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“I'll bring it down to give you the that them Van Cleves allays kin tell idea,” she said, and ran up for it. when a Suydam is near them.”
Van Cleve looked at it over his wife's “Nonsense!” Lucy set the child down shoulder when it came. “ Try that again. thing on Humpty, Miss Coyt," he
“ Jess as some men,” pursued Dumfort, said, and when it was on he held the calmly, “kin tell when there's a rattleboy up on his outstretched arm. “ Pretty's snake in the grass nigh ; an'others creep a picture, hey, Dumfort ?"
with cold ef a cat's in the room." “I'll finish it for him,” exclaimed Miss Coyt, still contemptuous, watched Lucy, with a gush of generosity. "I can Van Cleve sharply as he passed into the make Sam another."
house. “ Dorcas,” he said, quietly, as he Mrs. Dorcas broke into a delighted passed, "bring Humpty in. Keep inflood of thanks. She jumped up to fit doors to-day.” He went up to the loft, and button it on the boy, while her closing the trap-door behind him, and husband, quite as vain and pleased as Lucy fancied that she heard the click of she, held him. It seemed incredible to fire-arms. Lucy that this ghastly horror, whic Dumfort's pipe went out in his mouth never could be mentioned, stood like a with his smothered excitement. · He's shadow behind the three; that this loadin'! Suydam's comin'!” he whiscommonplace, jolly little family went to pered. “ Thomas ain't the same man he bed, rose, sat down to eat, with Death as was this mawnin'! He's layin' to, 'n' their perpetual companion, dumb, wait- waitin'." ing to strike.
• To murder another man ! And he The next morning was that of an calls himself a Christian ! He had April day. The whole world was family prayers this morning! swathed in fog and grey dampness, and What's that got to do with it?" the next moment it flashed and sparkleil demanded Dumfort, fiercely. “ Thomas's in the sunlight, every leaf quivering got his dooty laid out. He's got the back in brilliance. Young Van Cleve murderer of his brother to punish. The had set off by daylight, whistling behind law's left it to them two famblies to his steers. Before noon he came up the settle with each other. God's left it to mountain, his head sunk, silent, and them. Them old Jews sent the nearest of morcse. Even the ruddy colour was gone: kin to avenge blood. The Suydams hev his thick-featured, jolly face was nipped blood to avenge." He got up abruptly
and walked uneasily up and down the Dorcas ran to meet him. “ Are you barn-yard. Dorcas had left her work, and sick, Tom ?”
with Humpty in her arms sat by the win"No."
dow, her keen eyes fixed on the thicket " Have you”-she glanced swiftly of pines that fenced in the house, black around_“have you heard-anything? and motionless in the breathless air.
"Nothing. I thought it best to throw No rain had fallen as yet, but the off work to-day.”
forest, the peaks of the mountains beyond, He drove the steers into the inclosure. the familiar objects in the barn-yard, As he unyoked them he sent keen, had drawn closer with that silent hush furtive glances into the darkening and peculiar dark distinctness that woods. Meanwhile the sky had low- precedes a storm. They, too, listened ered. Clouds walled in the mountain and waited. Lucy heard a step in the plateau; the day had grown heavy and house. Van Cleve came heavily down foreboding
from the loft and seated himself, his face Dumfort came to Lucy, who turned toward the road by which sitting on the steps with the baby. stranger must approach.
“ Thomas has hed a warnin',” he said, Lucy stood irresolute for a few minin a low tone. “ Cunnel Abram's on utes ; she felt as if she could not draw his track."
her breath; the air was full of 'eath. “ He has seen him!” She started up, Pulling the hood of her waterproof over catching up Humpty in her arms. • He her head, she crossed the stile and is coming here?”
walked down the road. “ I will be first “ So I think. But Thomas hain't to meet the wolf,” she said aloud, laughseen him. He's ben warned. I've heerd ing nervously.
as with age.
The road wound through the unbroken He frowned irritably. "Nothing of forest down to the creek. As she came the kind. Somebody must go, of course. nearer to the water she heard the plash The physicians in Abingdon are married of a horse's feet crossing the ford. She men. I am a stranger, and have nobody. tried to cry out that he was coming, to There is nothing to keep me in this warn them, but her mouth would not world but a little business which I have make a sound ; her legs shook under her; to do, and that lies in Otoga. I really she caught by a tree, possessed by must ride on. But I will take you childish, abject fear. When the horse safely home first. Where are you stayand rider came into sight she laughed ing?” hysterically.
At the cabin yonder. Behind the It was the good-humoured doctor. He pines. Thomas Van Cleve’s." turned quietly at her cry, and smiled The doctor had stepped before her to placidly. Nothing would startle that bend aside the bushes. He stopped short, phlegmatic mass of flesh. He alighted, and stood motionless a moment, his tied his horse, and came to her with the back to her. When he turned there leisurely, noiseless movements peculiar was an alteration in his face which she to him.
could not define. The actor was gone; You are frightened. What are you the real man looked out for an instant afraid of, Miss Coyt?”
from behind the curtain. “Oh, of a monster !”laughing feebly Young Van Cleve lives in that -“ a human beast of prey that is in these cabin ?” mountains. Every time a branch moved Yes, with his wife and child.” I expected to see his murderous face “ A child ? Is it a boy?” coming toward his victim."
Yes, the dearest little fellow. Why She wanted to pour out the whole do you ask?” story, but he stood stolid and incurious, Å smile, or it might have been a asking no questions. She hesitated and nervous contortion, flickered over the stopped.
fat, amiable face. His tones became “I saw nobody," he said, composedly. exceedingly soft and lazy.
Whether he was interested or not, she “It is with Van Cleve I hail business must tell him. He was so wise and to settle. I have been looking for him kind; he was a man used to control a long time.” others. If he would interfere he could " Then you will come to the house doubtless put an end to it all.
with me? “It is a vendetta,” she began.
She would have passed on, but stopped, heard of it at the time of the accident." troubled and frightened, she knew not
" You should not allow yourself to be why. The man had not heard her ; he excited by the gossip of the mountains,” stood slowly stroking his heavy chin, he interrupted, gently; but his eyes, deliberating. Certainly there was nosmiling down at her, suddenly seemed to thing dramatic in the stout figure in her as hard and impenetrable as granite. its long linen coat, low hat, and boots · I fear I must leave you. I must reach sunk in the mud—there was not a trace Otoga before noon.
of emotion on the flabhy, apathetic “You must not go to Otoga," catching features, yet Lucy cowered as though him by the arm. “ The yellow fever is she had been brought face to face with a there. Half of the population are dead." naked soul in the crisis of its life.
“ Worse than that, I am afraid,” he “I have been looking for him a long said, gravely. “We heard this morning time,” he repeated, talking to himself. that there was now neither doctor, nurse, But there is Otoga. They need me in nor anybody to bury the dead."
Otoga." “ And you are going to help them ?" There was not a sound. Not the fall drawing back with a kind of awe. of a leaf. Even the incessant sough of “I am a doctor," he said, indifferently, the wind through the gorges was still
. “and I can nurse in a fashion, and if the The world seemed to keep silence. The worst comes to the worst, I can dig a time comes to every man when the devil grave."
of his life-long appetites and passions " I'm sure it is--very heroic,” gasped rises to face the God that is in him for a Lucy. The tears came to her eyes. final struggle.
He looked up at the cabin ; it was but his companion. “He's ben down doctorå step He had been following Van in' in Otoga. Went there voluntarily. Cleve for years.
He drew his breath I hearn of him two days ago.” After quickly once, thrust the bushes aside, an embarrassed pause, he added, “He and began to climb the rock.
wants to see you, Thomas. You personThe sun suddenly flashed out; a bird ally." fluttered up from the thicket, and * Me? Who is he?" (halting). perched on a bough close beside him, Dumfort lowered his voice to a quick sending out a clear trill of song. He whisper.
He whisper. " It's the man that's ben folstopped short, a quick, pleased heat lerin' you an' your'n, Thomas.” coming to his face.
Van Cleve uttered an oath, but it "Pretty little thing, hey? It knows choked on his lips. “An' he's dying? me, d'ye see? It's watching me.” What does he want of me?"
He waited a moment until the song *God knows, I don't.” The men stood ceased, and then nervously adjusted his silent. “ He's been doctorin' them pore hat.
souls in Otoga,” ventured Dumfort, pre"I'll go to those poor devils in Otoga. sently. I reckon that's the right thing to do.” Still Van Cleve did not move. Then, And turning, he hastily mounted his with a jerk, he started down-hill. “I'll horse.
go to him. Bring them other medicines, Lucy felt that he was going to his Dumfort.” death, and he seemed like an old friend. But when he reached the dying man She ran across the road and put her he saw that it was too late for medicines. hands up on the horse's neck.
He kneeled beside him and lifted his Good-bye,” she said.
head, motioning Dumfort to stand back “Good-bye, Miss Coyt.”
out of hearing. “I will never see you again! God What passed between them no one but bless you !"
God ever knew, “Me?” He looked at her, bewildered. As the sun was setting that day Van “God? Oh yes. Well, perhaps so." He Cleve came to the cabin. He was pale rode down the road, and the stout figure and haggard, but he tried to speak cheerand flapping linen coat disappeared in fully.
" It was a poor fellow, Dorcas, down Four days passed. Dumfort, who in the woods as died of the fever. appeared to be a man of leisure, lounged Dumfort an' I have buried him. But about the cabin, helping with the work, I'd like you an' Miss Coyt to come to and occasionally bringing news from the grave. It 'd seem kinder, someOtoga, gathered from some straggler who how." He carried the baby in his arms, was flying from the fever. He came in and when they reached the place-it one morning and beckoned Van Cleve out. was a patch of sunny sward, where the
“ There's one of them poor wretches birds sang overhead—he said: “Humpty, fallen by the wayside. He's got the I wish you'd kneel down on the grave plague. It's my belief there's not an an’ say your little prayer. I think he'd hour's life in him."
know, an' 'd feel better of it; an'—there's “I'll come.” Van Cleve hastily gath- another reason.” ered some simple remedies; he had not The next week Miss Coyt received a heroism enough to leave his family and letter from home, which, with very red sacrifice his life for his neighbours, but cheeks, she told Dorcas would compel he was a kindly fellow, and could not her immediate return home. Mr. Pettit, turn back from any dying creature of whom she had told her, had received creeping to his door. The two men a call, and had asked her to be his wife, went down the mountain together. and this would put an end to her experi
“I wanted,” said Dumfort, “ to pull ment of teaching in the South. him under a rock. But he said, “ No, let day or two Dumfort drove her back me die out-of-doors.'”
to Abingdon, and the little family in “ That was a queer notion."
the cabin returned to their usual quiet “ Yes.” Dumfort glanced askance at routine of life.
ing and announced to the Easy Chair smoke while walking with a lady in the that it had been made by common consent street. He will not smoke while paying arbiter of a dispute in a circle of young men. a visit in her drawing-room. He will
The question,” said he, “is not a new one not smoke while driving with her in the in itself, but it constantly recurs, for it Park.” is the inquiry under what conditions a It is significant of a radical change in gentleman may smoke in the presence of manners that such rules can be laid down, ladies?”
because formerly the question could not have The Easy Chair replied that it could not arisen. The grandfather of Apollodorus, answer more pertinently than in the words who was the flower of courtesy, could no of the famous Princess Emilia, who, upon more have smoked with a lady with whom he being asked by a youth who was attending was walking or driving than he could have her in a promenade around the garden, attended her without a coat or collar. Yet “What should you say if a gentleman asked manners change, and the grandfather must to smoke as he walked with you?” replied, not insist that those of his time were best “It is not supposable, for no gentleman because they were those of his time. It is would propose it.”
but a little while since a gentleman who Naturally that youth did not venture to appeared at a party without gloves would light even a cigarette. Emilia had parried have been a “queer ” figure. But now should his question so dexterously that, although he wear gloves he would be remarked as unthe rebuke was stinging, he could not even familiar with good usage. pretend to be offended. His question was It does not argue à decline of courtesy inerely a form of saying, “I am about to that the Grandisonian compliment and the smoke, and what have you to say?” That ineffable bending over a lady's hand and he asked the question was evidence of a lin- respectful kissing of the finger-tips have gering persuasion, inherited from an ances- yielded to a simpler and less stately manner.
of gentlemen, that it was not seemly to The woman of the minuet was not really puff tobacco smoke around a lady with whom more respected than the woman of the waltz. he was walking.
However the word gentlemanly may be Apollodorus was silent for a moment, as defined, it will not be questioned that the if reflecting whether this anecdote was to be quality which it describes is sympathetic regarded as a general judgment of the arbi- regard for the feelings of others and the ter that a gentleman will never_smoke in manner which evinces it. The manner, of the presence of a laily. But the Easy Chair course, may be counterfeited and put to base broke in upon his meditations with a ques-uses. To say that Lovelace has a gentletion, “ If you had a son should you wish to manly manner is not to say that he is a meet him smoking as he accompanied a lady gentleman, but only that he has caught the upon the Avenue? or, were you the father trick of a gentleman. To call him or Robert of a daughter, should you wish to see her Macaire or Richard Turpin a gentleman is cavalier smoking as he walked by her side ? to say only that he behaves as a gentleman Upon your own theory of what is gentle- behaves. But he is not a gentloman, unless manly and courteous and respectful and that word describes manners and nothing becoming in the manner of a man towards a woman, should you regard the spectacle with This is the key to the question of Apollosatisfaction ? "
dorus. It is not easy to define a gentleman, “Well,” replied Apollodorus, “ isn't that but it is perfectly easy to see that in his rather a high-flying view ? When can a pleasures and in the little indifferent pracman smoke
tices of society the gentleman will do nothing “ But you are not answering,” interrupted which is disagreeable to others. He certhe Easy Chair. “Of two youths walking tainly will not assume that a personal gratiwith your daughter, one of whom was fication or indulgence must necessarily be smoking a cigarette or a cigar, as he at- pleasant to others, nor will he make the tended her, and the other was not smoking, selfish habits of others a plea for his which would seem to you the more gentle- own. manly?"
Apollodorus listened patiently, and then “ The latter," said Apollodorus, promptly said slowly that he understood the judgment and frankly.
to be that a gentleman would smoke in the “ It appears, then," returned the Easy presence of ladies only when he knew that Chair, assuming the Socratic manner, that it was agreeable to them, but that, as the there are circumstances under which a infinite grace and courtesy of women often gentleman will not smoke in the presence of led them, as an act of self-denial, to persuade a lady. But to answer your question directly, themselves that what others wish to do it is not possible to prescribe an exact code, ought not to annoy them, it was very diffialthough certain conditions may be definitely cult to know whether the practice was or was
not offensive to any particular lady, and remember correctly, was published serially therefore-therefore
as letters in the Mirror. The youth seemed to be unable to draw The “ Pencillings” are memorable as the the conclusion.
first of the records of travel which deal with “ Therefore,” said the mentor," it is well audacious freedom with private life, revealto remember the old rule in whist."
ing what was not meant to be seen, and “ Which is—?” asked Apollodorus. reporting what not meant to be “When in doubt, trump the trick.” heard. They contain brilliant and graphic
“But what is the special application of sketches of the more famous English men that rule to this case?”
and women of the day, and their freedom “ Precisely this, that the doubting smoker was so astounding to the English taste should follow the advice of Punch to those that for a long time afterward any about to marry.”
American who could be suspected of con“ Which is—?” asked Apollodorus. nection with the press was received in “ Don't.”
English society with great reserve. Thack
eray more than once brought the burningTHE frontispiece to this number of the glass of his satire to bear upon Willis, Magazine, as the reader will have observed, but when he was in New York he met is a beautiful reduction by Robert Hoskin of Willis at breakfast at the house of a comone of Gustave Doré's illustrations of Poe's mon friend, and found him, as he frankly “ Raven," the legend of which is the line, said, exceedingly agreeable." But yet,” "The night's Plutonian shore.” The poem, said Thackeray, with his twinkling Engwith the complete series of illustrations by lish eye, “how could he have been so Doré, will be one of the most striking and bumptious ?” interesting of Messrs. Harpers' publications Willis was already forecasting the extreme for the autumn. At the Paris Salon of 1883 literary mannerism of his later time when two medals only were awarded for engraving Poe joined the literary circle in the city of on wood, and both were of the third class. New York. He was very soon its most M. Charles Baude, of Paris, the engraver of brilliant and erratic figure, even his affecthe portrait of Washington Irving which tations being of a kind to enhance the imwas published in the April number of this pression that he made. The immediate and Magazine, received one of the medals. The universal popularity of the “Raven” is other was received by Mr. Robert Hoskin, of without parallel in American literary history, the Harper engraving-room. Poe is a writer except in the case of Bret Harte's “ Heathen whose poems are curiously adapted to the Chinee.” It was instantly republished in peculiar skill of Doré, and the delicate and all the newspapers, and its long resounding sympathetic touch of Hoskin has exquisitely lines, which seemed to some critics to murreproduced in our engraving the character mur with something of the music of Mrs. of the original.
Browning's “ Lady Geraldine's Courtship,” The poem itself is one of the most familiar were soon repeated in all school declamations. and popular in American literature. It is The peculiar nomenclature of Poe and his nearly forty years since it was first published, phantasmal world were skilfully wrought soon after Poe's removal to New York in into the poem, and there were many eager 1814, and Willis hailed it as the most effec- readers in whose minds the ingenuous tive single example of fugitive poetry ever melody of the stanzas constantly echoed and published in America, and for certain quali- reverberated, who felt that here was a new ties unsurpassed in English poetry. The poet, and another grace, if not glory, of generous critic proved the sincerity of his American letters. opinion by engaging Poe as assistant editor The remarkable talent and acuteness, the of the Mirror.
felicity of phrase, and the alluring rhythm That name recalls the literary situation in of much of Poe's verse are obvious to the New York at that time. The Mirror was a most cursory reader, like the singular skill small quarto published weekly under the with which his prose tales are constructed. joint editorship for many years of Willis But there was from the first a large number and George P. Morris, with whom Theodore of readers who felt that it was all a marvellous S. Fay, and later James Parton and other ingenuity, not a sincere inspiration, and who familiar writers, were editorially associated. cannot even now admit his claim to a higher It was a publication which, with a certain worth. Perhaps such critics feel that the typographical elegance as certifying its adap- entablature which in memory of Poe is to tation to the most refined social circles, be unveiled during the autumn is much offered every Saturday a light repast, un- more appropriate than a statue to indicate vexed by heavy dishes of political or any the place that he holds in the American other grave discussion, but graced with the literary Pantheon. sweet trifle and whipped syllabub of evanes- How fascinating he must have been to an cent literature. The most important con- artist like Doré, as he has proved to be to tribution to the Mirror was Willis's “ Pen- the French mind in general, is evident to cillings by the Way,” which work, if we l any one who is but superficially familiar
VOL. LXVII.-No. 400.-40.