Union County courier. [volume] (Elk Point, Union County, D.T. [S.D.]) 187?-1913, 1896-03-19

weird a. that. What's the piece called? It
seems 70 have something almost impish or
sprite-like in its waiting music. It's Hun
tect at once the Oriental tinge in it"
Wrong for once my dear boy hewitt
answered, smiling. Its English. pure
English. and by q lady, what's more-one
| of the Eweses OF Kenilworth. She's q dis
tant relation of Cyril's Miss Clifford, l be-
lieve. An Elna, too; name runs in the
Everything she writes is in that mystic key.
1t sounds like a "reminiscences Of some dim
and lamp-lit Eastern temple. The sort of
thing a nautch-girl might be supposed, to
sing to the clash and clang of cymbais,
while she was performing the snake-dance
before some uggernaut idol"
Exactly Guy answered, shutting his
eyes dreamily; that's Just the very picture
it brings up before my minds eye. AS you
| render it, hewitt, ! seem to see vague Wis
ions Of some vast and dimly lighted rock
hewn cavern, with long vistas Of pillars
cut from the solid stone. while dark-limbed
Eps ,bIs.'esss swing clad aen. n W mh'' fhe "S 9ore'
ground to solemn music. Upon my
word, the power of sound is something
wonderful, There's almost nothing, ! be-
lieve, good nu &c wouldn't drive me to-
or rather lead .ile to; for it sways one, and
! guides even more Than it impels one"
| -L III Cs NSNiNA hiUsSOt ~ cio" oAAS
to himself, taking UP his violin again, and
drawing his bow over the chords with half.
closed eyes in a seemingly ~listless, aimless,
manner, II don't believe music's your real
first love, Guy. You took it up only to be
different from Cyril. The artistic
same at the bottom. Ii you'd let it have
it's own way, you'dhave taken, mott to this.
I'm sure, but TO painting. But Cyril paint
ed, SO, to make yourselfdifferent. you went
in for music. That's you all over! You al
ways have such q hankering a ter being
what you are nOt!'
We'll, hang it all, a man wants to have
some individuality" Guy answered, apollo
getically. He doesn't like to be a mere
copy or repetition Of his brother"
hewitt reflected quietly to himself that
Cyril never wanted to be different from
Guy; his was by far the stronger nature of
the two: he was content to be himself, with
out regard to his brother. But hewitt didn't
say so; indeed, why should he? He merely
went on playing a few disconnected bars Of
a very lively, hopeful, Utopian sort of a
tune-a tune all youth and health. and go
and gaiety-as he interjected from
time to time some brief financial
remarks on the numerous good strokes
he'd pulled off of late in his trans
actions in the city.
Cant do them in my own name, you
know" he observed, lightly, at last laying
down his bow, and replacing the dainty
| white rose in his left button-hole. mot
official for a bank employee to operate on
the Stock Exchange; the chiefs object to it:
SO / do my little ventures in Toms name
nstead-my brother-in-law. Tom Whitleys.
those Cednlas went up another eight yester-
day. Well hit again! I'm always lucky.
And that was a good thing | put you on
last week. too, wasn't it: Did you sell out
to-day? They're up at ninety-six, and you
bought in at eighty
mo, ! didn't sell to-day" Guy answered
with a yawn. "I'm holding on still tor a
further rise. / thought I'd sell out when
they reached the even hundred"
put in. eagerly. 'iYou ought to have
sold to-day. It's the top Of the market.
They'll begin to decline soon. and when
they once begin they'll come down with a
my advice, and sell out the first thing To-
morrow morning. You'll clear sixteen
mounds on each of your shares: that
enough Tor any man. You Dough, ten
shares. | think, didn't you? Well, there
YOU are. you sea- hundred and SIXTY off
hand tor you on your bargain"
Guy paused and reflected a doubtful mo
ment. Yes, III sell out tomorrow,
hewitt, he said, alter a struggle. "or whai
comes to the same thing, you can sell on
for me. But. do you know. my dear
| lclioN. j So1icl1iHts tuilIy ] III u IOOl Iol
my pains. going in for all this silly specu-
lation. Better stick to my guinea a col
unn in the Morning Mail. The risks are
so great, and the gains SO small | don't
believe outsiders ought to back their luck
at all like this on the Stock Exchange"
Montague hewitt acquiesced with cheer
full promptitude, Il agree with you down
to the ground, he said lighting a cigarette,
n putting away at it vigorously. Out
siders ought not to back their luck on the
Stock Exchange. That, | take it, is a self
evident proposition. But the point is.
here, that you're mo al outsider, and you
don't back your luck, which alters the
case. you'll admit. somewhat. You enl-
bark on speculations OF my advice only,
and I'm in a position to judge, as we'll as
any other expert in the city of London,
what things are genuine or what things are
not worth a wise mans attention"
He stretched himself on the sofa with a
lazy, luxurious air, and continued to puff
away in silence ut his cigarette Tor another
ten minutes. Then he drew unostenta-
tiously from his pocket a folded sheet o
toolscap paper, printed after the ashton O
the common comlany prospectus. For .
second or two he read it over to himself in
silence. till Guys curiosity was sufficiently
reused by bis mute proceeding.
What have 0 got there" the journal
list asked at last, eying it inquiringly, as
the fly eyes the cobweb.
ooh, nothing. hewitt answered. folding
the paper up neatly. and returning it to his
pocket. you've sworn off now. so it does
not concern o Just the prospectus of q
little fresh thing coming out next week-a
very exceptional c~llarce-but you don't
want to go in sor It. l mean to apply for
SO certain of its success; and l
had thought of advising you to
take "a hundred aud tity on your
own account a. well. with that hundred