The Lebanon express., December 14, 1888, HOLIDAY SUPPLEMENT, Image 5

Silt
HOLIDAY SUPPLEMENT.
Y ii
CHRISTMAS
is h?rc;
Winds whistle
uhrill.
Icy and chill.
LitUo care we;
I jrtls wo fear
Weather with
out. Sheltered about
Too mahogany
tree.
Thackeray.
"LONG AFORE I KNOW ED."
BY JAMES WHTTCOMB RILEY.
This delicious cem of the Iloosier poet
is here presented, with due apologies to
Judge, which first printed it:
Jes' a little bit o' feffer I remember atill
Cst to almost cry fer Christmaa, like a youngster
will
Fourth o" Julys nothin' to It! Xow Year's ain't
mell !
Casrer Siindav CSrens day Jes' all dead In the
shell!
Lordy. though : at night, you know, to set around
and hear
The old folfes work the story off about the sledge
and deor,
And 'Santy" siootin" round the roof, all wrapped
In fur and faz
Long afore
I knowed who
"Santy Clans" wuz!
Cst to wait, end set up later a week er two ahead:
Couldn't hardly keep awake, ner wouldn't go to
bed;
Kittle stew in on the Are, and Mother settin" near
Darn in" socio and roc kin' in the skreeky rocking
cher:
Pep gapJ, and wonder where It wuz the money
went.
And -qucr l with his frosted heels, and spill his
liniment:
And we a-dreamin" sleigh bells when the clock ud
whir and buzz .
Lonj afore
I knowed who
"Santy Clans" wuz!
Size the fireplace, and fisher how "Old Santy
could
Hanaee to come down the chimbly, like they said
he would:
vWisht that I could hide and see him wondered
what he'd say
Ef be ketched a feller layfn' fer him thataways?
But I bet on him. and liked him. same as ef he had
Turned to pat me on the back and say, "Look a
here, my lad:
Here's my pack jes he'p yourse l like all good
boys does:"
Ixmg afore
I knowed who
"Santa Claus" wuz.
Wisht that yarn wuz true about him as it peared
"-s. to be
Truth made out o lies like that-uns good enough
erme.
Wisht I still wuz so confldin I could Jes' po wild
Over bangle' tp my stockin's like the little child
Cfimbin' in my U.'o-night, and bepsin me to tell
"Bout them reindeers, and "Old Santy that she
loves so well; x
I'm half sorry for this litOe-eirl-sweetheart of
his
Xjong afore
She knows who
"Santy Claus la I
'!& vx&-b sot ttvtttc,
fijr5 sot ntedt,
(n5 j?f6nfgc of f cfa-g t$ttxu
6f6efrtcn5 lre'ff mutt
QSCni itf9 an& faffj? tpcctte,
jtor Xma.3 noiu U f ctc.
9 ..c- - . - ... " 3
VN Tf v f J -57
V
1IIL1.SF0KDS UKUMIT.
CHRISTMAS 6TORY, NOT AFTER TBS
REGCXATIOX TPATTERX.
7c
i r T .STprT?rl a nMllr 1MU
village on a river as pure as
truth, in the heart of the
Iresquissus valley, with
mountains walling it in
north and south. At the time
I write of it had all the requisites of a
thriving town, including a population
which dripped with self satisfaction.
This very comfortable commodity was
bo dense and universal that it fairly cov
ered the place like a fog.
Hillsford's most remarkable citizen was j
a hermit, an unkempt and eccentric in- j
dividual, who lived in a cabin high up (
on the North mountain, and was known j
as "Old Weaver." In winter, when the i
foliage was less abundant, his email !
dwelling could be eeen from the village, ';
a Little speck of crude architecture, the j
smoke from which curled sometimes into
the very sky. It was pointed out to vi3- '
itors, who were told, without loss of :
time, of the hermit, his civilization defy- '
ing habits and unspeakable appearance, j
But it was difficult to exhibit the man ,
himself. He came down to the village !
at infrequent intervals ami then tarried ,
only long enough to procure some simple
necessities and departed without holding j
speech with any one. The townspeople j
had tried to break into the privacy of his j
home without avail. They had leen re- ;
pulsed with looks and gestures which j
inspired fear and helped to conlirm the i
opinion that '-Old Weaver waa crazy and j
had better bo let alone." j
And surelv no man in his right mind :
could live the life he lived. IIL hair and
whiskers showed no respect for the pro
vailing fashion in hirsute trimming, and
his clothes were a slap at all decent gar
ments. He rarelv spoke at all, but when
he did his words were briefness itself.
In summer thev who went near his
cabin sometimes found him sitting out- t
side reading the Uible, an occupation ;
j from which they could not easily divert j
! him. I
A ms causeu some to ucciuo mat ne
was 'a religious crank," and helped to
dissipate the theory that he had com
mitted some terrible crime. Hillsford
was full of wonder about the hermit's
past life and antecedents, but as there
was absolutely no way of rinding out it !
was obliged to remain in cruel ignorance.
All it knew about him was that several ,
years before the time I speak of he had :
arrived in the village, purchaoed a piece
of land on the top of the mountain,
reared a cabin and begun a life of solitude
perfectly incomprehensible to the people
of the valley.
At last they mostly settled down to
the belief that "Old Weaver had been
crossed in love." Everybody knew that
, love, if it did not run 6moothly, could
j upset people completely. This gave him
exceptional interest in the eyes of the
I younjj and sentimental, although the
J most tnscginative among them could not
picture him as having ever been a per
1 eonage capable of inspiring the divine
lunacy.
Never were they fully sensible of his
value as a romantic figure until after he
had been "written up" for a New York
journal. A newspaper correspondent,
I on his summer vacation, wandered into
! Hillsford. and, of course, soon heard
' about the hermit, since he was all there
, was outside of the usual and un interest
! column and a lialf of Bbk'7Z,areil
I mostly speculation, tinged Vitb. etnti
: xnent, about tho curious recJu
! Thi3 had a good result. V."!
tho old man in tho minda of tVMS1
iu.uj v .-fc- Aai,A v w lr d- n
old mountaineer to ' r,f;.
I hermit, with cxtraordina-r timental
poosiDMiues
las
0 B
It was often said tluit Weaver would
bo found starved or frozen to death some
time. So every winter there naa talk of
"looking after him," by thos-ti author
ity, but it ended ,h.i:ilk, tW ho w:is not
exactly the kin r of ni&n to dictate to.
In the rermtcfirar of Simpson's grocery,
he was "a hard one to tackle."
In the beginning of the hermit's last
winter on the mountain some hunters,
driven by cold to his cabin, entered and
found him moaning on his rude couch.
They spread the news in Milford. and
"the authorities" conferred together and
decided tlmt it was time to act. But
what should they do witli him? Nolxxly
could go up to his lodge on the mountain
to take care of him; his wretched dwell
ing contained no comforts. And noUxly
wanted to take him into bis home.
There was the i county house, where all
pauper were sent, but that was near
the eountv sent, seven miles away.
They wno were most outs-token in the
matter of having him "looked after" and
who owned ihe largest and most com
fortable houses, "hemmed and hawed
when it came to a question of taking
him in. Some one, in n moment of hu
mane feeling, suggested that the seven
milea' journey to "the poorhouse might
prove dangerous to the sick man. and
might even throw serious blame on those
who lxcame responsible for it.
However, after much thought and
more talk had lecnput upon the subject,
the oorhouse faction prevailed, ami tho
fiat went forth that Old Weaver must lie
taken charge of by the county, willing or
unwilling.
The expedition set forth the next
morning. It was princijxilly composed
of "the authoritit-s." otherwise hard
headed and dictatorial personages, with
tliat degree of heart lessnetss peculiar to
the class known as "prominent citizens."
A heavy snow lay uku the ground, and
the mountain roads were unbroken. A
big sled, generously supplied with straw
and lunch baskets, wax made ready.
The departure of this hermit ensuring
expedition was an event. The jMJstoHice
loafers gazed upon the imposing specta
cle with envy in their hearts, though
they cheered the noble philanthropists
roundly. The ieojle at the coffier drug
store were all outside waving their Itats
and making other demount mt ions of
pood will and interest. The varn
spinners at Simpson's grocery "held
their tolwicco firmly between their teeth
and their hands in "their trousers pockets
as tho sled went by. This was their
manner of expressing a very warm in
terest Women watched from doors,
windows an I porches, as women always
do, and a swarm of enthusiastic small
boys bung on to the sled until driven
back when half a mile out of town.
The philanthropists reached Weaver's
cabin fate in the day, after digging their
way through great "snowdrifts. All this
heroic exertion made them feel more
dominant in spirit tlum ever. The very
first rap on the hermit's door had the
sound of authority in it. delivered as it
was by the formidable fist of the town
marshal, backed by the approlraUon of
the other prominent citizens who accom
panied him.
There was no response.
The expression of decision on the mar
shal's face deepened as he lxgan to beat
upon the door with both fusts and kick
it with the thick soles of his tremendous
boot.
Still there was no answer.
While they were parleying about
whether it was time to use the ax rr
not the closed shutter of the hermit's
single window opened, revealing hi9
haggard face, in which blazed a pair of
eyes whoso wrathful lightning fairly an
nihilated the prominent citizens.
"What do you want?" ho asked, after
n moment of discomfiting silence, as
they stood, woodless, under tho spell of
his unspoken anger.
"We heard you were sick," said the
marshal.
"WeUr
"Wo knew you would need help." said
the justice of" tho peace, "and so came
to try to do something for you."
"You have put yourselves to unneces
sary trouble. I want nothing."
"But our duty as citizens will not
allow u.i to let a fellow being suffer,"
said Deacon White,
"Your first duty i3 to mind your own
business," said tho hermit.
"Hero is Dr. llorsellv, who will help
vou right off, if you will let us in," said
Mr. Smollett, also a prominent citizen.
Tho doctor stood silent, medicine case in
hand, tho rigidity of the regular's code
preventing his doing any trumpeting on
his own a. 'count.
"When I am wearv of life I shall send
for Dr. Horsefly. tTntil then he must
excuse me," returned tho hermit, with
something like merriment dancing in liis
wild eyes.
The "doctor colored under this deadly
insult, feeling it tho more because tho
earth was y-t fresh over his two last
patients. This otTemivo defiance of their
authority was the tacitly understood
signal for a concerted rally of tho rescu
ers. Instinctively they drew ne-xrer to
gether, and one said:
MOAXIXa 03 BI3 RUDE COUCH.
"Come, come. Weaver, Ms is no way
to do. Wo are here in .the friendliest
spirit, and are Bincerelv anxious to have
yci taken carp of Yjli are a sick man.
ton ougia tun to tie alone us you are." I
"Well, what da you proposa to do with
me?' ' - ' x
"Why, why take you where you wlU
be projierly cared for, of " course,"
answered Justice MeCracken.
"Now, that is kind, I admit," said the
hermit, and ho looked at them with a
strange, amused expression in his eyes.
Believing that they were gaining ground,
they grow bolder.
"Yes, we wish to be kind. We can't
let you itcrish up here, you know."
"Well, where do you propose to take
mc?"
"Hem, hm: why, vou see. Weaver
you see llilLsford has no hospital
and"
"But you have fixed upon eome place
for nie, I presume?" questioned tho her
mit, in the tone of one about to sur
render. "Y-e-s," 6poke up another. "IVe
thought wo would take you to Johns
town." "Ah, that's the county seat, Isnt It?"
"Ves."
"And the county house is near there.
Isn't itr
"Yes."
"Well, that's a goxl enough place for
any one who wants to go thete. 1 don't.
Now it is time for you to leave," and he
shut the window.
The besiegers conferred together and
again began to beat iqion the door. Feel
ing more courageous when Weaver's
wild eyes were not on them they called
to htm that he must consent to go with
them, or they would take him by force.
The window opened once more and re
vealed the gaunt form of the hermit
grasping a shotgun. Instinctively the
attacking party fell back a few paces.
The hermit spoke: "1 will blow the
head off any man who again lays a hand
upon my door. 1 am in my own house,
on my own ground, and there is not la
enough In the republic to permit you to
enter and lay a liand on a man who is
neither criminal nor pauper. Had you
come here proffering private charity I
should have resented it, but 1 should
have respected vou. As it is I will kill
you like dogs if you trouble me a mo
ment more." An'd he pointed the gun
at them in a way that was convincing.
tJrumblinglr they moved away. "He's
right," said the justice, who lia'd a mor
tal fear of firearms: "he's not a pauper.
He owns this ground and he owns the
house. If he won't come with us wil
linglv we shall have to let him alone."
"lie's as crazy as a kite," piped uptwo
or three others, anxious to cover up their
chagrin.
"He ought to be confined as a danger
ous lunatic," said the doctor, iu whose
bosom still rankled Weaver's poisoned
arrow.
They reached Hillsford in a crestfallen
frame'of mind, all agreeing that the her
mit might die a dozen times over before
they would "put themselves out" to do
anvthing for nim again.
Two weeks later, when the weather
was bitter cold. 1 lobby Hatt. a sturdy
12-year-old. - rushed into Isia mothers
sitting room one afternoon, bursting
with news. "Old Weavers in town," he
panted.
His mother looked up from her sewing
machine with interest. Like everyldy
else iu Hillsford she knew the history of
the fruitless 6iege of the hermit's cabin.
"Yes. he's here; awful sick, too: out
of his head, and is lying on the floor in
the lack art of Hunt's grocery. They're
goin' to send him to the poorhouse at
Johnstown."
"Not in this terrible weather," said
Mrs. Hart, looking alarmed.
"Yes; right oil. There's no place here
for him. they say."
"No placi for a ioor old sick man in
all Hillsford? We are not eo bad as that,
Kobbv. I am sure."
"Oh, but I heard Judge Markle and
Deacon White and all of them say so.
It's settled."
. T 1 :
1 J I. ,
3 vr- u--
- - i3x
"I WILL KIIX YOU LIKE DOGS."
"Perhaps not." said Mm. Hart as she
began .to put on her bonnet and cloak.
She was, perhnps, the poorest person of
refinement and education in tho town
and the most benevolent. She waa a
widow, whose only dower were a boy of
is ana a girl or u years. ty sewtjjg al
most ni"ht and duvshe manage! to keep
the wolf out of sight.
Accompanied by Kobhy rfje went over
to Hunt s to see the h.e'rmit, and nt once
knew that ho. TTITs sick unto death. As
the sled whh waa to transport him to
Jolmgfcewn drew up at the door Mrs.
,ttaft touched the arm of Judge Russell,
w1k seemed to be clothed with more
authority just then than any of tho other
"promir.mt-citizens" who hovered about,
and said:
"I will take care of Weaver if you will
send him to ray house. He is a very sick
man, already greatly exhausted by his
journey down the mountain. Tho drive
to Johnstown might kill him."
"Really, Mrs. Hart, you're always do
ing too much for others. Young Dr.
Clay was in here a bit ago, and ho said
the old fellow oughtn't to bo moved so
far. But you'd better think twice before
you take him. lle'U bo an awful
charge."
"I know that," she answered; "but I
will take him and do the .best I can for
him." So tho hermit was put upon the
slt't and delivered at Mr. Hart a like a
' i . . r - a -
. " 1 1 - I TNT,
1;V - I ir
bale of merchandise. The widow's un
selfishness kindled a temporary I'atno of
the same nature in other breasts, and for
the moment volunteer help was plenty.
She took advantaixuuf somo of thia to get
her patient bathed and barbered and put
to ImiI in a comfortable. Christian way.
Then began for hef weeks of care,
work and anxiety. The Sewing machine
waa silent, with the unpleasant conse
quence of low finances. Contributions to
the comfort of the sick man fell away as
time passed and the nlfair became an
old story. Young Dr. Clay alone re
mained faithful. The donations of others
had dwindled down to advice. A II in all
Mi's. Hart liad "a hard pull of It.
At last the hermit became convales
ent. Finding himself in a home where
refinement and , kindness prevailed, he
fell into the ways of its inmates as nat
urally as if bo had lieen accustomed to
civilization oil his life. He talked geni
ally and charmingly, and seemed s
sessed of as much information as any
man of Iho world. Clad In his riglit
mind ami conventional clothes, he lost
his character of hermit entirely. Many
of the signs of age, too, had disappeared
under the good ollices of the tailor and
the leirln-r. lledii1 not look a day over 45.
He war. quite well now, but ho showed
no disposition to return to hissemi-sav-ngo
life. w far as anyone outside of Mrs.
Hart's borne knew.
Christmas was afrrtost at hand. Hills
ford wa:t busy buying its presents and
getting up festivities. At Mrs. Hart's
the I'lvparations were on a scale so
simpU that they were almost pathetic.
Two days In-fore Christmas the town
had something new to talk about. A
middle aged gentleman and lady of the
upper class, nijarently, arrived at the
Ilillsfor.l lictel nnd asked for Weaver.
While l hey rested nnd dined they were
regaled v. ith the story of the hermit's
queer doirijjs. the ineffectual attempt to
send him to the poorhouse, the widow
Hart's interference ami everything.
Then they were piloted to the Haft door,
and for "two days afterward, although
the town was almost eaten up by curios
ity, it could find out notliing at all about
them.
It g"t the whole story on Christmas
from The Weekly Chronicle.
0
THEHt CHRISTMAS GIFT.
Our readers will msrpnsed and cratiSed to
learn that Mrs. Caroline Hart was married nipht
before In.- to Mr. Vincent H. Wearer; of New
York. The ceremony took place t the bride's
home at S o'clot-k. The proom's sister. Mrs. C". I.
Stevenson, and her husband, also of New Yort.
end two or three of the bride's closest friends
were the only piHta.
Mrs. Hart.- no Mrs. Wearer, as everybody
knows, is one of the must highly respected ladies
of Hi!l-firvL Allhoiicli far from rich, she has
been philanthropic to nn estraort'lnary degree.
K.very o:k- knows bow Weaver, the hermit, fell
sick one day early in the winter when he came
Into town to buy some supplies, and Mrs. Hart had
hira removed to her cottage to prevent his being
taken to the county bouse nt Johnstown. But not
until recently riiil auy one know that Herman
Weaver the hermit, and Vincent H. Weaver the5
celebrated author were one and the same.
It has been frem-rally believed that our hermit
had been thvk-tfui of some cruelty at Cupid s
hands, and for this reason had deserted the so
ciety of his fellow men. We learo from good
authority that this diagnosis was incorrect. He
lived In bis mountain cabin because he could there
devote himself to the work of writing his books
without the risk of being lured away by any of
the thousand diversions which tempt him from
bis toil in the city. His character of semi-savage
wan assumed to protect him from intruders.
Mr. Weaver really did not live In his mountain
lodge half the time be was supposed to. Often,
for months together, he would be absent, mixing
with the wits and litterateurs of the metropolis.
Ho has even lieen several times to Europe, while
the pen4o of Hillsford supposed him to be within
bis solitary cabin.
Eccentric he Is, to be sure. For Instance, we
have been told that before be spoke of marriage
to Mrs. Hart hs put SXi.QOO In her nn in a sub
stantial New York bonk and settle it handsome
sum upon each of her two children. He wished
to make ber Independent before the question of
marriage waa discussed, and he considered ber
entitled to a! be could do for her for having takes
bun to her borne, thereby sarins h 13 life when bs
wss Rl death's door.
This Is a true love match, without don' t.
Christmas jrift Is the very best la Saata Claus'
Cck. it is labeled "love," and comprehends the
tter part of earth and a portion of heaven.
Mr. Weaver made a final trip to bis cabin on the
mountain the ot her day, and wrote across its door
In blic letters, "it Is not good for man to be alone."
Mr. and Mrs. Weaver will build a splendid house
here for their summer home, but will spend their
winters in New York. They left yesterday to
finish the season there. We wish them every hap
piness under tho sun.
This startling piece of news caused
many an eye to protrudo when it was
read. "1 always thought that Mrs. Hart
was a designing thing. Sly, oh, so sly.
J'll warrantsho knew that Weaver was a
rich man or she never would have taken
him in," said a woman who, only a
month before, had expressed the fear
that tho widow "would have old Weaver
on has liacds for life."
Uebtrudk Garrisox.
Beautiful and right it is that gilts end
good wishes should lill tho air like snow
liakes at Christmas tide. And beautiful
is tho year in its coming and in its going
most beautiful and blessed because it
is always tho Year of Our Lord.
4 'f v J t i- r"i
MK. DAWBAKN,
BT T. W. ROUE&TSO, ACTfJOaOtr "BOCIITT,
"school." rrc.
CHAPTER L
-j
"Would you have the kindness to step thia
tray, sir, into Mr. Daw barn's roomf
Those words were addressed by a banker's
clerk to a young man whose dress and man
ners were a vulgar compound of groom,
bettiag man., and pugilist. The sporting
gentleman swaggered by the desks and the
clerks, looking infinite disparnsetnent at
whole concern, nnd was ushered through tha
double doors into presence of Mr. Daw barn.
Mr. Dawbara was tho principal banker in
Bramlingdou, and Bramlitigdoa was the
county town of the little eonuty of MufTorti.
It consisted of o:ie long, strangling street,
tieautitlcd by five old entireties, each &
splendid specimen of architecture, which
contrasted strongly with the Town Hall,
the Corn Exchange, and the Market "lace,
which xere modern buildings, aud unpleasant
to look nt.
"Air. Stullen,"said Mr. Dawbarn to tbe
youug gentleman of sporting appearance,.
1 hnve to talk to you, sir, very seriously,
sit down, if you please."
Mr. Stti.Mert sat iu a chair as if it were at
saddle, shut one eye knowingly, and ex
amined the thong of his whip with the other.
"Mr. StudJeu," continual the banker
solemnly. "1 have been laformed that you
have overdrawn your nccoaut to the amoanti
or
"Yes; I know all about thit, governoT,'
broke in Mr. Studden. "I've been told so,
twice."
"I therefore gave directions tint t!i rex
tima you presented n check, yo:i should h&
.shown jfi hero to me." said tho banker.
"TUii is a check of my own drawing.' 1
"Quite so."
"Well, now I am here," said Mr. Studden,,
goading the side of his imaginary horse with
his left bee!; "respectful comps, nnd should
like to know your littlj game. What's to bo
donef
"Mr. tden, I have known you from a
ber."
"Well, I know that"
"And 1 now see you a ruined man"
"Hold hard. Matilda," interrupted Stud
den; "not ruined pushed for the moment
m my trees, but not staked. I've been un
lucky on the races this last year unlucky at
play. "iVhy, last night 1 lost a pot at loo.
and then that girl behaved to me in"
Mr. Studden," said the banker, closing his
eyes, "1 cannot listen to a catalogue of your
cri crl imprudences. 1 am. the father of ex
family, and"" -
"Cut that, governor!" broke fa the amiable
Mr. Studden. "What 1 want is mo:iey, and
not preaching no preaehee and floggeetoo.
This is the state of the odds. I've overdrawn
my account, good: will you let me have
some more? tin, I mean. If yon will, I am
sure to retrieve myseif. I've some splendid
things on, but must have tho ready ti id
dity rhino."
"Mr. Studden," said Mr. Dawbarn, "I" do
not understand your jargon, nor Js such lan
guage tho sort of thing I am accustomed to
bear. You have lost the fortune left you by
your father iu gambling, horse racing, and
and the like. For tho last seven years I
have seen going to irretrievable ruin. As yon
bad a kms minority, ami no friends to adriso
you, 1 have tried to help you, but I
regret to say, your complete rnia is inevita
bleinevitable." "Bet you fifteen to one it isn't!" said Mr.
Stndden.
" What you (iTe me," continued the banker,
not noticinj tho interruption "what yon
owe me I shall never trouble you for."
"Clefs youT' said the irrevereut Studden.
Mr. Dawtiaru's face reddened. "Mr. Stud
den," be choked out, " I am not accustomed
to be treated with rudeness, and I don't means
to begin now. 1 would have given yoa soma
ndvice, sir.5
"Don't want it, thank you.
"Oood advice, parental advice; hot it will
be of no use, 1 can see."
"rot a bis."
'I shall leave you therefore to the pursuit
bf your career of profligacy, and may it
may it -Mr. Dawbarn stammered, for bo
felt that be was proposing a toast at a publie
meeting "may it prove to you that that
that''
'Out with it, governor," said the insolent
young snorting man.
".2o, sir, 1 will not out with It," said the
banker, majestically. "I will not say -what
I was going to say."
Ae yoa quite clear what yon were gome
to rtP inquired .the young man, wfco re
spected neither age nor wealth.
Mr. Dawbara covered Lis defeat grandly.
"I will not detain you any longer, Mr. Stud
den." lie rang the bell. "I wish you good
day, sir; my servant will show you out."
"Very good, governor," said air. Studden.
dismounting from bis chair, or saddle. "Yoa
throw roe over very good; and just at tho
moment when I could make a colossal for
tune. If I had your capital, or you had my
talent and speculated ka foczilam! what
might not be made with the tips I have! X
know the way out, Chawles" this Mr. Stud
den addressed to tho servant "you needn't
show me. Mr. Dawbarn, I have tho honor
to bo, air, yours truly, ever to command, et
cetera cetera cetera.
Mr. Studden departed with a Sourish,
loavkix tho banker is a state of the most
wrathful tf-inatiott. Mr. Dawbarn waa a
great man in t.'imlingdon and accustomed
to be treated with respct and deference and
servility, and though so xcellent a person,
Mr. Dawbarn was someuung a humbtur.
and tho young man's manners cad w.-?i
him that ho knew it. and- it u very annoying
to men of 50 years of ago to bo fouad out by
their juniors. Mr. Robert Studden, or, as he
was called, Mr. Boh Studden, or Mr. Rip
Etudden, swaggered past the cashier and
clerks with the ease of a jockey and tho graea
of a groom. A dozen steps from the door of
the bank he met a clerk whom ho stopped.
"Halloa!" he cried, with graceful badinage,
"ilnnro, how goes it?"
"How do yoa do, Mr. Stasliear inquired
the cleric
"Don't b la cici a hurry. YTc'I, bow is
"Ilr. Ehi!-r '
Dcm'fc ba afraid, my boy. I'm not tho
l3!2.a cpoil sport. Why tcs bolt wish her?
iisltl rak.adyouciylas52vcrtotclpyoc
I rcw tm t oiUcr a-jrzBZ. lU toCviol,
ui-u-CiT." -- .
V,-
i