The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1893-03-26

Have you no thought of herf" asked the
chlldleSs mau. Can you imagine what
her condition would be were you to dieF'
Very easily" replied the father with an
inexplicable smile. At the same moment
that the smile played over his blue lips, a
dewy moisture broke out upon bis brow. 1t
was naturally invisible to e casual observer
! The mans nerve was superb il spite of its
| display being so highly unnecessary. mo.
| don't think of reforming me. / decline to
sparkle ss jewel in your heavenly crown.
Besides, by this time, respectable London
is too hot to hold me; not, of course, speak,
ing dramatically, but morally"
/ His brilliant and smiling eyes limited az a
new story of debt or shame. The colonel
not only felt but looked as hopeless as a man
who is trying to batter down az iron door
with his fists.
| The younger man laughed Laughed. for
his sex is not the one which weeps.
He continued: "Don't look SO
| down in the mouth, Hugh
| ! may not long incumber the ground, you
know. Since you take an interest in my
| death, l will tell you that exactly nine
months ago l was given but three TO live.
have devilish bad knaok Of disappointing
| expectations. Just recall for a moment
the various honors which you chaps used to
| prognosticate for me. You see. experience
teaches US TO expect nothing from fellows
who go off like rockets from the roof of
alma mater; they are never heard Of again.
| The scrubs mental scrubs you understand
go promptly to work to invent a disease,
| or find worm or write a book, aud get
famous in night. Study over the theorem
and favor me with your deductions.
! But the colonel studied instead the wasted
| physique Of his friend, and said
81 never heard Of your being ILL"
81 am not surprised. No one ever seems
to have heard about me, somehow, and yet
the world, the flesh, the devil, aud have
| raised several pleasing exoitements. | have
disgraced myself in every gentlemanly way
| known to the century. No, there / wrong
myself have never runaway with my
| friends wife; but moralists would be panied
| to know that my sole excuse for the defec-
! ton is that | never had friend"
"Hush! Chevtot-she will hear
"She will hear sound, not sense" said her
| father, with logged pride. "She is an ex-
| pertinent of mine. She has had no mother
| to ruin her morals with nagging patitudes,
so l have been aole to bring her up properly.
! Women make wrong-doing beautiful to
! children by religiOusly warning them away
| from it; now, Cheviot has no conception of
| anything that is not Rood-she has never
heard evil xplained-cousequent to her
mind the world is good, life Is good, man is
| good. The word sIn suggests to her a mere
/ physical discomfort like TIC dotOrOuG or
measles Ny way of bridging up would be
| a failure with a boy, l admit. But a girl
never asks embarrassing questions-either
! from Unborn delicacy or from weakness of
Intellect, take your choice; to her life is a
varied picture; to boy it is a puzzle which
be begins early enough to pick to
| pieces. Cheviot knows only what is good.
| You ought to hear her explain some pol
luted passages of Fielding in the light OF
| her childish and pure understanding. She'll
| hold you Epell-bound. I'll set her at it
| Cbeviotl"
God" cried the colonel, shuddering aud
| gripping Vlance's arm. Harold, you are
| madln
| Indeed, the superstition was not far from
| being correct. A tumult of repressed ex-
element, with bitter recollections and hot
| shame, is apt to madden a naturally erratic
brain into dangerous activity. Moreover,
the fautlessly dressed and irreproaohably
| correct colonel was an unconscious factor
in the disturbance. Oftener than one thinks
does a shining example lead an erripg
! brother into acts of desperation, rather than
| into those of emulation.
CheViot bad come in response to her
| fathers call, and divining that between toe
two men trouble was brewing, she visit
fully asked:
Don't you think, Harold, that it would
| calm your nerves IL you were to play the
| violin for our guestW
count all time lost that might have been
better employed,m answered her father.
Nevertheless she brought the instrument
and placed it in his hands. Then she twined
her fingers into those OF Hugh aud drew
him down into chair to listen, leaning
against him with the pathetic truStfulness
of childhood.
From the moment Vlance's fingers closed
around the slender neck of the violin, his
degradation aud wildne:s fell away from
him like garment. He Strengthened up
With a rapid and masterful touch he tuned
the instrument until it Satisfied his abso"
lutely correct ear; then he laid a cRresslDg
cheek upon it and asked singular ques-
| ton:
"What is the theme, Cheviotp
She gave herself moments thought be-
fore recitinE quantity, Break, break.
break, on thy cold gray stones, o SeaP l
| have just been reading it, Harold"
VERY good indeed, o daughter of q
musician" said Vlance.
He mentally reviewed the poem, repeating
aloud the lines which appealed to MIN.
Every good. Il would that my tongue
could utter the thoughts that arise in me.
Strange that we never took this before,
young Iady.n His bright eyes seemed burn
lngly to pierce the sQualid walls and to see
the restless ocean picture. THE tender
grace of a day that is dead" he said dream-
| lily; and then commenced TO play.
! The ocean surged first, with murmur-
ing tide running in, and every now and
then coming up far enough and high
enough to break upon the crags,
only to wash compleiningly back
again. Next toe ear caught faint melody
q melody that could scarcely make itself
heard above the water which rippled over
it and tried to drown it out Again and again
with sod insistence 1t tried TO be heard, and
90 tafantlU tho brORa and
silenced it and wept at the foot Of the
crags.
Vlance's face was very tender and patient
Gradually the air gained strength and as
serted itself 1t got the mastery. 1t was
beautiful with triumphant pulsations that
bore the soul to mighty nights, and yet at
! the same time went down into a mans
depths and brought up great hRndfuls Of
| God-born thoughts that had been mud-covN
cred for years. 1t was a wonderful. throb-
bling melody that you felt WAS destined to
roll on to stately end 4; but before its COM
| pletion your feared that you heard the sea
again, SO quiet in it's encroachments. yet so
| reslstless. The air faltered, and the voice Of
the sea spoke louder, Break, break break, 4"
and you knew that the grand song was
never TO be finished. Wave after wave
rolled I'D aud broke sullenly over the stones
through all the air strained
after the struggling melody
IL had spent its force and given up. It
was a creeping minor echo OF what
had been. 1t was dreadful to hear the