Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1908-06-09

name and title is Lord Wllfred VIM
cent, for he is the younger son of the
old duke of Totten. Men Of his own
age call him Freddy" but l call him
Vincent or Wilfred, because l consider
curtailed appellations undignified. VIM
cent is an artist-that is, he calls him.
self one: his friends call him "a dab
bier in art" He doesn't really go in
for il seriously, you know, but he did
little sketches of COWS and that sort of
thing rather We'll. fancy. So we
agreed that our aim was TO find lit
tie old village, far away from London,
and get rooms in some old farmhouse.
My idea was that Vincent would go
out and paint the cows while l would
lie in the hammock and the old lady
would bring me buttermilk. Wilfred
had an idea that he, too, would like to
spend a good bit of his time in ham,
mock. but with this difference, that
the old lady's beautiful daughter was
to bring him lemonade. But l pointed
out to him that the chief reason that
| was running away from town was to
get rid of the debutantes, and therefore
he'd have to leave the fair ones out
Of our air castle.
Our plan was just to bask in Nature,
and we had six weeks to bask in. The
foreign office doesn't seem to require
much of Wilfred's time and he doesn't
do anything else except "dabble." OF
course. being a younger son, he hasn't
a shilling of his own, but the old duke
makes him a comfortable allowance,
because he dotes on Wilfred as much
as he detests his eldest son, Edmund,
the heir to the dukedOm. So, when
Vincent complained of feeling "all run
down" it was easy for him to get six
weeks off, although, as I tell him, he
has been getting six weeks off, ever
since he left Oxford, two years ago.
He isn't "a yet.
Nevertheless, Vincent is one Of the
best little chaps in the world. l don't
mean that he is underSiZed, for he
stands six feet two in his stockings;
but is so good natured, so jolly and
amiable and neutrality-suspicious. nat
urally nice, don't you know-that ev-
erybody is Just crazy about him." as
the American girl l met last summer
used to say, and all the men, young and
old alike, have gotten to calling him
little Vincent or Freddy" from his
Eton days. just by way of endearment.
OF course. I'm much older than Vim
cent-to be more exact, there's mat
ter of IL or Is years between us-but
l must say l can't help being drawn
to him. I've known him ever since he
was born, and then, you see, were
both Oxford men. belong to the same
clubs, and, of course, Terhune is as
old a name as Vincent, even if it hasn't
any handle to it. and, if l do say it.
there's never a dinner given in Lon
don town that Archibald Terhune is
not invited. But. somehow. in this, my
of the limelight, the dinners, the balls.
the match making mammas (for l am
an eligible bachelOr"O, and, most of
all. the debutantes with their educat-
ed smiles and cultivated Stares. l felt
that must flee from London to escape,
and thus, as Vincent is always ready
for a holiday. we found ourselves one
fine day we'll started on our journey,
We had taken the noon train for Kings
bridge, and changing there were to go
on TO Cuppstone, which an artist
friend Of Vincent's had recommended
to US as just the place we were looking
for.
Jolly lark this" said Vincent after
we had been some time on our way;
"only hope Cuppstone and Damer'S
farm will be what we want. Graham
cracked it up to the skies"
That's the trouble" l complained;
when a things talked up too much it's
sure to disappoint one"
Wait till you see it, old pessimist!
said Vincent, with a cheerful grin.
It's got cows which provide butter
milk and art, and I've got some lem
ons in my grip for the lemonade. The
only thing that troubles me is the
landlady's beautiful daughter. I'm
afraid she'll be a minus quantity.
Then he put his feet across on my
side of the carriage and lit nasty
smelly. old pipe. That's the worst of
Vincent: he's so young he doesn't think
how a thing like that may get on ones
nerves. But 1 wouldn't hurt his feel
ings for anything. and 50 l had to lei
him smoke.
About three o'clock in the afternoon
when we had left the comfortable car
rages of the main line for the ram
shackle ones of the branch line. we
came to a sudden stop in the center OF
a big stretch of meadow land. A few
miles away we could see the spires and
roofs Of little village. and what was
more noticeable, a big castle, that stood
on higher ground some distance above
the town, but not far from where the
train had stopped. asked the guard
what the trouble was, and he told me
that something was wrong with the
engine and it might be a couple OF
hours before we could go ahead.
Just as he finished his explanation
Vincent. who had been looking out OF
the window with great interest sprang
TO his feet and shook my shoulder eX-
citedIy. Look there! Do you see
them?" he cried, pointing at the beau
tiful meadows with their winding
stream and gentle slopes.
See what" | demanded somewhat
testify adjusting my glasses and sur
veying the landscape without preceiv-
ing anything Of unusual interest.
But Vincent. in fever of haste, was
kneeling and unstrapping his goli
clubs "HoOray." he cried, "Terhune
q golf course as I'm sinner. Come
on. we'll have some sport. The ole
trains due to wait an hour, anyhow.
looked again. and, sure enough,
saw that at intervals the clOse-croppeo
grass was dotted with little red flags
like sparks of fire on a carpet OF