Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1919-07-25

VI lOWu-C lldlupdBuei ehONy PiSoShtS >
a colossal present from the Major.
Then Wilbur will take Isabel on the
carefuIest little wedding trip he can
manage, and she'll be a good wife to
him, but they'll have the worst spoiled
lot of children this town will ever
see."
"How on earth do you make that
out, Mrs. Foster"
"She couldn't love Wilbur, could
she?" Mrs. Foster demanded, with no
challengers. "Well, it will all go to
her children, and she'll ruin 'emW
The prophecies proved to be mis-
taken in a single detail merely: except
for that her foresight was accurate.
The wedding was of AmbersOnian
magnif1cence, even to the floating oy-
sters; and the Majors colossal pres
ent was a set of architects designs
for a house almost as elaborate and
impressive as the Mansion, the house
to be built in Anderson addition by
the Major.
At midnight the bride was still be
Ing toasted in champagne, though she
had departed upon her wedding jour
ney at ten. Four days later the pair
had returned to town, which prompt
ness seemed fairly to demonstrate
that Wilbur had indeed taken Isabel
upon the carefulest little trip he could
manage. According to every report
she was from the start "a good wife
to him." but here in final detail the
prophecy proved inaccurate. Wilbur
and Isabel did not have children; they
had only one.
"Only one" Mrs. Henry Franklin
Foster admitted. "But I'd like to
know if he isn't spoiled enough for
a whole carlOadw
Again she found none to challenge
her.
At the age of nine George Amber
son Minafer, the Majors one grand
child, was a princely terror, dreaded
not only in ANDERSON addition but in
many other quarters through which
he gallOped on his white pony. "By
golly, l guess you think you own this
town. an embittered laborer COM
planned one day, as George rode the
pony straight through a pile of sand
the man was sieving 81 will when
I grow up" the undsturbed child re-
piled. 81 guess my grandpa owns it
now, you betw And the batfied work
man, having no means to controvert
what seemed a mere exaggeration Of
the facts, could only mutter, "Oh, pull
down your vest! !"
Don't hat to! Doctor says it amt
healthy" the boy returned promptly.
"But tell you what I'll do: I'll pull
down my vest if you'll wipe off your
chinw
This was stock and stencil: the ac-
cuStomed argOt Of street badinage of
the period; and in such matters Geor-
gle was an expert. He had no vest
to pull down; the incongruous fact
was that a fringed sash girdled the
juncture Of his velvet blouse and
brooches, for the Fauntleroy period
had set in, and Georges mother had
50 poor an eye for appropriate things,
where George was concerned, that
she dressed him according to the doc
trine of that school in boy decoration.
Not only did he wear silk SASH and
silk stockings and broad lace collar
with his little black velvet suit: he
had long brown curls, and often came
home with burrs in them.
Except upon the surface (Which was
not his own work but his mOther's)
George bore no vivid resemblance to
the fabulous little Cedric. The sto-
ried boys famous Lean on me, grand
father" would have been difficult 10
imagine upon the lips of George. A
month after mis- ninth birthday ami
versary, when the Major gave him his
pony, he had already become acquaint-
ed with the toughest boys ia various
distant parts Of the town, and had
convinced them that the toughness Of
a rich little boy with long curls might
be considered in many respects SUI
periOr to their own. He fought them,
learning how to 60 baresark at GER
tain point in a fight, bursting into
Tears of anger, reaching for rocks ut
tering walled threats of murder, and
attempting 10 fulfill them. Fights
often led to intimacles, and he ac-
quired the art of saying things more
exciting than Don't hat tor and
doctor says it amt healthy" Thus
on a summer afternoon strange boy,
sitting bored upon the gatepost Of the
Rev. Malloch Smith, beheld George
Anderson Minafer rapidly approach
ing on his white pony and was I'M
PEELED by bitterness to shout; "Shoot
the ole jackassl Look at the glrly
curlsl Say, bub, where'd you steal
your mothers ole SASH"
"Your sister stole 1t for me !" George
instantly replied, checking the pony.
"She stole 1t of our clo'esllne an gave
it to me-"
"You 90 get your hair cut" said
the stranger hotly. "Yahl l haven't