The Argosy — page 376: what you’re looking at

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

362 The Syllabub Feast. Fred gave us just a brief summary of the past. Getting over to America without much difficulty, he had sought there for some re- munerative work, and sought in vain. One of those panics that the Americans go in for had recently occurred in the States, and numbers of men were unable to get employment. After sundry adventures and some semi-starvation,.he at length made his way to the West Indies. A relative of his late mother was, he knew, settled somewhere within the regions of ‘Bntish Guiana. He found him in Berbice, a small mer- chant of New Amsterdam. To him Fred told his whole story; and the old cousin gave him a berth in his counting-house. Office work was new to Fred; but he did his best; and with the first proceeds of his pay, he enclosed the ten pounds to Edna; the house forwarding the letter to their agents in London, to be posted from thence. Some months later, he chanced to see the advertisement for him in an English newspaper. As soon as he could, he came off to answer it in person ; and—here he was. ‘ All’s well that ends well,” remarked Mr. Brandon, in his dry way. “And don't you go fraternising with poachers, again, Mr. Fred |” cried out the Squire. ‘See what it brought you to the last time.” “No, Squire; never again,” answered Fred, pushing back his auburn hair (very long again), with a smile. ‘“ This one time has been quite enough.” ‘ But you cannot have Edna, you know,” said Mrs. Holland to him, with a disturbed face. ‘* The parsonage could not get on without her.” ‘¢T am afraid it will have to try, Mrs. Holland.” ‘‘T shall be obliged to keep my bed; that will be the end of it,” said Mrs. Holland, gloomily. “ Nobody can manage the children but Edna. When she is otherwise occupied, their noise is frightful: ten times more distracting than the worst toothache.” Fred said nothing further, she was looking so ruefully woebegone. Putting his arm into mine, he turned into a shady walk. ‘Will you Dé my groomsman at the wedding, Johnny? But for you, my good friend, I don’t know that I should have been saved to see this day.” °"- - ‘‘ Nay, Fred, I think it was the key of the church that saved you. I will be‘your groomsman if you really and truly prefer to pitch upon me, rather than on somebody older and better.” ‘‘'Yes, you.are right,” he answered, lifting his hat, and glancing . upwards. ‘It was the key of the church—under God.” JOHNNY LUDLOW. CORnniclooolkks (CO)