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intS 8 *? 11 Eryc , coald not repress an exclamation
££STS?Sf *u the beaut Y <« the grounds, which.
S y here and ‘here with evergreens of
seemed a v eij paradise of green
S<J h L h * r r eD 2 esa a „ nd sterihty of winter. But
0t the SCener 5 r W »S put out of
the st °PP ln g of the carnage at the gate
a PPf^ cb ?[ an oM gentleman who
expecting them, and who proved to
ilTit „ r himself. Cane in hand, which, ho w-
shfnth evid t n ‘ he carried more for compan-
gup than for any help it afforded him, for he flour-
{?,„** ^‘her than walked with it, he advanced with
"h”“ ho* hearty hospitality to meet them. He was
something under the medium height in stature, and
301 ™ . tended to embonpoint, and his face
TOsofthat niddy, sanguine hue, which come no
, v from perfect health than from a certain predi
ction which men of wealth and genial disposition
a , re apt to have for indulging in the convivialities
of the social glass.
‘And so you have come at last, have you ?, he
said as he drew near and stood beside the carriage;
it is not your habit, Mr. Delamere, to t>e behind
hand, but we have been expecting you for an horn-
at least this morning. 7
By this time the party in the carriage had alight
ed and Mr. Delamere replied:
‘I must confess we arc a little late. But let me pre
sent to you Mr. Ethmer, my nephew, Eryc Dela-
mere, or whom, ere now, you have heard me sneak 7
1 on are welcome here, sir, 7 said the old gentle-
man advancing and shaking Eryc warnilv by the
A a mV.e I fi kneW J T Ur fatber * s ? r - a fine man.
ttle fiery perhaps, but with as generous a heart
as ever beat. Fine brain too, sir. *
Eryc made some apposite reply and they moved
on towai d the house. This was a line mansion of
ter ■l 0r, hut ' f V s , El '- vc e,1 tered, he noticed
nnd l nllf S raitlU ’ e r a i s ” dand somew hat time-worn
ed'hi™ I J 8 Very fash » onab J emak e- This occasion-
nresent lin S tT PI i 1Se “ ha<1 been lnf °rmed that his
present host had not been married until late in life
and that his wife had died some fifteen years ago’
2?™!5 e 1 “ C0Dg ^ lty . ofafine hoow, and indifferent
furniture he rather imputed to the well-known ec-
ZTT y .° f ! h ° ° Id g e,ltlelnan than to his lack of
domestic taste or to the indifference about such
matters of his charming daughter. As soon as they
bad entered the old gentleman, who seemed in his
t!> F,' ve’l'lT i U ,° US v' aJ i , r ° lmTO “ken finite a fancy
. • •' ? seized him by the aian, and, having ushered
ti e left t and J Unt ? nd Miss Devon into a room on
!, n,e<1 1 '' Ith the young man, and entered
common-place expressions of sympathy would be
altogether useless. Finally he said:
‘I thought that there was a fine piece of property
somewhere in this state for you as soon as you be
came of age.’
‘There was once,’ returned Eryc. but it has been
lost some time now, and one hundred dollars and
odd cents here in my pocket is the sum of all my
possessions, except a change of clothes and a few
old musty books.’
There was a thoughtful pause on Mr. HTlmot’s
part, and then laying his hand on Eryc’s shoulder
he said:
‘I will make you a proposition, Eryc. Come and
live with me until something better turns up.’
‘However pleasant such a thing might be,’ return
ed Eryc smiling, ‘it is absurd and ridiculo'is, but
—iry generous and characteristic of you, Harry. ’
‘what is characteristic ? the absurdity of" the
thing ?’
‘No; of course I meant the other.’
ro ^“ t fl 0 ‘ harigh ‘.. “™g, ‘Let me introduce you.
The apartment m which Ervc now found himself
contamed some twelve or fifteen pereons, some of
v horn w ere seated near a bright, cheerful fire,while
others were gathered around a large piano where
sat a } oung girl who had apparently just ceased
play mg. As is usual on such occasions, there was
t»^T e f n ii ary UU ,n the conve rsation at the eu-
wa- „f if- th D f w ^ c onier, and many turned to get a
look at him. And indeed he was well worthy the
glances leveled at him, if grace, dignity and manly
beauty are ever worthy of passing notice and there
was something of sadness in his face which S
hnn a distinguished air that needs but to be seen to
be felt and appreciated.
nor to however, looked neither to the right
maimer ’ ‘ lna ldunt aild unceremonious
hif,' n -rr t h o seemed to . 1)0 natural to him, drew
•vi i g t u. the *V OU, l? P rl at the P ia no and said:
My daughter, Mr. Delamere.’
Eryc bowed to Miss Ethmer who had risen from
utationf at US ap i )roac i ’ and now returned his sai-
Mr. Ethmer, having further presented him to the
group who had gathered around his daughter said
more familiarly:
‘Diana, this is Mr Dolamere’s nephew—Corinne’s
cousin,—and, as he is the only stranger in the house
to-day, I put him under your especial care ’ and
away he went as abruptly as he had come-
Eryc inferred from the old gentleman’s parting
information to bis daughter that he was Corinne’s
cousin, that lie would merit more favors from this
simple fact than, as a stranger, he could ever ex
pect to receive, and when he looked at her his
‘But you haven’t heard me out yet,’ continued
Mr. H'ilmot. ‘My respected father, to whom be all
jraise, has recently, judging me to be of bucolic
1 emperament, settled me only a few miles from here
on one of his places, which henceforth is to be mine
if I do well during this, the period of my probation.
He says I am getting too old—twenty-four last
montli,—to be straying around loose, and so, like
the fellow in the parable. 1 have taken all my sub
stance and come into this far country here, and like
him furthermore, I am very apt to run through
with every thing unle-s some more prudent hand
guide me and hold the purse strings for a while. ’
‘ 11 hy iny dear friend ’
‘Oh, hold on, won’t you V I am going to the bad
fast. You must come and stay with me as an act
of charity.’
Eryc laughed, and scrutinizing with minuteness
the countenance of his friend, replied.
‘That is a very sad confession, Harry, and now.
since I look at you closely, I see you have been
drinking. ’
Yes, I liave taken a swallow of the wine that
perisheth,’ said Mr. H'ilmot. ‘I always do when I
go out, or lose at cards and 1 have done both to
day. It steadies my nerves, you know, and makes
me forget.’
Knowing that his friend, even while a student at
college, had indulged in the ]ierishable fluid above
mentioned, Eryc said nothing, and Harry H'ilmot,
observing his silence, continued by way of explana
tion:
of an improbablejation. 'But come,’he added,
‘I know you are 4; let’s go in.’
So saying Mr. fcot arose and followed by his
friend went baelfo the parlor, the latter, no
doubt, much wiapd better informed than when
he left. In faet c was disappointed and ren
dered somewhat by the disclosure he had just
heard. But th Ation was but momentary, and
he soon threv J • and entered with relish into
the festivities’ 68 '!. *casion.
As been ten* cur Inn which he had just left, he
unconaciouing up ut amid the crowd, the form
of Miss Etoin his pt'as in another part of the
parlor nowv j ndgi sl de was the man—Colonel
Fenton—cot5 traot ”iom he had just received so
dubious an »Aj . e m Harry Ivilmot. He was
_ ' (Jated manner and she seem
ed to be listo 3 on ** a great deal of pleasure and
attention. B'P ea , c aid not aspire to anything
more than a f “f acquaintance with her, this
gave him no sfl&t concern, and Harry, having
spied Mr. Glenyseated in a far corner, and talk
ing with Miss m palled him in that direction
and introduce*fj). Having done this, Mr. mi-
mot, with an a'j ^?nded to lie very formal and
polite gave hL- ftV{ o the young lady, and, with a
muttered reii(i/” \*out the room being close and
crowded, led hi' a< ay. There was certainly noth
ing very peculi* 1 the action but Eryc fancied
that, as his acquaintance gazed after them,
there was a snor peculiar meaning lurking about
his lips. ThiVievadily accounted for by suppos
ing there wasxJit private understanding between
him and Mission, or that, inasmuch as she had
come from tb j 0 ie of Corinne, she had obtained
and impartectc*.
his lady love ®
u
it
a 00
Yer
m some pleasing information of
be Continual. J
FOlft YEARS AGO.”
Til tell you how it came about, Eryc.
ud while there
Not long
ago I was in the city of Memphis, and while there
I got into difficulty one night. 1 haven’t time to
explain now but I will some other time' There
were three men against me, and 1 suppose they
would have made quick work with me, hud not Col
onel Fenton, who had never seeu ine before, oome
to my rescue. As we had not yet come to blows or
shooting, my three assailants, seeing me reinforced,
backed down."
DRIFTIIf S/*VDS FRCM THE MOUN
TAIN P ‘ Yo FOOT-HILLS OF
happjST GEORGIA.
ciancho
A I»rill 3ce .Pt a ainnce ituwd npoii Facts.
£$,$.><. W.W0S.
paler by i
cousin rose somev. hat higher in his estinf < ion than
she had ever been previous to DiatvnoC “
iiect, at tliis nleeting some .ail. pl\)J; haughty
beauty flashing'in diamonds and cold of heart, but
the appearance of the young creature before whom
he now found himself was totally different, and,
combined with the abrupt introduction and depart
ure of Mr. Ethmer, was enough to make the heart
of any one less at his ease than was Eryc, quicken
its accustomed regular beating. Her form, as she
stood before him, was full in its outlines and grace
ful, and, though slightly under the usual size of
women, possessed all the ease and dignity of move
ment which might have been expected of a slender
figure and a greater height. Her complexion of
peachy bloom, her hair, clustering in masses of rich
auburn about her head, with eyes of sparkling gray
and a mouth of most bewitching sweetness around
which hovered ever a pensive expression relieved
agreeably by a constantly recurring smile, formed
in Eryc’s young imagination, a modem Hebe on
the altar of whose loveliness all men might offer in
cense. He had scarcely passed through with the
formalities consequent upon introduction when a
young gentleman, who had iieen seated in another
part of the room, arose, and with no little astonish
ment depicted upon his countenance, advanced,
and laying a hand upon his shoulder to attract his
attention, said:
‘By all that is marvelous, Eryc, where did you
drop from V
Eryc recognized in the speaker an old friend and
classmate of his college days—Harry Wilruot. The
cordiality with which two classmates meet in after
life, even though there had been no particular
friendship between them in other days, every one
has seen. And now ‘‘a stranger in a strange land,”
the warmth with which Eryc grasped the hand of
his friend was all the more genuine and sincere.
‘Tableau !’ whispered to Miss Ethmer a youth of
about twenty years of age who had been introduced
as Mr. Stacy to Eryc, referring to the attitude of
the latter and of Harry Wilmot who had, after the
first surprise of the meeting was over, stood with
clasped bands. Miss Ethmer smiled more at the
quaint humor of the remark than at the little scene
it was intended to dramatize and Harry, having
overheard the expression, suddenly bethought him-
seif and said familiarly to her:
•Excuse us, Di; this is an old friend of mine, and
I must see him alone for a while - ’
Di, of course, Eryc understood as the pet or fam
iliar name and abbreviation for Diana, but what
right his friend had to apply it to her lie could not
fathom: so he regarded him with a species of ad
miring astonishment while he took his ami and was
led by him from the apartment out upon a broad,
open verandah in front,
‘My dear old fellow,’ said Mr. Wilmot warmly*
placing two chairs upon which they seated them-
telves. ‘I am overjoyed to see you, but how came
you in this part of the worid ?’
‘You are the same irrepressible genius you always
were, Harry,’ returned Eryc smiling at the ardor
of his companion; but I can hardly answer your'
question in one breath.!
‘ Where did you come from then?’ asked Harry
Wilmot.
‘From my uncle’s.’
‘Didn’t know you had an uncle about here,’ said
Harry.
‘You have surely heard of Mr. Jasper Delamere,’
said Eryc.
‘Great heavens !’ exclaimed Mr. Wilmot striking
forcibly in bis surprise, upon the arm of his chair
with his clenched fist. ‘I never knew or dreamed
vou were related to the old gentleman, else I would
Rave found out from him your whereabouts and
have written to you. Strange, too, that the ident
ity of the names never struck me. Well, I do
swear !’ and with the last remark as expressive of
the emotion then uppermost in his mind, Mr. Wil-
mot speculated darkly upon his singular obtuse
ness.
‘You seem to be very much at home and at ease
here,’ remarked Eryc.
‘ H ell, so I am,’ returned Harry, ‘by virtue of my
relationship. 1 was always of that disposition
though. But did any of tne rest of your uncle’s
family come with you ?’
‘Yes, ’ returned Eryc, They are all here. But why
do you ask ?’
‘Oh, nothing at all. How long will you remain
at your uncle’s ?’ *~*~*
‘Only a short time, I suppose. I am on my way
now to join a Mr. Barnes ’
‘And who the devil is Mr, Barnes ?’ interrupted
Mr. Wilmot.
‘Give me time and I will tell you,’said Eryc; and
then he told Harry the circumstances under which
he was situated- When he had finished, the latter
paused) awhile before replying, for he felt that the
‘Let me interrupt you a moment,’ said Eryc, ‘by
asking who is Colonel Fenton ?’
He is that shaggy, dark-browed devil who was
sitting on your right just before I found you with
in. He has a winning, insinuating way about him
that makes you take to him immediately. But
damn it, there is something else about him that I
can’t quite understand.’
‘I saw nothing remarkable about him during the
short time I was in his company,’ said Eryo.
Mr. Wilmot shrugged his shoulders thoughtfully
in the manner of one who has something in reserve,
and then asked suddenly:
‘Have you ever seen the Old Man of the Sea,
Eryc ?’
‘Not that I remember just now,’ returned Eryc
with a laugh.
‘Look on Colonel Fenton then, and you will see
him,’ said Harry significantly.
Eyrie gave Ills friend a stare of inquiry which
elicited from him the following reply:
‘Of course after he befriended me at so critical a
time, I desired to see and know more of him and ac
cordingly, I gave him an invitation to come to s
me and he accepted. Now mark the result. H
m>nn£<i„with me sometime, drew my mln^j
it'possible I slioulR sjBd^rtldly cni^vi**»jj a I
and has plenty of money, anA boarus j —
best hotel in town. The hints he has dropped
duce the impression that he is a gentleman of wealth,
and has several large estates in the est Indies,
and may the devil eat me, if he does not live a gay
life. Has fine wines and horses world without end,
and I am never in town but what he presses me to
have a round with him. Moreover he is coiistant-
ly here and everywhere else where there is any
amusement or gathering. But how do you like my
cousin, Diana—Miss Ethmer ? You were with her
when I found you.’
Ervc was not before aware of this relationship
between his friend and the young lady in Question,
and readily divining it to be the secret of his inti
macy with her, he replied not without a certain de
gree of reserve:
‘She is certainly very lieautiful—perhaps more
beautiful than any one of her sex I have ever seeu
before^ ^ y 0U so ,’ said Harry;* it is impos
sible for you to think otherwise when you come to
tnmriisrvAll Rut let us co in again. I should
bat is the IAPTER XV.
Notwi* percept, the severe tests to which the
unfortni donor ®]ers had been put during the
first mea-li and s'ith the Ramsay family, it had
ended m Slnchtsantly than expected, and con
vinced tt gua&nt their newly made friends,
though rback' 1( j eocentric, were generons and
attentive^.. .ngers. And although there were
several thin£#onneoted with the various mem
bers of the fatily which were hard to under
stand, some of their oharaoteristics showed that
with proper estivation they might have been
among the m^t useful members of society.
Their general ignoranoe in the midst of such
bountiful profision of almost everything calcu
lated to make them prosperous and happy, was
a matter for serious thought, and went far to
show the importance of a careful consideration
of the wants of the mind, as well as those of the
body.
Ramsay’s farm and all its surroundings gave
abundant evidence of continued industry; but
bis mind was so benighted that his desires were
but little more than those of the oxen wbioh
plowed his fields. His table, loaded with good
things, showed that much had been done to pro
vide for the bidy; but the rude manners of him
self and famiy aronnd it, revealed the fact that
their aspirat
* those which 1 ’*
™$>nd dream
and he i„
he i„ ^ o»^ r un Oi
-!_-ef'' h.
'met; 0 */®, {but n<
: j .flu. . ..u;
have met with snob a mia r ertnne as the lose of
our hones. But what does mamma and Julius
say to our visiting Reville’s house?,
‘For my part,* thoughtfully said Julius, ‘I am
perhaps more anxious to go than any one pres
ent I think there are good reasons why I
should be so. All except myself have seen and
convened with this interesting character. I
have only heard of him, and that in such a way
as to greatly excite my curiosity. His care to
avoid me while visiting at yonr house, and the
siight evidenoe he gave of the knowledge of my
existence by asking Nelly if she had ever seen
any one who closely resembled her, as well as
in other ways, does not only exoite my curiosi
ty, bnt also leads me to doubt the propriety of
going to his honse, however much I may desire
to do so. Under these eircnmstances.however,
my anxiety to see him overcomes my scruples. ’
‘I see no impropriety in our paying a visit to
Prince Reville, ‘ rai l Mrs. Montgomery. ‘Indeed,
I have often thongtat ’
A heavy footstep at the door and the strident
voice of Mr. Ibunsay interrupted her.
‘Why,* said he ‘you‘uns is all huddled up to
gether tbar like a passil of patridges in cole
weather. Is that book you’ve got sich a power
ful thing that you all git ’round it like the ole
ooman‘s tur'reys does round abaskitof corn. It’s
long ago made fools oaten Dimpsy and Hepsy;
bnt it can't budge Mazln Grace an' Rislum, I
tell you. They're too sharp to fool their time
away with it. " Tbo Eibul and Hyme book’s
enough for me or any body else to read in. I've
done my duty, me and Peggy has, to lara our
children so; but several year ago thar was a
young chap what come round here au’ said he
wanted to teach school. I tola him ’twas all
stuff and nonsense; but be could talk faster than
a cricket can holler, and put Dimps and Heps
in a notion that they must lam too. I 'suaded
’em awhil9, an' 1 than scolded ’em awhile ‘bout
havip' sich notions; bat they kept on a beggin 1 ,
ontii I, ole fool like,gin my consent to let ’em go
to the feller's school. So they put on their long
yeered bonnita, an' went two or three months,
an'then come back home a talkin' sich big
words that nobody on yeth could nnderstnc'
and puttin'on sich high falntin manners, an,
sichafixin' up things as you never did see.
They even got to making their frocks earns
from their mam's an' wearing little whiteaperns
all scollupt round the sides. I tole !em if they
didn't have manners like me and their mammy,
an' Mazin Graoe, an' Rislum, they must stop
gwiue to sohooL ‘
‘I hope,'said Mr. Montgomery, ‘you did not
stop them?'
Nop replied Ramsay, ‘but I come mighty
nigb on to it They kep‘ on a beggin' till I
give in agin, an' the next thing I heered they
wanted a readin' book jest like thar was no Bi-
bul to read in. I could't stan' that but the
fool teaoher went an ‘ got ’em readin' books all
full of po’try an' sich like, an' I thunk that
wouid be the last of it, but it wasn’t. They soon
wanted a dick-shinery what larnt them how to
‘jplain an' call their big words. Thinks I, ef
he's got ’em readin' books, he might git ’em a
dick-shinery too; an' shore enough he did; an*
of all spellin' and givin’ out words, an' sayin'
over their meanings of as you ever heard. I
begun to think everything in creation was
agwine to be explained, an so I axed ’em ef
John’s daddy was Bob's son, what akin was
John to Bob? Thar I got ’em, I did; an' they
had to git oaten it by saying it wasn’t in the
dick-shinery. An' that's the way these learned
folks do every time you fetch 'em up to the tug
pin with a real sensible question. I thought the
>ns were but little higher than
(voh their limits in savage life,
5 (going further.
^ —*r.;a-0.v5ffy." -c fmit trees I '^k-shinery business was agwine to be the last
'they g . .tanusym- '' cor.SE.rn, bat it fc by a
*■ —’—to know the curriculum Mr.
neither guide aor stay was pro
vide 0 *? 8! ie phildren. They grew as their in-
clinafcl 1 ® nA e^them, and, so far as their parents
were to d > catiDg and drinking marked
the boui P fg ^ines of their ambition. With each
recurringAer 311 1* 10 °* d man a,9 ° planted g Ta P e
vines, and Hio|h his own hands oarefully trained
know her w r ell. But let us go in again.
not have kept you so long.’ ....
‘One question first,’ said Eryc, ‘who is that young
gentlemen I saw just as I entered the parlor who
was standing up and talking to a tall young lady
by the window? Is he a brother to Col. Fenton?
•That was Glenville, I must make you acquainted
with him. He is to be married to your cousin
^Indeed!’ exclaimed Eryc, ‘that is nevvs to me
But I asked about him because I thought him a
brother to your gay West Indian.’
‘Pooh ! all in your imagination man. If I had to
pick out from among all mankind a perfect man I
would take Geoffrey Glenville, and, without bemg
impertinent, I may say that your cousin is none
too good for him. ’
Eryc looked curiously at his friend for a moment
without replying. It is true he knew not what
change might have passed over his cousin s dispo
sition since he left her more than half a score of
years ago. He only remembered her as a little
maiden of elfish face and frail physioue, full of ca
prices which must be carried out and actively en
tered Into by all around her, or else they incurred
her severe displeasure. This of course, he thought,
was to be expected of an only child of indulgent
IJ *And what parents of an only child ever yet
thought they did wrong to indulge it? It was not
not pleasant to Eryc thus to have plainly sigmfied
to him the unworthiness of his former little play
mate for a man whom he had never seen before; so
he made no reply, but continued to e»ze at Mr.
H’ilmot as if for some explanation of his singular
assertions. And that young gentleman according-
* 7 ‘Youno doubt consider it strange that I should
speak so of a woman, but you will not tlunk so al
ways, nor even a month from now, perhaps. But
what I meant to say was this, that your cousm
plays with Glenville’s heart as she would with a
fish she had hooked, and one of the strangest things
I ever knew is that he loves her or permits her to
d0 ‘You think he loves her then?’ demanded Eryc.
‘No doubt of it,’ replied Mr. Wilmot, or if he
does not he is one of the deepest hypocrites I ever
saw. In short, to express my sentiments. I some
times think he is either a fool or a hypocrite-a fool
if he loves her, and a hypocrite if he does not, for
he has strongly induced her to beheve that she's
all the world to him. Do you know that they are
to be married in the spring—in March?
‘I know nothing beyond what you have told me,
•T^eilfthatts the report, and Geoffrey is of Jhat im
pression, but it will be put off again. Mark my
words. She has put him off three tunes already,
and she will not hesitate to do itagain on the slight
est pretext; or, if she cannot find an excuse, she
will do it for the sole purpose of showing her pow
er over him. I am doing this to put you on your
guard against her for she will flirt with you before
she has been home two weeks.’
‘I hardly think that probable or even possible,
returned Eryc with a quiet but pecuhar smile
‘She will either flirt with you or do its equivo-
lent,’continued Harry, ‘she will go around andtell
some twenty or thirty confidential fnends, so-call
ed that she did, and you will never have an oppor
tunity for refuting the slander, for they will never
st>eak to you about it, but will only look at you in
^pitying kind of way that would drive you mad
in an instant if you could but know their thoughts.
And Harry laughed gleefully as if, in prospect, he
saw au imaginary Eryc Ichafing under the reports
them to twiipi their tendrils at proper places;
bnt the miilds of his children were seldom
trained to tvtne the tendrils of the heart around
such objeots’aa they might under all circum
stances, ding in safety, and procure fruits
worthy the immortal destiny to which parents
should direct those who have been committed to
their keeping, and who are made by parental
influence, even to an unknown extent, a bless
ing or a curse to themselves and country.
When Hepsy and Dimpsy conducted the trav
elers to the room which they had left they fonnd
it brightly lighted. The striped flower-pot had
been placed in a distant part of the room, and a
huge pine-knot was blazing in the fire-place
Nelly's quick eye soon discovered a small vol
ume lying on a table near by. She picked it np
and found to her surprise that it was ‘Watts’ Im
provement of the Mind,’ and she wondered if
suoh a book bad any readers in the Ramsay fam
ily. But if they were astonished to find such a
book in such a place, they were Btrnck with
wonder and amazement when they discoverep
on the fly-leaf opposite, in a bold, round hand,
the name ot Prince Reville, the mysterious
friend of whom they had heard very strange
things. This led to a farther examination of the
the book, and on another page was written in
the same bold and elegant hand, the following
inscription.
“In consideration of her many good qualities in school,
this little volume is
KESl'KCTl ULLV I'lSKSENTED.
TO
MISS DRUSILLA RAMSAY;
By Her Teacher,
1'liINCE RBY-ILLE.”
‘And so,’ said Mr. Montgomery, thoughtfully,
‘our mysterious friend is known to this family,
if indeed Drnsilla be a member of it, and I sup
pose she is. It may be that this little book has
opened the way for ns to learn something we do
not know of Mr. Reville's history. But any rate
no harm is likely to oome of asking Mr. Ramsay
about him.'
•I should think not,’ said Nelly. ‘And by the
way,’ she continued after a pause, ‘I heard Miss
Hepsy call Dimpsy by the name of Drnsilla sev
eral times to-night, and I am satisfied that they
are one and the same person. If this bs true, I
will ask Miss Dimpsy to tell me all she knows
of this oonsiderate teacher of hers.’
Tt is evident,’ replied her father, ‘that the
Misses Dimpsy and Hepsy have had educational
advantages, which is additional proof that yon
are right, Nelly; bnt let ns investigate the mat
ter cautiously, for I would not have Mr. Reville
know that we are Becking to trace his steps, even
accidentally. By so doing we might uninten
tionally wound his feelings, Mid place him on
guard where he might otherwise not be. ’
•O father,’ said Nelly, ‘you may certainly trust
me in this particular; for since yonr revelations
to me concerning your first interview with Mr.
Reville, I have been convinced that he knows
something about my own mysterious history. ’
Nelly bad seldom spoken of her unknown his
tory in the presenee of her parents, and her
father, wishing to divert her mind from the sub-
jeot quickly replied:
•I know, my darling ohild. that there is no
danger of you disobeying me. Suppose then
that we extend our journey as far as his honse,
where I am sure all will feel satisfied, at least
for two or three days.’
•O,' cried Nelly, ‘that is just to my liking. I
imagine we will find more romance in real life
while thus sojourning in the country than if we
were to ooutinue oar travels to the extent first
thought ot I feel eertain this is true of our
idratarn this afternoon, though I am sorry we
was anxious
vill's school. *
‘Why, don‘t you think, ‘ answered Ramsay,
nervously, ‘that when the teacher seed I was not
agwine to give in to all his tomfoolery 'bout
books, he went and got the geerb a bran' new
jogtiff'y a piece. It had lots of picters in it of
sich things as nobody ever did see. One of ’«m
was a great big ball like a pumpkin that they
tried to make me think was the worl' we live on,
that it wasn’t fiat like a pancake, but roan' like
a dumplin’; jest like I was a ole fool shore
enough to think that a feller wouldn’t tumble
off ef he happened to git on the nnder side, an'
the Lord-a-mighty don’t know whar he'd go to.
But I tell you the geerls couldn’t make the ole
boss believe it, an' it made me sorter mad to
think they’d try to fool their daddy, bekase of
what jogrifify said about it.’
‘And did the matter st ip there?’ asked Julius.
‘No sar-ree,’ answered Ramsey, a little soften
ed by the kind manner of the boy. ‘No sar-ree
it got wasser still. Tho’ they had aready got
enough a books to be bothersome to toat, an'
bankerrupt their daddy to boot, they still want
ed more.’
‘But Mr. Ramsay,’ said Mr. Montgomery, ‘I
understood yon to say that Mr. Reville, the
teacher, bought most of the books. ’
•Yes; I did; but I’d a had ’em to buy ef he
hadn’t,’ svid Ramsay, a little snappishly.
'Besides there was the time they was a taken
up with their foolishness and the stuff it was
puttin’ in their heads. Why I went to the school
house one day jes to see what they was np to,
and of all oarryin’s on you never heard. Dimpsy
and Heps pranced up when the teacher called
’em and went on with a long jumblement ot staff
as sliok as sop and tater, about how they loved
and he loved, a talkin to the teaoher, and how
they coaid and would and should love anyhow,
not mindin’ me any more’n ef I was a tom oat a
settin’ thar on the three legged bench and my
yaers a hornin' with shame for their forward
ness, I jes spoke my mind oat about it. And
the ill-mannered school ohillen sniggered and
the teaoher he said as how ‘twas graymer and
'twonld starch np their talk and make it soon’
proper. Bat it was no licknm spooners, fori
seed he was a tryin* to fool me, an’ have my
geerls a lovin’ him an' every body else. I jes’
took ’em home, an' here I inten' to keep 'em.
They took it orfnl hard, bnt I tole 'em yonng
folks thinks that ole folkes is fools, bnt old folks
knows young folks is the biggest fools in all
oreation. An* it's that way with Dimps and
Heps yit In spite of all I can do they keep on
a bein' monstrashiis fools 'boat lamin' an' sich
like ontll they've got the house all kivered over
with so many starch np things that yon can’t
tell what its made oaten. Then tney've got the
yard all fixt like chillen makin* playhouses,
an* sometimes they sweep it an' the kitohen
three or foar times a day, an' the big house too.
They even pat a spell on Rislam, an* he eat a
lady's pietnr in that ole gonrd a hangin' up
thar on the wall; but the spell didn't last long,
Vo., him an ’ Mazin Grace is too smart to take
up sioh flamications as the yonng teaoher larnt
their sisters.'
‘Mr. Ramsay,* said Mr. Montgomery after a
pause, ‘would you please tell ns the name of the
teaoher of whom yon have just spoken ?’
■Sartinly,’ said Ramsay, throwing his hat on
the floor and oroesing his legs. 'They call his
name Prinee Ravel, or soma sioh name as that
Folks say he's a monsns nioe and olnversome
feller, an* I speot I'd like him too ef he hadn' t
a made my darters my so mnoh love talk, an'
tnrned fools gin‘rally. All the scholars swore
by him. He’s got a mighty way of makin' folks
love him; bnt he don'thave herd work to do it,
for it looks like they take to it nsfrslly, an* he
takes to them wnst treats hiss with reepeotibil-
ity. Way, don’t yon think he sent both my
darters what went te his school, a book for a
Christmas holler-dav present, an' they some
times set up readin’ tne books so lets in the night
that I have to make 'em go to bed jsst Bke *
was little ohillen.'
‘All this,' mid Mr. Montgomery, Is mot
much for the teaoher, and I am glad In basil
his snooe88. I am sore be did not tsneh jn
daughters to be idle or disobedient'
'No, be didn’t’ admitted Mr. Ramsay. Th? k'
are more respeefnl to me and tbeir Si Mi the
even Mazin Grace and Rislam, and HI bat my
best steer on tbeir bein’ number one wnrken
No, that feller Ravel larnt 'em nothin* wrow
•cept turnin' their manners roan', an'fthnfool
way they've got 'bout books, slates, peasula
dickshineries’ jogriffya an’ graymers. Mazin
Graoe an’ Rislnm an' the chillen what art mar
ried an' gone, never thunk of sich things in all
tbeir born days. I tell you these schools is s
humbngetion.'
Julias had quietly waited until Mr. Ramsay
had his say ont on the subject of schools, now
he continued his questions, hoping togaiD some
information about the mysterious person that so
interested him.
•How long,' asked he, 'has it been since Mr.
Reville taught school in this community ?’
‘Yes, ‘ replied Ramsay. ‘That's it—that's it.
insted of Ravel. ‘Spose you seed his name in
the book thar's what made you know it. I'd a
mos‘ forgot his name, though ‘taint long sense
I seed him, but it's been more'n three years
sense he teaebt school here.’
‘Yes sir, 4 replied the boy. T find his name
written In the book, and I see he spells it Rev
ille. ‘
‘Then yon can spell an' read writin' can yon?'
‘Tolerably well. ‘
‘Sakes alive! you oughter see the yenng
teachor write. He can slap it down faster than
a gang of pigs can make tracks in a snow
storm.’
‘I see he writes well, and although he is a
stranger to me, I feel interested iu his history,
How long, Mr. Ramsay, has it been since you
saw him last?'
‘You ‘pear to be monsns 'qnisitive ‘bout a
stranger, ‘ said Mr. Ramsay.
‘I ask pardon for this seeming rudeness.
Though a stranger to me, Mr. Reville is the par
ticular friend of Mr. Montgomery and his fam
ily. I hope this explanation will excuse our
anxiety to hear from him. *
‘Yes,‘ said the old man, a little surprised.
•Yes;‘ in course It will excuse you. Ef you an'
the Montgomery gal aint no kin, you look
mighty like it; an' I ‘spose what one wants to
know tother wants to know. It's earns to me
that yoa'aus has seen th9 school teacher man,
though he's been mighty nigh onto ev'ry whar,
ai‘ a mos‘ ev'ry body's had his iutroduoementa.
And now, as some of you'uns know him, I mas'
answer your questions more perlitelier than
I did afore. Well, you see the youngster is a
pow'ful feller to hunt an' run through the woods
like a wile varmint. He can crack over a buck
a runniu' through a thioket iu full tilt jest about
as fur as he can see him. Bat ef he was to miss
him, I'll be-dog-on ef he oouldn’t oome mighty
nigh a cotchin' him in a fair race; for he can
run like blazes. An' jump ! gosh, he can jest
clean up and down any body in these diggings
or any whar also I ever hearn of, you bet. As to
flghtin* an' sich like, he wont run in it. an'
ev'ry body knows he wont rnn from it. He's
monsns friendly an' peaceable; but I wouldn't
like to cross his path whar he didn't want any
tracks made in it I once seed him fail thar
Peggy an' the chilldem is a cornin', an' I'll wait
tell they all git squatted roun' an' then I'll tell
all I know ‘bout Mr. Rav what you say his
name is?’
‘Reville,' answered Julius.
‘Yes; that‘s it—that's it I sai' I’d tei you
door, whence ftie'teifiJ; ‘
iug of heavy feel; preceded the entrance of Mrs.
Ramsay, Miss Grace and E slum, avho, after a
good deal of noise, seated themselves near the
middle of the door
Silence being restored, Mr. Ramsay was ex
pected to resume his narrative; but suddenly
Rislum left his seat, and taking a pair of large
shears, cut off a few inches of the cord that com
posed the carious ‘devil's candlestick.’ Light
ing this at the fire-place, he put it in the un
sightly gourd that hung on the wall, and in
stantly there appeared a ghastly representation
of the human face; this effect being produced
by the shining of the light through apertures
cut in rade imitation of the chin, mouth, teeth,
nose, and eyes
‘Daddy, Eithlum’th lit hith gourd ‘said Miss
Grace, addressing her father, and approvingly
looking towards Julius as if expecting him to
bestow some praise on what she considered the
wonderful performance of her brother, who.
after hanging np the gonrd, had taken his seat,
and was looking aronnd the room with a grin on
his face as if he expected to meet with approval.
As no saoh indication met his eye, he seemed a
little disooncerted; bat his irrepressible father
came to the rescue, saying:
•You uns dont ‘pear to notioe Rislam’s picter
much. Look at it an' and see if you dont think
he's a perfect ingennosity. Tho' he's never
been to school a minitin all his born days, an*
dont know a letter from a pig track, he can beat
people what has been to school ever since they
was knee high to a dock. Thars Dimpsey nn'
Hepsy what has bean to school lots of times,
an' he oan beat them all to smashes. They talk
about good manners and refinity, an' read Warts
on the Mine, bnt for all that they oan't compre-
stend their brother a ingennosity. I tell you
larnin's all stuffin' an' do turkey. Well, shore
enough Dimps aud Heps has come. But that's
not here nor thar. I'll go on and toll you 'bout
the teacher. When I got my geerls home I went
round and seen the neighbors an' tole 'em to
stop their children too; bnt somehow they
wouldn't mine me this time, an' nary one of
them quit school a minute that ever I hearn of.
Quinsecontly the feller kep' on a teaching' near
the whole year, an'then the folks tried to git
him to teaoh another sohool, bnt he wouldn't
do it. He went off somewhar way below here,
bat I don't know whar, an' aside of that I don't
keer mnoh, though he might be a clever feller.
As I said afore, all the folks in these diggings,
‘oept me, took a monstrashus likin' to him. an*
I don't deny the foot that I ain't got mnoh agin
him neither, only he larnt my gals how to do
so qnar. Whan he seed what fools folks was
about him, he's been back here lots of times
senoe he teaoht sohool. When he comes he
rides a stavin* big hoss what prances ronnd like
a dnok feather in a thunder storm. But that's
not all by a ding sort. Don't you think he
fetches a whole gang of spotted, slim-tailed
dogs with him, an' they can ont-yell creation.
An' he's got a sliok shiny rifle what shines in
the sun like stars of a cole, frosty night. He
calls it Ledford—kaae it ‘fords a heap of lead I
reckin'—I don’t know what else. An' the mis'ry
of it is he never pokes that gnn to'ards any
thing an' palls trigger withoaten a death shoot,
shore and aartin. He's party good looking any
way, an' when all the boys an' gals what used to
go to hia sohool has floot round him to tell him
nowdy an' sion like, he gives 'em all a present
of some kina, *an then him an' the big boys
pata out on a huntin' scrape. When they oome
baek they fetoh home all kin* of varmints, an'
they akin 'em, an* git np what they call a ’ bar-
becurus. Thar they have shootin* matches, ‘an
ran foot raoea, an* jump an' cavort round tell
night oomee, an' then they finish np the job
with a big frolio at somebody's house where
they ohoose copartners an'
. 'Dance all night tell broad daylight.
An’ go home with the gals in the mornin.’