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A Family Affair

A Family Affair image
Parent Issue
Day
13
Month
July
Year
1888
Copyright
Public Domain
OCR Text

" 'ell, they ram this and that !nto the empty cases So do I. Saltpcter - I at'u Sulphnr -Greek. Charooal - uistory. Balls of co'ored iirn varioiis in'orniat on I rum and ra-n. The eae is fn 1 and in plac . The examin er rapliea the match and lo ks for the resul t Then - " They burst in the wrong place," said lieatric slyly. She uas amused. "Yes m ny of thom - burst and scatter the unburncd charge t the wind.s in a ludicrous inanner. Some, of course. fly straight and only come down like sticks aftor fulilling their ap o nted tti.sks " "Mt boiiio racoeed 1 ke yorelf," said HoraceMy di ar Horace! ' Frank feil into the Christian name arrangement with the greatest easc. 'The more I soe of undcrgradua'es tlui hunibler I grow. I was successfiil but if my i ompet tors were like those I coach ita nothing to b proud of." "Yet rour learning brings these pupils toyou." "Not a bit of it. I have a knack of bringing dull fellows on. that's all."' 'And perhaps the reason why aou get all the dull fellows," said Beatrice. There's something in that,'" said Carruthers laughing. "You rea 1 Latin. ' said Frank, sudJenly turning to Beatrice. "Yes. How could you teil?" He laughed and gave her one of his quick glaones. 'There is a little line between your brows- a very little one. Young ladies always knit their brows when they study hard. Latin for a lady is hard study." "Uther things beside study bring lines," said Beatrice. rather coldly. "Yes -trouble. But you can have had none. Pride may brin? them You are proud, but not severely proud. So 1 am right. Certainly this young man was presuming. Beatrtce.half displeased, said nothing. "Won"t yon have some more champagne, Frank? ' said Horace poticing the young man declíned Whittaker's mate offer oí retilling hi3 glass "No, thank you. 1 drink very littlc; althongh your wine is enough 'to shake the slernness of an anchorite.1 " "That is Byron, is it not?" asked Herbert. "Byron misquoted," said Beatrce quitely í'rank gave heraquick glance. "Are you sure?" he said. "Certain. I looked it up last week. It is 'saintship' not 'sternness.'" "I looked it up some months ago. No; I rememb.r, I couldn't lind ihe book, so trusted to my memory. 1 was wrong it seems." "Honitr sometimes no!s," said Horace. Beatrice was looking lather inquisitively at Frank. "What did you want the qiotation íor?'1 she asked. 'For - something or another -I forget now. As soon as 1 am allowed to work my brain 111 try and romember." "Don t trouble- I knowr. I saw the misquotation last week." Frank shrugged his shoulders. "Of course you wrote the paper," cont'nued Beatrice. "You are provokingly acute, Miss Clauson." "What did Frank write?" asked Horace. Beatrice smiled. She feit she was now goine to take her revenge íor Mr. Carrnthers's remark about the Latin. "That paper in the 'Latterday Rev'ew' on lamlowners' responsibilities," she said denmrely. "Nonsense. Beatrice! Frank couldn't have written that 1) d you?" continued Horace, more doubtlully, seeing his guest manifested no horror at the accusation. "Young ladies should not read the 'Latterday1," said Frank. "Anonymoii8 writers should not mUquote," retorted Beatrice. "But did you writo it, Frank?" asked Herbert The two brothers looked the picture oí anxiety. Frank laughed. "Miss Clauson is horribly acute," he said. Therefore all understood that Mr. Carruthers was the author of the article in question. an article. which from the bold and original views it ventilated, had attracted a gooct deal of attention. Horace and Herbert looked aghast "Frank," said the former in a solemn voice, "you raust be a radical." "You must," said Herbert sorrowfully. "Oh, dear, no," said the culprit. "l'm not - are you, Horace'" The utter absurdity of the question made theni all laugh. Horaco and Herbert thanked heaven they were not radicáis. "But there are respeclable radicáis, are thero not?" asked Frank innocent ly. "A few," said Horace. Sad as the truth was he was obliged to c nfess that there were one or two radicáis of his acquaintance whose social position raised them above consideration of their political creed. It was a fault in what was otherwise a fairly well-organized world. It was a satisfaction to ha o Frank's word that he was not a radical and they told him so gravely. "I fancy Mr. ( arruthers is a communist," said Beatrice mischievously. "Then my expressod opinión of your shrewdness sutlers "But what are your views, Frank?" asked Hor ace. "I have none in particular. I ain willing to be guided by the best authorities- yourself; for instance Teil me why you hale radicáis so? ' '"They are Koun-Englsh." "Ah. Then I detest them. Now you know what I am. I am Knglish. Are you English, Horace? ' They told him solemnly they hoped and believed they were English to the backbone; but they told themselves they were Englishmen with insular excrescences rubbed oft" by foreign travel. "Yes," said Frank, "it"s a great thing to be Englisb. Few people reahze what it means. 1 do most thoroughly." 'That's right," said Horace. ín spite of the landowner article he was growing quite easy about his guest. "1 would pass a law," said Frank gravely, "making it penal for an Englishman to learn a word of a foreig tongue. Every time an English chile cODjugates a French or Germán verb he retareis the millennium.'1 "The millennium!" said Beatrice, as tonished. "Yes- noy idea of the millennium - which is when the whole civilized worl speaks English. If we could oaly con verse in our own tongue, every nation would be forecel to learn it and so hast en the happy day. Wherever the English language gets a good footing, i conquers.' "üi cour.se you speak only your own language? " said Beatrice. Sjhèwasno getting quite íd erested. "in niy ignorance of what was righ I learned one or two others. 1 am try ing to forget them. but I can"t do so." 'Well, in what other way would you show your patriotüm? ' asked Horace, who was amnsed. "I would cling to evory bit of foreign and wo acquired, whether gained by rorcc, f raud, purchase or diseovery. I wouldn t tlrnk whether it paid to keep it or not. It must benefit the original owners to become Anglicized; and whatevcr place it is, it is sure to coma n useful sorac day."' Xo wonder you hate radicáis," said Herbert, approvingly. Well. what olse?" askel Beatrice. Se had been for the most part addressug his remarks to her, so she had the right to ask. "Lots more. lint, as you are a!so Rnglisb, let me ask yo i a qnestion. 'oesu't it sometimei jar upon your jridt; to tliink that we are obligüil to inno:ut ancient full blooded Uerma;is as our kings and queens? Hovv muuh agttah blood bas the princc in his veins?'1 Tbat was a rery startliug qneslton. Di i Talbcrts im edi&tely bogan to run lown tho royal iamily-tree. Frank took a pieco of bread. Vil show you by au illu-tration " he sa'd. "You 11 be frightened. Here's au es ih! First ' he pointed to the read. "Here is his daughter -ophia," ie cut the bread in half "Here's oorgo t e First,'" he cut the bread a r. in. "Utres (ieorge the tecond," cutti ig again. "Here's (ieorge the l'hird." ciittingagain. "FereKtlward )wke of Kout," etitt ng aga:n "ilere's ha Qoeeo, td bless her." cutting an n. "Here's Albert Kdward. lleavoa reserve him: ' IIp cut the bread for 1k last time and st ck:ng the tnv morel that rem a i ned on a íork, gravely ïanded it to üeatrice. 'U's a mortilying state of things, sn't t?' he asktül, for those who are o Knglish as ourselves? íon"t you siujalhie with theJacobtes, Mi-s C'lauson?" "1 Ihink yoa are talking rank treason " said Ut atree. She scarcely knew whether lic was in jest or earnest. Perïaps he ilidn't kn w himself. The dinner prop. r was just over W )ntt:ikc," c.'iTüeiu w.ththecnimh brnsh ind swept away .'am's the First and ii ■ descendants throngh the female :de. A s soon as the wine was placed n tho table the door was opened and teatrice 8 little boy trottad into the oom He was allowed to make his appearance for a few minutes at this ime whenever there was any company. 'heTalberts, remembering their theory, ut u their eye-glasses to note the paernal instinct their guestmiglit display. "Halloo," he cried, "another pleasant surprise.' No doubt he meant to mply that Miss lauson's presence at iazlewood House was the tirst. 'Now, who is this? ' he asked as the oy rah to Keatrice's side. "Will he ome to me? I am really fond of children.' Temptod by the irresistible brbe of eTa es the boy trotted round he table. Krank picked him up, kisspd ïim, tiekled him, stroked his golden ïair, and admired him greatly, bat howed none of those emotions which he Talberts iniagined they would dect In faet, the way in which he met he boy removed their base su picious ntirely. They were glad of this, alhough it plunged them back into darkness. They feit friendlily disposed ;oward their cousin, and were glad to e able to think him as honorable a man as theniselves. Probably, they never really doubted this. So in reply to his question as to vhose child this merry, laughing boy was, they told him the history oí his appearance. and how Beatrice had egged that he inight. be kept at Hazle - wood House, "I don't wonder at it," said Frank. -I wish some one wotild send me another just like huí." Beatriee gave him a look of gratitude. 2yery word that contirmed her in posession of the child was welcome to her. uhe had not yet looked at Mr. Carruthers in any way which carried emotion with it. Her glanco was a revelation. Till then he had no idea of what dark (ray eyes could express. CHAPTER XI. "morbid's thk word!" 'i'hanks to the remarkably line air ot Oakbury, and to an absolute cessation of anything like hard work. Mr. Carruthers soon lost his jaded appearance. At the end of ten days he declared himself to be in rude health, and his looks dd not bolie his words. Certainly those worthy housewives, his cousins, had taken great care of him. In less than a week Frank had taken the measure of his cousins - his male cousins, at least. But Beatrice was auother matter. They had seen a great deal of one another dnring the last week. Frank was not a man who loved twenty-mile walks, or cared to rush from one end of the county to another to loot at a rock or a waterfall. His idea of a holiday he summed up in the word "loafing!'' "A good loafer is a great rarity," he told Miss Clauson. "Loaïng proper is an art which cannot be acquired. I have met with many spurious imitations, but the real article is hard to find. Show me the man who can spend a whole day like this, and you show rae one who can get very near to happiness." "Like this," meant lying on his back as desTiöed. "butyoudosomething - yousmoke,'' said Beatriee. "Yes, for the sake of appearances. In these days of hard work a man musn t be absolutely idle." Yet she looked and spoke gravely. "You wrong yourself talkingsueh nonsense, Mr. Carruthers." He raised himself on his elbow. "I I don't talk nonsense. I am speaking of ! my idea of enjoying a holiday. When I work it is another matter. I trust I work to tbe best of my ability. When i 1 idle, I idle to the best of my ability." j 'Your idea of human happiness is a humble one." "Is it? ' Then give me vouw in exchange.'' Beatrice was silent. She even turned her head iway. "Well, I am waiting for the definition." There was no trace of leyity in Frank's voice as he spoke. His manmer was as serious as her own. "I have none to give,"' said Beatrice. "None -at your age! Are your dreams all gone? Young ladies do dream. I believe. They dream of being queens of society; of raarrying rich men; if they are romantic, of marrylng j poor men; they dream of a life of religión- of having a mission to perform. Which is your particular dream? ' "I have none," she said coldly. "You must dream. You are sleeping now, and all sleepers dream at times. Only in this wide-awake, bustling world do people forget their dreams. They work on and on, and to some the day comes on which one of their old dreams is realized. Alas, by that time they have almost forgotten that they ever dreamed it. or they find it realized too late." Beatrice sat silent with her eyes cast down. "Ferhaps I have not guessed the right dream for you,"' continued Carruthers. "I forgot you were such a learned young lady. Your dream may be the fanie of the scholar or the writer," "I have no dreams." she repeated. He looked her fnll in the face. "Can you say also, 'I have had not dreams?' " "Not even of rank riches, f ame, power." he said in a lighter tone. "Miss Clauson, you are incomprehensible." She cho3e to turn the subject. "1 am gome, to the village now," she said. "With your permistión I will accom■ pany you." , [TO BS CÜ-NTlSLtU.)

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Subjects
Old News
Ann Arbor Democrat