Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1896-03-27
MISCELLANY.
CHARLEY wIBURN's LUCK,

Charley Wiburn and | are cousins; but.
somehow, / scarcely seemed to belong to
the family at all. We had no end of rela-
tions, and he was general favorte with
all, even some he had never seen, for they
would die and leave him legacies. He was
constantly getting some little "windfall''
of this kind, till at length "Charley Wi
burns luck' became general catchword
among us-a synonyme for all that was
lucky and fortunate.
One morning at breakfast - we were
artists, and shared the same rooms and
studio-he received a black edged letter,
which, upon opening and reading, he cast
down with disconnected look.
"Another funeral to go to, ;" he grumbled,
'and here are my pictures unfinished, and
next week is sending-in day"
"Who is it now?" | asked. "Another
legacy, l suppose, eh?'
Every likely" he returned, indfferently
he was so used to these things he scarcely
took any notice of them now. ats Uncle
Alexander Stephen. Did you know him?"
l shook my head. "Have you ever
heard of him; never saw him." said.
81 hardly knew him myself" Charley
explained-"at least not since was a boy.
It's rare bother, this, coming just now.
Such long journey into the country.
say, Jack, you have done your pictures
and have sent them in, and have nothing
to do for a spell-couldn' you go down for
me?"
"What, in your name?" exclaimed.
Eyes; why not? It's years since | was
among any of the set. This letter is from
a Mr.. Parchly, the solicitor to the will,
suppose he doesn't know me. You are
Jack Wiburn -- it's only a difference of
Christian name; and it S all in the family.
you know"
To cut the matter short, had to consent
as | generally did where Charley was
concerned.
| took the lawyers letter, as a sort of
credential, and set out, grumbling a good
deal at what | considered Charley
'cheek" in thus making use of me. If
had finished up my work before he had, it
was only because | had worked at it more
constantly; and now, instead of reading
the advantage in the shape of a few days
rest, he made it an excuse for sending me
off on lugubrious mission like this; and
Charley would, no doubt, have a good
legacy, too, out of it.
81 don't suppose it's much" he said to
me. perhaps hundred or two-hardly
worth going down for, you know!'
So l had to go-with no legacy in view
at all, small or large!
However, as l have said, set out for
the place-it was in Devonshire-and in
due course l arrived at the little town, and
put up at hotel for the night. The flu
neral was fixed for the following day, and
on inquiry l learned that the house | had
to go to was only short distance away.
The npYt Hau fhapafora
the assembled guests. | found out Mr..
Parchly, and silently showed him his own
letter. "Ah," said he, "you are Mr.. Wi
burn. Very good. Glad to see you" |
did not reply, so he concluded that was
Charley Wiburn, without my having said
anything one way or the other.
But, when, after the funeral the will
came to be read, l found Charley was down
for $1,000! This made me think it harder
lines than ever that l should have had to
come down in his place. The weather was
atrociously cold; the March winds strong
and clustering, with showers of sleet and
snow; and felt cold and miserable. At
the end of the reading of the will was
making my way out to get back to the
hotel, when some one said: "Mr. Wiburn,
L believer" | looked around, and saw
stiff, milltary-looking old boy regarding me
with smile through his spectacles.
"Charley," said he, "don't you remember
me"' l thought to myself, "Oh, now I'm
in for it. Here's a nice mess-all through
trying to serve Charley. Just my bad
luck" This feeling did not grow less
when he said: "Milly wants to speak to
you. She has been looking at you, and
says she can hardly recognize you for her
old playfellow." Ono wonder" [ thought.
ut would be strange if she didr')
She came up and shook hands; and the
moment l looked at her l simply fell help.
lessly over head and ears in love then and
there. She seemed to Inc the loveliest,
most adorable creature l had ever seen. A
sudden resolve came into my mind. Rather
than run the risk of losing the chance |
now had of speaking to her, | would say
nothing about my not being "Charley," let
the consequences be what they might
Don't you remember your little play
mate, Milly|' said she, with blush and
an enhancing look of her beautiful eyes.
"Well, it's not so surprising, for should
never have known you, either, if Mr..
PaIchly had not pointed you out to u.s."
Before l exactly realized what | was
doing, was whisked off to Major Rain
fields house - as l found the name of
Milly's father to be-to dine, calling at the
hotel for my evening "togs' on the way.
found the majors house neat, quiet
looking place, on the outskirts of the town.
de lived alone with his daughter This wife
being dead, housekeeper and one SER
want. Though everything was comfortable,
there was that indescribable air that gave
one the impression that they were not too
well off as regards this worlds goods.
Since | was not too well off, either, this
would not have troubled me, but for that
legacy of $4,000 l was supposed to have
come in for. "Was that the secret cause
of this sudden friendliness?" l asked my
self. But when looked at Milly, and saw
the frank glance of her truthful honest
looking eyes, l felt ashamed of myself;
nor, when regarded the major, and noted
the open, manly look the fine old soldier
gave back to me, could bring myself to
think OF him as a scheming old fortune
hunter.
Such good friends did we three become
that L fingered on in the place for a week,