The Union times. [volume] (Union, S.C.) 1894-1918, 1895-03-22
my COUSIN MARY.

WIN 20 beautiful, | was told. |
was /bfilliant, though both sides
OF tt house showed men and women
OF @ cellent ability, and worst OF all,
wasSiot good, though this puzzled me
not little as u child, for my intentions
we're OF magnificent order, and the
resultant behavior not nearly so re-
prehensible as that Of many boys
knew, less punished.
But, in some way, the things |
meant to do failed OF accomplishment.
or were found, when accomplished, to
have most unhappy consequences and
the things l did under pressure OF dis
cipline were seldom satisfactory.
Years Of reproOf and often over
heard complaint as to my trying dis
position finally convinced me Of my
unworthiness, and in time | grew TO
look at my life as failure, merely an
opportunity for rs much self-indulgence
as could be procured without too much
expense.
Being of u lazy and luxurious dis
position, l early fell into tho habit of
deriving an ineXhaustible fund OF
pleasure from mere imagination OF
what things might be ; to console
myself for my ineFectual struggle to
make them such. AS a little boy
was sent to bed with military precision
by nv intleXiblc mother, usually with
q sense of failure and ill-doing in the
day behind me, and | used to lie mute
! and still in my little chamber ana
\r.e up to myself in royal bursts OF
gination for the disappointments
he real life. How often, SO laid.
B thought to be sound asleep. !
We, in spirit, not only established my
-eminent virtues by II series of noble
$50 easy to imagine, SO difficult to
yrform vim the gray irkSOmeness OF
everyday life-but besides this have
glutted my infant soul with the sweet
vengeance of magnanimity: arranging
Unparalleled donations and privileges
tope conferred by nae, me tno r.TFne71t-
ablN ana un&orthy son. upon my CRATE.
full and friends. One sweetest
joy these fair dreams was that,
whenI should be man. my Cousin
Mary, who disliked me for the dis
agreeable boy | was, should love and
marry me.
1t was "a sore problem with me in
those days to decide whether [ should
indeed receive the open gratitude OF
my beneficiaries, revelling glOriously
therein or whether, proudest height
of power concealed, | should bestow
all benefits in secret, and yet remain,
condemned and criticized by the un-
whiting recipients of my bounty. But
always loved me for myself alone, and
en-afterward--ah ! the jewels |
showered upon her.
This habit of internally satisfying
myself, of paying back in triumphant
magnanimity for all the stings and
arrows of outrageous fortune con
tinued with me as grew, and remained
nv best consolation after | had become
an unaspiring reporter on great
newspaper. And still in my solitary
chamber down town when | was not so
tired as to sleep perforce in what hours
remained to me, | would console my
self for all notifications OF the day
and of all other days in my unhappy
memory, by proud, unhampcred visions
of what / would do under given con-
ditions of wealth and power.
Splendid conditions these, SO easily
imagined, fitting so smoothly TO my
shoulders as I planned and adapted
them, but ah so laughably impossible
of attainment.
And then, al at once, by Il chance
no stranger. to be sure, than many a
one was IN the daily habit of record
ing, there fell into my hands. not
rs / had demanded in my bOyish
dreams, but wealth practically un-
tauded, such wealth as | could never
OF myself have earned, or won, or
found. or in any least or faintcst way
deserve.
To be sure, had been laying myself
out on the old fellow. as | should never
have dared to do had known him for
q millionaire, but that was not from
benevolence, but a purely selfish APP
probation of his boundless fund of
travel and experience. His society
was worth money to me besides the
pleasure OF it, and therefore did court
him assiduously, with many an enter
tanment and excursion, which again
were no credit to my generosity, for
had not the interminablc tickets and
passes and the duty OF going to all
these weary things?-a duty much
lightened by the society OF the loung-
ing. invalid old gentleman, whom |
supposed no richer than myself.
told him my story, such as it was :
and | am fain to think that some
substle sympathy, some consciousness
of similar experience in his own boy
hood, made him take more Of an in
terest than | then suspected in tnis
poor series OF failures | called my life.
Then he died very suddenly and
screnely, leaving me some unbelievable
millions, and as no one but his solicitor
knew that he had any money, so no
one knew that had any; and be hold
me forthwith in exactly the position OF
nv childish hearts desire
What Joy. What wild, free rapture
OF plans, with occasional bursts OF fancy
which even / dismissed rs quite un-
inc | had M lnppsI,
any faintcst hope OF marrying my
Cousin Mary. She was quite taken
up with another cousin, Fred by name,
hn Inhni.I,inl n m lnnn