such
brave heart through his troubles that
.. began to puzzle myself what could hav
again changed his character and mad
| him the weakling had recognized il
the interview with Sizzum.
: sit is very kind Of you," he said, st
! listen to garrulus old fellow. You
l sympathy is very pleasant, but l mus
: not test it too far. I will end my Ion
. story presently.
81 supposed myself entirely forgotten
as was quite willing to be. BY and b
Twas remembered and sought. A IA
away kinsman had left me "a legacy.
was enough for quiet subsistence 70
Q us two, for Ellen and me. returned t
J. the neighborhood of my old home.
: found little cottage on the banks o
Ribble within sight of my old friend
Pendle hill. There we lived"
From this point Mr.. Clitheroes man
ner totally changed. His voice grey
peevish and complaining. All the man
ly feeling he had showed in briefly de
scribing his day laborer's life passe
away. He detailed to me how the new
proprietor at Clitheroe Hall patronizet
him insuferably; how his old neighbor