The Bourbon news., 1897-12-17
CHAPTER I.


pared to a superb annual which, tower
ing slzyward, blooms bravely for sea-
son, but dies rootless, leaving to those
who have loved and admired it tender
memories of beauty and fragrance
nothing more.
He inherited early in life good un-
derstanding, fine estate, famous cellar
of Madeira, and the handsomest legs in
America. These, in combination, fur
nished himself and his friends with an
abundance of meat, drink and enter
taiDment. He spent his money like
prince, and, wherever he went, scat
tered broadcast both dollars and jests.
Need 1 add that his purse grew lighter
than his laughter?-that he died full
of years and honors-a pauper?
A brilliant man of the world, he never
attempted to make money, because, as
he often observed, the catchpenny cares
of a merchant o. banker wore away, by
constant attrition, the bloom of high
breeding-that exquisite veneer which
distinguishes from the common herd
the gentleman of lineage, leisure and
culture.
Nv mOther-sweet soul! I can scarce
recall her face-was a Schermerhorn;
her full-length portrait (by the younger
West hangs to-day in the gallery of
Barabbas Boulde. The curious will
please note that it is fanl1ed on the left
by remarkable picture of a sapphire
and diamond necklace, a masterpiece
of Meissonier (the great Frenchman
has paid but scant attention to the
coarse, putty-colored features of Mar
tha Boulde, rightly considering that
the gems, not the woman, deserved inn
mortality, and on the right by a Ma
donna of Andrea del Sarto. Between
these two presentments of things
material and things spiritual stands my
dear mother, who settled with the mic
est adjustment in her own lovely per-
son the conflicting claims of body and
soul. Ny father has said a thousand
times that she loved him tenderly to the
day of her death-I was barely ten
years old when this great misfortune
befell me-and he swore fondly that of
all the women he had met she alone
had enshrined herself in his heart as
of her sex.
So much for my elders and betters.
Before my father died, he gave me
some advice. He had little else to be-
stow.
Hugo" said he q was named after
him), what are your plans for the fu-
ture?''
''The future?" I replied, vaguely:
upon my soul, I've been so occupied
with the PRESENT. had just been
graduated from Yale-"that the future
has not had my consideration"
Hugo" said my father, graveIy,
you are young and ardent; and to
such the choice of a profession is no
ha'penny matter"
"There is the law"
You would make sorry lawyer"
II might go west"
THE farmer, Hugo, is the historical
fool. Go east, if you wish to travel;
the Pierian spring is not to be found in
Colorado or California. If you were
an Englishman, l should advise the
army or navy; but you are too old, and
our officers play but paltry role. AS
mOney-grubber you would have to sac
rifice On the altar of Mammon your
youth, your breeding, your conscience"
Il quote my father verbatim, neither
indorsing nor condemning his words
land that precious thing, your leisure"
What am I to do?"
MAKE haste slowly, my dear lad.
The small sum you inherit under your
mothers will is sufficient to carry you,
afoot, all over Europe. Your face,
name and wits should prove passports
to decent society. Leave this question
of profession sub judice; but don't
idle, and, wherever you may be, set
apart so many hours each day to seri-
GUS study"
Conceding that my father was a man
of prejudice, 1 submit that his advice
was sound as Newton pippin, and
came not amiss. / believe in the con-
servation of energy, and his words
chimed harmoniously with my own
nebulous ambitions. Accordingly,
some two months after his funeral l
decided to set forth upon my travels,
being reasonably certain that he knew
JItG DcUlNE UItdU kucW ScII, dLO
doubling nothing of his affection and
solicitude for my welfare.
''The Lord help you!" said my moth
er's cousin, famous banker, who had
offered me a stool in his counting
house. You are a bigger fool than
your father
did you ever tell my father to his
face that you considered him fOol?"
l looked him fiercely in the eye, and
he stammered out: "N-n-no."
81 thought not. have his whip in
my possession, sir, and know how to
use it,"
In this Cambyses vein 1 cut adrift
from an influential kinsmah who had
good-naturedly flung me tow-liEe. In
his wake might have steered my bark
to fortune, lolling at ease in the stern
sheets; but l was no parasite, ard my
dear fathers good name was ny most
precious possession.