Kingsbury County independent. (DeSmet, Kingsbury County, S.D.) 1894-1929, 1905-01-20
A MIXED MARRIAGE.


to a noble knight who crossed the rnE-t
llsh channel with William the Conf
queror. Barsted's grandfather was lord
OF one of the most ancient manor
houses in England, and Barsted's.
father, being Il younger son. came toi
America to seek his fortune, married.
a charming American girl n present,
ed a large family of children to hisi
adopted country. The English con-,
nection was kept up, however, BY COR
r~espondence and occasional VISITS, andl
when Barsted crossed the ocean a few
years ago to open a Londo office his
cousin. the widow of the late Kenneth
Barsted, invited him down 10 ~Etoopston
Manor TO meet his relatives. And, be-
sides" said Barsted in telling the tale,
she knew | was Il successful Amer,
lean business man, and she wanted 10
ask me why the income of the estate
had dwindled under her management
to a quarter of her husband used
To get out of ii.
We'll. / went down for a few days,
and since | knew she had ten or eleven
children, some OF whom We're girls. i
tool viii me q tall young American
assistant of mine, named Anderson, TO
show him some genuine English coun-
try and genuine English girls. We,
were met at the station and driven
a few miles to Hoopston, which proved
TO be a splendid, big, green old do,
main, with an immense mousse on I'll
dating from Henry Wits time and
using some thick walls n arches OF,
the ancient castle, built four hundred
years earlier and destroyed, mostly, ini
the civil wars.
My cousin. the widow, received lis inl
state under the great Norman archwayl
of her hall, and presented her three
or fou daughters. They We're a state
ly crowd, all six feet tall, more or less,
and as dignifed as only blue blooded
English women can be. That evening
we were all frozen up stiff. Dinner
under the high Gothic windows of the,
old dining room was as gay as a tuner
al; young Anderson hadn't n word to
say and my slangy American talk was
about as comprehensive to hat crowd
as Choctaw. And when ne and ! We're
shown to grand and gloomy chambers,
with walls five feet thick and the chill
of damp centuries in them, we made up
our minds TO die of pneumonia on the,
spot and be cheerful about it.
But in the morning things began
to look more joyous, though Anderson
was much alarmed when Il man stole
into his room before dawn and took
away his clothes. He Brought them
back all brushed, though, and with
them a pitcher OF water, which he ratified
out. ice and ail--it was early February,
/ 2oa ia q III a lINii0Bl VI ~
bathtub. Anderson made a show of
splashing some of that water on the
floor, and got along without a bath that,
morning. Z,
Well the girls were as stiff and,
stsrched as ever while their mother
was around. but when she took me off
look over the estate Anderson tells
me there was a sudden and ha~bbergash
change. Cornelia, The second of these
unmarried daughters, Tipped over,
turned q fine series of a springs
they were on Il sheltered biz Of lawn
under some old trees-and asked her
guest what he thought of that. An,
derson almost fainted-was struck
dumb-whereupon the other girls,
laughed and Joined in the capering like
young colts. hen he caught on.
showed them some American stunts,
and became immensely popular.
You see, those girls We're simply a
troop of wild young animals. Their
brothers were all off at school, or the
university, or the army, or what not.
but the girls had been kept at home
n educated-so they called thy
-governesses. / leave you to imagine
the depth and variety Of their ignor-
ance. Not a magazine, scarcely q
newspaper, ever reached them: they
hadn't a book in the house later tina
G. p. r. James. Once / mentioned
Dickens, as Edith had a cold and
wanted something to read. oh. we
have never read Dickens said the Wild
ow, loftily. Why. what's the matter
with Dickens | inquired. but she sat
down on me hard. You know he
wasn't a gentleman she said.
After that / gave up-there was no
undermining that family. Those girls
had spent their lives running and rid
ing n hunting over tha place, and
the great democratic procession OF our
time was as remote from them as King
Solomon. At eighteen each one of
them had a season in London with
some rich lord of an uncle and was
presented at court. If she went off,
caught q husband, that is
well n good; if not, back
home she anne to stay the
rest of her days, probably, for husbands
were scarce around Hoopston, and
dowers were scarcer--one son-in-law
was still complaining because his wife
had brought him only five thousand
pounds instead of ten.
Well, you know, by some hocus-po-
Gus OF Cupid, Anderson took q fancy tc
that tall barbarian, Corneliai PERHAPS
IL was her riding nat caught him first
they We're jumping fences an over the
place together, n he showed her al
his cowboy tricks. Before L knew II
he was going down again from London
and when the third time came / tol0
him TO look out, for the widow woul6
ask his intentions-sure. Then he sur
prised me--he said he didn't mind-he
had intentions. Cornelia q / asked, and
he said 'Cornelia.'
| meditated a minute and then said.
Well. ook here; I'm responsible for
this. What can you say for your grand
fathers? The widow will want to trace
you back a few centuries, and you've
got about as much ancestry as a
mud fence. Anderson laughed and
turned on me. I'D like to knowl' he
said. Isn't my mother a ID. A. r.? I'll
show the widow a pedigree that will
make you Barsteds look like thirty
cents Good for you. / exclaimed. Go
in and win. After all, you won't be
wanting a DOVER
We'll, il you please. he had no trou-
BILE at all. The widow never asked a
question about his family--an Amer
lean, 1t appears, doesn't have TO have a
family. And SO the wedding bells will
ring at Hoopston chapel in June. and
Cornelia is going Off without a dover.
and I'm wondering what she will thirl,