The record-union., 1893-01-17

He proposed in short that either Dick or
/, or both, ii we so desired, should come
to New Mexico and learn the stock busi-
ness with the view of eventually taking
entire charge of his property. OF course,
the scheme was not to be thought of for
moment. Dick was the only one who
viewed it with anything like favor, and
his enthusiasm over the project was
hardly strong enough to bear down the
rigid opposition.
II am surprised, Dick" said my
mother one evening when the subject was
under discussion; Il am greatly sur
prised that the boy for whom we have
entertained such bright hopes is willing
TO leave his home and studies to become a
cowboy. You are my boy for a number
OF years yet and | will never, never give
my CONSENT
Dick looked very much ashamed at this
outburst and soon turned the cOnVersa-
tion to another and more pleasant subject
TO at least one member of the family. So
1t came about that father answered the
letter, thanking the writer for his kind
offer, but declining to allow his boys to
leave comfortable home for the plains
of New Mexico.
But Uncle Ben was not to be bought off
with song. II did not ask for your
whole family" he wrote sarcastically,
about six weeks later. Il understand
your position fully. Having the good
fortune to be your brother, l know some
thing of your age, your desire for the
companlonship OF your boys and your
aversion to the free, reckless life of the
| w est. True, the influences here Gge not
refining, and it is no place for a stick ler
on conventionalities, which make up a
large part of your existence, but which, /
am glad to state, find no place in my life.
| 1t is useless, however, for ms TO argue
this point, for we could never agree. Your
life is not mine. / do not wish to make
bandits of your highly cultivated sons,
but repeat what l said to you before:
there is great opportunity here for a
young man OF energy-an opportunity
that III the common course of events will
not occur again in a lifetime. | have
made money here, but l am now close on
to 60 years of age. All l have I owe 20
your kindness. | am not unmindful of
your assistance when fate bore down
upon me with heavy hand. Through
you was able to rise and commence the
fight anew. l am not blessed with wife
or children, as you know, and my prop
erty will naturally avert to Henry and
Dick. This property, by reason Of my
age, is receiving lax supervision, and it
is not yielding the returns of former
| years, when l was able to give it my per-
sonal attention. Time was, and it does
not seem so very long ago, when 1 lived
In the saddle. In those days 1 paid off
my hands in person, kept my own ac-
counts, assisted in branding and
'rounding-up,' hired and discharged my
men, rode with them, ate with them and
| slept with them-in short, | conducted
| my business at will and with profit.
1T is different now. Three hours in
the saddle viii put me in bed for a month,
and cold night with the cattle might put
me there indefinitely. 1t really pains me
to tell yoq, but my eyesight is so bad that
| can scarcely recognize my own brand
fifty feet away. This is the situation. [
know that [ am being swindled all
around, and yet in my condition what
can do? Of course, l can turn every
thing into money, and retire; but it seems
to me great shame, and a piece of bad
judgment, to throw away an opportunity,
from which either Henry or Dick could
in few years evolve competency"
So ran the second appeal from our West
ern relative. Dick brought it down to me
one April day, the busiest, and, believe,
the happiest month of my whole life, for
was to graduate the following June.
'What do you think of it?'' he said.
when had finished the letter, and passed
it back to him.
81 have no time to think of anything
outside OF my examination" | replied.
81 have" instantly retorted Dick, "and
/ have come to a decision"
''Indeedr'
''Yes, indeed. 1 am going out West"
"a cowboy" said 1, sarcastically.
We'll, yes; If you choose to put it that
way" was the quick rejoinder. "a stock
| though, before you see me again.
Surely, Dick, you are not serious ?' I
answered, though [ was convinced from
his manner that he was very much in
earnest.
. ou will not throw away your career
and bitterly disappoint father and mother.
after all they have done for you. Be-
sides" l argued, they will object, and
not being of age, you are bound to obey"
II will run away" he said, his face
taking on resolute look.
knowing well the dogged determina-
ton of the boys nature, / was satisfied
that he meant every word that he uttered,
and his rash resolution was the source of
great discontinue to me. / felt convinced
that Uncle Ben would not receive him
against the wishes of my parents, and [
was equally sure that having once left
home he would make poor showing in
the role of prodigal. Failing to realize
the prosperity that would come from the
care and advice of our uncle he would
drift from place to place, becoming at last
a wretched Wanderer, without purpose
and without hope. Before he left for
home, | had exacted promise that he
would defer action in the matter until
after my graduation. ] tried to max ke
| this promise cover an indefinite period of
time, but on this point found him intiex-
IDLE. The great day came at last and
passed off without anything more event.
ful than the failure of several of my class
mates to pass the final examination, and
with my well-earned SheepSkin | hur-
ried home to receive the congratulations
of relatives and friends. With father and
mother, the joy over my success and high
honors was marred by a bitter fear.
Alone with them one evening, they
conhded to me their trouble-their
first great grief. Dick was mani
Testing an unmistakable desire for
low company, and had come home
on several occasions very much under the
influence of liquor. This came in the ma
ture of a surprise to me, for L had seen my
brother nearly every week during my
| residence at college, and had never heard
or seen anything that would indicate the
slightest deviation from the path marked
out and closely guarded by our Puritan
mother. l determined to see the boy
alone, and next morning after breakfast [
found him reclining on rustic lounge
that stood under one of the great elms
which bordered our spacious front yard.
He was reading a book, and did not no.
tiee my approach until L dropped down
| beside him on the seat.
"Dick," l began, don't you know that
you are breaking mothers heart ?''
He threw down the book, rose to his
feet, looked at me earnestly for fully a
minute, then thrust his hands into his
pockets, and commenced to pace restlessly
up and down the gravel walk
You know" l continued, THAT YOU
will kill her if you persist in your reck-
| less conduct. Why will you bring ruin
to yourself, disgrace to US all. and send
this mother in sorrow to the grave? Have
I
! Has all her tender care and watchful
guardianship been for naught?''