The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1901-07-18

put Of date and irritable and cranky,
by George, SIR" said he to himself as
he watched the blue flames struggle
unsuccessfully to leap into something
like cheerfulness. Even my fire won't
burn. I've jawed every man in the
Office to-day, quarreled with every
client l have seen, bullied the janitor
and spent the intervening time in hat
ing myself. | guess Eastman is right.
i ought to take vacation, and see if
/ can't get into some sort of harmony
with things in general"
What was it all worth, anyway
these days and nights of toll? To be
sure, he was successful, far beyond the
measure that comes to the average
man, his reputation was high in the
profession-the greatest cases came
TO him, and he generally won them.
His name stood high in the communi-
ty, and honors on the bench or in po-
litical life waited him at any time he
would accept them. But shese things
held no fascination for him. For 20
years his life had been conferred in
this old-fashioned back office. He had
enjoyed no social life and little COM
partnership with his fellows, excepting
his relations with his partners, his
clients and his opponents in the court
room. He trembled to think of the
result should he lose interest in his
work.
And yet it had not been always so.
Nor was he by nature designed for a
life apart from his fellows. In his
younger days he had been a prince of
good fellows, and had numbered his
friends by the score.
But this was before the broken chap
ter in his life, and that broken chap
ter had changed all the rest of the
story. He thought as he tried to coax
some warmth out of the CRATE how diff
ferent it all might have been. He
arose and locked the door leading to
the outer office, and then he went to
the old-fashioned safe, and, unlocking
a drawer, took from it an old da-
guerrotype. Going back to his seat,
he contemplated the portrait long and
earnestly. 1t was the face of beauti-
full, high-spirited, impetuous girl.
This was the face which had caused
the broken chapter. As he looked at
the old daguerrotype his features soft
ened and he lived over again the old
days when all the horizon was rose
colored. This was away back when he
was boy. He was accounted a smart
boy and was making strides in his pro-
fession, and every effort and every am
bition was centered upon Amy Lester.
She liked him, too-there was no doubt
of that. Even now, at a distance of 20
years and with the keenest knowledge
of men and affairs, he did not doubt
that she loved him in the old days.
They had been youthful sweethearts
and had built all the air castles of two
lives upon a united future. Then came
the firing on Sumter and the call to
arms by President Lincoln. The blood
of the major quickened little even at
this distance of quarter of cen
fury as he recollected the thrill with
which that call had been received. A
delirious month or two and he had
found himself at the front There
rolled before the memory of the ma ior
all the excitement, the dangers, the
deprivations, the heroisms of those
dreadful four years; his steady adj
vancement until he was mustered out
a major of volunteers.
The perspiration rolled from his
face as he remembered his home
coming and found that Amy had
plighted her troth to another-one far
richer than he and the choice of her
family. He had never asked her to
marry him. He had always supposed
it to be understood. They had writ
ten continually, and although her let
ters had grown more formal he had
been so engrossed in his soldierly pro-
fession that he had scarcely had the
time to wonder what the cause was.
So the full knowledge of the truth,
when he arrived home, nearly took him
OFF his feet. His great pride kept him
from doing anything to prevent her
marriage, even had it been possible,
and so she had faded from his life, and
with her all the joy and all the hope
he had ever cherished. Then followed
the weary years in the profession to
which he had turned
A knock aroused the dreamer, and
hastily stuffing the picture in his
pocket he opened the door 1t was
card from one of his most profitable
clients, for whom he had recently won
hardly-contested lawsuit.
"Show him in," grunted the major,
grudgingly.
Accordingly in hustled Peter Van
delmeier, prosperous, pushing, self
complacent, but apparently somewhat
worried.
"You have got to get possession of
that Fletcher property, that's all there
is to it, major" said Vandelmeier, as
he seated himself and mopped his
brow. "Oh, [ know you are not
sheriff or marshal or anything of
that kind" he went on, as he observed
the majors rising ire, "but what good
will our decision do us unless we get
possession of the property? There is
a funny condition down there. A chit
of a grandchild of old man
Fletcher-is in possession, and she
seems to be too much for the officers.
They have failed utterly to get her our
and have about given it up as a bad