Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1910-05-24

| 1t into his head to cut him off with
shilling tomorrow"
| "Oh, but he would never do such
wicked thfngi" exclaimed Mrs. Moore,
| quite shocked.
There is no saying what an old man
may not do" returned the other, i'm
pressively "Eesides, hasn't old Mus
grave got & prodigal son somewhere Or
other, whom he kicked put of doors in
days gone by?"
| "Oh, no, l don't think So answered
Mrs. Moore; Il never heard a word
about his having had any children"
well. have. Upon second thoughts
I'm not sure that it wasn't a prodigal
daughter. Anyhow. there was some
body"
| Mrs. Moore made mental note of
| the alleged circumstance, and mean
while Fred. unconscious of the disa-
greeable possibilities which were be-
| ing forecast on his behalf, was dancing
with pretty little Susie Moore. 1t so
CHANGED that when their waltz was
over, and when he had led her into the
apology for a conservatory which adj
| Joined the ballroom, she began, in the
innocence of her heart. to question him
| about his present manner of life and
his plans for the future, of which she
was even more ignorant than her moth
| er.
| my present ambition" he informed
| her, "is to develop into dramatic au-
| thor That is very respectable sort
| of ambition, it seems to me, though my
uncle thinks differently"
Your uncle and you generally do
think differently, don't you? That must
be rather disagreeable for you." said
Susie.
'Oh, I'm accustomed to it, and don't
mind. Every now and then we have a
quarrel-we are supposed to be in the
midst of a quarrel at present-but it
blows over after a bit, and we go on as
before"
Does that mean that you always
end by doing what you wish?"
well, pretty much; but then / new
er wish to do what he has any bust
ness to dislike"
81 should think he must lave been
very kind to YOU" observed Susie after
moment of reflection; you seem TO
live only to amuse yourself"
| "Oh, Miss Moore, what cruel think
to say My amusements are quite
healthy and innocent. l play cricket;
shoot little, when l get the chance;
/ hunt a little. if anybody is good
enough to give me mount; and some
times l take a part in private theatre
calls. There's no harm in all that, is
| there?"
mo- only I should have thought that.
with your talents, you might have been
better employed"
| Il know what you mean; I ought TO
have a profession. Now, I'll tell you
exactly how that matter stands. Short
| ly after l matriculated my uncle gave
me my choice of the professions which
he said were the only ones open to a
gentleman. There wern't great many
of them. The navy, of course, was out
of the question; so that there remain
cd the army. the church, the bar, and
diplomacy. 1 chose the army. He said,
very well; only / must take my degree
first-which practically disposed OF
that Diplomacy wouldn't do, because
of my ignorance of foreign languages;
| / didn't feel that I had any vocation
for the church; and accordingly 1 swai-
lowed the requisite number of dinners
and became a barrister. But the study
of the law is simply loathsome to me,
whereas 1 really do think that I have
some little turn for the composition of
| dramatic dialogue. Consequently
write plays instead Of pleading cases.
| "And is he very angry with your"
| "Oh, he says he never was so dis
gusted and disappointed in all his life.
/ He has been quite as much disguised
and disappointed scores of times before,
and he will continue to be so to his dy
ing day"
But don't you think you ought to
try and do what he would like asked
| Susie.
THAT would be an impossible ideal
to strive after, because nobody has ever
| yet discovered what he would like.
would a great deal rather try to do
what you would like, Miss Moore"
81? Oh, but l am not your uncle"
1 Let us assume, for the sake of ar
gument, that you are my aunt; you will
| find me a dutiful and submissive
nephew"
Susie declined the responsibility
which it was sought to thrust upon
her; yet, on being little further press
| ed. she did not refuse to state what
supposing that she had any reason 10
| feel a personal interest in Mr.. Mus
| graves career-she would desire on his
behalf. A man, she thought. ought al
ways to set some definite object before
| himself and work toward it; but she
| admitted that the circumstance of his
| being a barrister does not compel him
to keep one eye forever fixed upon the
woolsack. One may very well deserve
to be Lord Chancellor without attain
| Ing to that dignity, whereas one can
| scarcely become the most successful
dramatic author of the period without
deserving it. Therefore the ambitious
playwriter is rather more likely 10
reach his goal than the ambitious BAR
rister, while both ambitions must be
pronounced equally legitimate.
| Now, anybody can guess what course
a conversation thus initiated was sure
to take, and If Fred Musgrave. when
he left the house. had not declared his
| love TO Susie Moore, that was because
he was a conscientious young man. and
knew that he had no business to pro-
pose TO any one without having pre-
viously obtained his uncle's permission
to do so. And so, as he was being
driven in a hanson toward the cham
bers in st. James where he dwelt, he
whistled light and had Wis
/ ions of a happy future. He would 20
down to oxford the very next day. he
resolved. and make il UP with his I'M
Gle.
After having reached his destination
he ran upstairs. and on the table he
espied the telegram from the Master
of All Saints. which had been lying
there for the last six hours or more.
Come here as soon as you can. Your
uncle is dangerously ill.,"
The young man was startled. He
had heard nothing of this illness, and
was quite unprepared for a summons
which. unfortunately. he could not at
once obey. The first train for Oxford
would leave at $3.50. and il was now
nearer 5 than O'Clock. Ii was hardly
worth while to go TO bed, so he chang
ed his clothes. packed up few things.
and waited until it was time to start
Upon further refiection he did not feel