Puck — October 9, 1878 — page 12: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

12 PUCK. in order to havea little purse by the time those terrible two years should be over; and though I discountenanced her in so doing, I believe the constant employment saved her a deal of fretting. The toil too seemed todo her no physical harm; her blue eyes were as bright as ever, and her little mouth had always a cheer- ful smile for me that had far more of hope in it than of resignation. Her only happiness for the present, however (except what I+y in look- ing forward), was, I verily believe, to hear me talk of Fred and his doings; how the dear creature looked, what he said (and, in the way of message, even how he said it), and how he kept up under his disappointment. Now, as a matter of fact, I had very little to tell her; for though, of course, I saw Fred at the office, I saw him nowhere else. He jvould leave directly his work was over, and came in . the morning as punctually as usual, but what he did with himself in the meantime I could not find out. From certain appearances, how- ever, I had misgivings as to his course of life; he had awan and dissipated air, and would sometimes fall asleep over his ledger, in a way that seemed to me to hint at very late hours overnight. I thought it quite possible, know- ing his natural love of pleasure, that he had overrated his own strength of character, and was striving to drown his sense of disappoint- ment and injustice in the usual manner. Young as I was, and not, I am afraid, of too strict principles myself, I thought it my duty, as Kitty’s brother, to hint my suspicions, but Fred assured me that they were groundless, “Thave no heart, my dear fellow, just now,” he said, “for any amusement, whether harmless or otherwise, and I find it best for me to be alone and at home.” I was bound to believe him, for I had never known Fred to tell a lie, but a week or two af- terwards I had good reason to believe that he had deceived me. I was fond of a little gay- ety myself, in which Kitty encouraged me—as I am now firmly persuaded, in order that she might have the more opportunities for sitting up to work, for when at home I would not per- mit it—and on a certain occasion I had been to the Adelphi ‘Theatre. As I was walking home and passing the doors of a music hall, 1 could have taken my oath that I saw Frederic Raynor in the crowd that was emerging from it; the next moment | lost sight of him, but if I had spoken to him I could not have been more sure of his identity. He was at the office at the usual hour, looking very much as if after the music hall he had been at the cider cellars (as the late supper houses were called in those days), but of course 1 had no right to dictate to him as to how he should spend his evenings. “So you were at ‘the Harmonium,’ my friend, last night,” said I, half in banter, half in remonstrance. “Indeed ‘I was not,” said he, looking me straight in the face, as was his custom. “I went home from the office, and remained there all the evening, except for half an hour when I went out—” he hesitated, then added, “on business.” ‘Then somehow I felt, not because of the music hall, but because of his lying to me in that composed way, that Fred was going to the bad. At the same time I little guessed how very far he had advanced that way, and least of all the direction his erring steps had taken. It was about six months after communication between Fred and my sister had been cut off, that for the first time since 1 had been in the employment of Halland Brothers, Mr. Jacob Raynor did not appear at his desk at his ordi- nary hour or rather minute, for he was punc- tuality personified. We all concluded that he was ill, particularly as Fred was also absent, but the cause of their non-appearance was, as it turned out, much worse than anything we had imagined. Both the members of the firm were in their usual places, and when the time for closing arrived, word came to us that all the clerks were to remain, as there was some- thing of importance to be communicated to them. Even then, few of us associated the matter with the Raynors, and perhaps one or two had qualms of conscience as to whether some peccadillo of their own more serious than common might not be the cause of so porten- tous an announcement. I never saw Mr. Halland, the elder, so moved as when he began to address us. “A great misfortune, my friends, has befallen us all” (we thought the house had failed). “Dishonesty, for the first time, as I believe, has crept in among us. One of our number, hitherto trusted on his own account, and much more so on account of his relationship to an- other, has betrayed his trust. It is casy to say that such a wretched termination of a career that promised so brightly should be a warning to us all; but it is an example bought at a dear rate indeed, at the cost (for one thing) of a fa- ther’s misery. I left our dear and long-tried friend, Mr. Raynor, this morning well-nigh heart-broken; a man that will never be him- self again. Hisson Frederic has falsified his accounts, with the object of procuring money, no doubt for the purpose of self-indulgence and dissipation.” What he said more I did not rightly under- stand, the announcement of Frederic’s guilt fell on me like a blow and stunned me. I was pained and shocked upon my own account, tor he had been my nearest friend, and until lately my most constant companion; but my great distress and wretchedness arose from the thought of poor Kitty. I pictured to myself how she would look that night when I should tell her, “Frederic isa thief: you must forget him.” I saw her large blue eyes staring at me in mute despair, and the work dropping from her little hands in horror —the work at which there was no need to toil in future, since he for whose sake she wearied herself had proved unworthy ofher, Proved? No. Itwasnot proved, and before that was done I would tell her nothing. I asked to have a few words in private with my employers, a liberty which nothing but the urgent necessity of the case would have prompted me to do; for though 1 knew tnem to be just, their manners to their inferiors were somewhat austere, and I filled but a very hum- ble place in their service. They gave permis- sion at once, and I found myself alone with the two brothers. ‘They looked at me very gravely; my impression is that, having perhaps heard of my intimacy with Frederic, they ex- pected me to confess to some connivance with his evil deeds. This made me feel more em- barrassed than ever; I stood speechless, “What have you got to say, Mr. Clayton?” {r. Halland coldly; “our time is pre- ir,” cried I, scarce knowing what I said, “1 speak on behalf of another, of my sister Kitty, who was engaged to be married to Fre- deric Raynor. She loves him with all her heart, and you were talking of broken hearts. Oh, pray have mercy upon her. Do not pass sentence upon Fred unless you are quite sure.” The brothers exchanged significant glances with one another. “This is very sad,” said Mr. John (the younger) gently; “ we did not know of it.’ “No, sir,” said I, “it was not talked about. Mr. Raynor disapproved of the match, but it was to take place next year, nevertheless.” “Ah, disobedience was ‘to be expected of him,” observed Mr. Halland. ‘ Your sister, Mr. ‘Clayton, has had a lucky escape.” “She will not think so, sir; and it will kill her.” “ My poor lad,” said the younger partner, laying his hand upon my shoulder, at which [ burst into tears, though I strove to restrain them, “we are very sorry: sorry for her and sorry for you; you need not be ashamed of those tears, which do you honor.” “Frederic Raynor will not be punished,” said Mr. Halland in a gentler tone; “or rather he will be left to the stings of his own con- science; for his father’s sake, we shall spare him all public shame. He sails for Australia next week. In a new land and under new in- fluence there is still a hope that he may make amends for his sinful —nay, his criminal—act, and become another man.” “Oh, sir, but are you quite sure he did it?” “Yes, he confessed as mach to my brother and myself this morning, and in his father's presence; it is a wonder that murder—parri- cide—was not added to his other crime, for I thought it would have killed the old man.” «Te will kill Kitty,” cried I, vehemently. “No, no,” said the younger brother; it will not kill her, if, as we doubt not, she is a good girl, She will see that this young man is not worthy of her, and in the end will make a better choice.” “Can I see him, sir?” “No, my lad; it is his own wish that he should see no one till he sets sail. An inter- view with him would only pain you, for I see you have a tender heart. We must forget him, that is the kindest thing to be done on all ac- counts; and above all things let no one speak of him to his father. (To be continued.) Puck's “Pechanges. Why is it that people boot a dog and shoo a hen?—Bost, Transcript. How to lose flesh: Start a meat market and trust every one that comes along.—Zurner’s Falls Reporter. Many persons given to hitting the nail on the head find on investigation that the nail in question is the finger nail_—Buffalo Ex- press. ‘Tue discovery of the man who hung Emmet inspires a faint hope that we may yet find the fellow who struck Billy Patterson.— Cin. Sat. Night. Licut blue stockings are going to be the fa- vorite color this fall, but a lady who doesn’t intend to fall out of a cutter is not obliged to invest.—Detroit Free Press. Sue was a stubborn woman, and when she died her husband planted a willow over her grave, so that even in death she might have a willow *f her own,— Cin, Sai, Night. Dr. Bancock having invented a machine that successfully disposed of water, gave him- self up entirely to che disposal of whisky, and with such success that he is now one of the leading outcasts of California— Danbury News. ‘Tue phonograph has been so improved by Mr. Edison, we learn from the Chicago Mews, that it has sore throat, earache, measles, etc., and has in one instance raised a moustache, Here, perhaps, is your Democratic candidate for President.—Buffalo Express. comicbooks.com