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OUR SHORT STORY. ¡.

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OUR SHORT STORY. ¡ CIRCUMVENTED. The only secret in the household of Mr. and Mrs. John Amory did not belong to them. but had been entrusted to their keeping by Charles Charlton, an old friend of both. who was generally accounted a. ne'er-do-well. Charlie Charlton, before he grew bitter, used to say when anybody asked if there was euch a thing as luck in the world, that there existed plenty of bad luck, as his career proved, and it is true that, despite certain advantages of birth and education, this young man was born, or appeared to have been born. under an unlucky star. Hia father was a rich man, and Charlie was his only child, yet the stem. taciturn, and gloomy father never sought to win his boy's love, and seemed not to demand his confi- dence. The boy. therefore, started handi- capped in life despite material advantages. "Until I was sixteen years old." the young man used to say. I don't believe my father arer knew whether I went to school or not. He used to see me at breakfast and dinner, but never exchanged a dozen words with me at either meal. If it hadn't been for poor old Margaret, who had charge of the house since my mother's death, he wouldn t have known if I needed clothes. But I did go to school— a public school—because all the other children in our neighbourhood went, and if I had remained at home I should have died of lone- liness. So I never missed a day. Much good my punctuality did me." The elder Charlton was attorney for a few e«ber and safe corporations, and nearly every night closeted himself in his library with a mass of paper3. He was troubled with very little company, and until a. taste for the theatre developed in hia son. that youth used to dawdle about, fall asleep in the dining- room. and find the hour between dinner and bed-time distressingly long. During the period of his callow time Charlie began to try to copy pictures from the illustrated papers, and it was not very long before he fancied himself an artist. With the first scratches of hia untutored pencil old Margaret proclaimed him a "born painter." In fact. with consideralbe fear of the result, but with determination, the faithful soul knocked at the library door one night and showed Mr. Charlton an example of hia son's talent. The result justified her fear. The rugged old man pooh-poohed the effort, tore it up. and said: "Send him to bed; he can't waste his time so badly if he's asleep." Shortly after this Charles turned his eigh- teenth birthday, and his father sent for him to come into the library. SJarsraret was the messenger, and she found trie lad sprawling over the dining-table. with water-colours mixed in the saucers, and engaged in copy- ing in colour Da Vinci's "Last Supper"—no less. "Your father wants you—what do you be doin ?" said Margaret all in one breath. "Look a.t that," exclaimed Charlie oon- fidently. "Isn't it good?" The rloth is am like linen as two paze," said Margaret admiringly; "but. ah. the mess you're makin'. Run away in with yon. The master wants you." '*My father?" "Yes. an' I think he'll be wantin' to send you to school." "Bolly!" said Charlie, rising hastily, and in his excitement overturning a saucer of paint on his coat. He wiped it off with a napkin, while Kargaret scolded, lamented, a.nd advised all at once. "Go and change your coa.t, there's a dear," she said. "What's the use. Margaret?" answered the boy: "he'll never notice." Mr. Charlton's proposition was to take C^ irhe into hie law office. "I suppose you can read and write," he said grimly, "and if you have any brains at all I'll teaeh you to reason." "Yes. sir. I can read and write." said Cha.rlie sullenly (he was always at his worst in his father's presence), "but I don't want to learn the other thing." "What, to rea80n?" "No, sir. to be a lawyer." "Probably you would like to go to college? Well, you can't. I don't believe in it. What do yon want to make of yourself?" "I'd like to be an artist," said Charlie. "An artist—to draw pictures like the one MaTgaret showsd me? Nonsense. Put that out of your head—it will never buy your salt. If you don't want to accept my offer. I'll not force you. Stay on at the high school for a year longer, and then decide on what you'll work at, for I promise y.ou you'll have to work. I did." This ended the interview—an unsatisfactory one to both parties, for it convinced Charlie that his father hated him. and it confirmed the father in his impression that his son was a dunce. Its worst effect, however, was to bolster up Margaret's belief that her boy was a born painter. Charlie had some doubts about this until his father's rough speech: after that he felt positive that nature and fate both intended him to be an artist. Hitherto he had made but little progress under a process of self-tuition which consisted mainly in copying from pictures and colour- ing his outlines "out of his own head." Now he decided to procure instruction, and sur- reptitiously he did so. That was mistake number one in poor Charlie Charlton's career. A little considera- tion, a. little sympathy, might have shown him the error he was making before too many years had been wasted, but his father gave him neither, and at twenty the boy had his way. Six months afterwards he opened a little studio, furnished it with the queer flotsam and jetsam of an artist's life. and began to paint "au serieux." Mr. Charlton had agreed to allow his son a small income, and it was paid to him promptly. At this period Charlie. as everybody called him. seemed to be perfectly happy. It is true that he never, by any chance, sold a picture, but this was only a crumpled rose leaf, for Charlie used to laugh and say frankly that hia works weren't worth a purchase. A couple of years of studio life. some debts, of course, some complications, and then young Charlton made another mistake-the crowning one. When his fortunes were at their lowest ebb he married his own model. The elder Charlton. when he heard of this etep, promptly stopped the allowance, and cut his son's name out of his will. That might have been endured, but the marriage itself was most unhappy. Nobody ever said a kind word about the young wife, but she may have been driven to it by poverty. At all events, she went on in the chorus of a musical comedy, and. as her figure had grown too blowsy to serve any longer for an artist's model, it was, perha.ps, the only thing she could do. But, if all that was reported was true, she found the temptations to lead a free-and-easy life too great to overcome. Young Charlton was aeked to leave his studio, where he had difficulty to meet the rent, and all on account of the visits paid him by a boisterous wife. After this sort of thing had been going on for a couple of years, Charlton, who had been best man a.t the wedding of the Amorys, went out to their modest little cottage at Scarboro. and seemed to be in a. most depressed and sombre mood. "I'm going to cut the whole thing, and try Paris for a year," he said to his friends. "Perhaps over there I'll learn how to dra.w. Everybody criticises my drawing." "Are you going alone?" queried Rose Amory tremulously, for she hoped he was catting his disgraceful wife as well. "Oh. yes." said Charlton. lIe spent the afternoon with the pair and remained to dinner. At its close, he handed John Amory a small package, like a jeweller's box. and said: "This ia my only treasure, and, as you two are my only friends, I'm going to ask you to take charge of it. Keep it safely for me for a year, will you? If at the end of that time I haven't reclaimed the box. destroy it." John and Rose promised, and. soon after. Charlton took his leave, and his sympathetic friends had a chance to talk over his wasted life. Rose's curiosity about the treasure was very great, and she fairly tingled to open the box and see what it contained; but John. solemnly looked it up in a drawer in the tiny library- table, and there it reposed for a year. During the twelve months nothing was heard from Charlton, although his friends wondered sadly if he was getting on or growing poorer and more hopeless all the time. But towards the close of the year great events happened. ..First, the newspaper published accounts of sad ending in Bellevue Hospital of Mabel Charlton. a once promising soubrette, and John and Roe-e knew. if few other people did. that one of the fetters of their friend had been broken by death. Then they saw an advertisement for Charles Charlton or knowledge of his whereabouts in one of the daily papers. About the same date they learned that old Mr. Charlton had died. They put the two facts together, and came to the conclusion that the elder Charlton had forgiven hia son on his death-bed. Next day John Amory called at the lawyer's address, which had been given in the news- paper. and told about Charlton's intention to go abroad. He learned that wha<t he had sur- mised was true, and a goodly inheritance had fallen to Charles Charlton from his father. "I will have the notice printed in the Paris journals." said the lawyer, "and no doubt we shall soon hea.r from the young man." Greatly rejoicing. John went home to Roee. "Isn't it splendid, John?" she cried. "I don't know any one I'd like to see happy more than poor Charlie Charlton." Then she thought for a moment and finally said: 'The year is up. Can't we look at his treasure now?" "But he will probably soon return now," replied her husband. "Hadn't we better wait until he does?" "John Amory," said Rose tragically, "I've waited a year to see what that box holds, and I can't contain my curiosity any longer." The upshot of the argument was that in a few minutes Rose held tihe package in her hand. Do yon suppose it contains a. jewel?" she asked- "Nonsense," JQJaa. "1.1 Oariia had owned a jewel of price, it would have gone to the pawnbroker's long ago." The outside wrapping was taken off and a small jeweller's box was revealed. On opening it, inside was found, reposing in cotton, what looked like an ordinary lump of sugar. "It*8 a hoax!" cried Rose. "So it looks," said John, "but why should Charlie have spoken so solemnly about it." "John," cried ROBe suddenly. "I wonder if it can 00-" then she paused. "What isit you are wondering?" asked John. But Rose only looked thoughtful for a few moments. When she spoke again it was to say: "I'll give Charlie Charlton a piece of my mind for fooling me so. If he does not return soon without knowing anything of his good fortune. I mean to tease him by keeping him in suspense. Promise me. John, that you will let me tell about the money his father left him. Promise you won't tell first." John promised, and the treasure (?) was re- packed and again locked up in the library drawer. Next day, while Rose was out marketing, who should come in to John but Charlie Charlton. brat looking so shabby, so old, and so worn that his friend was shocked. "It a no use," said the traveller. "I can't get on. I never will have a chance. I've tried everything and cannot earn enough to more than keep body and soul together. I'm a derelict." John smiled to think that Charlie little knew his chance bad come at last. He prayed for Rose to return, and tell the good news, for. as he had promised to let her tell it. he meant to keep his word. "Did you know your wife was dead?" he asked. Charlton smiled bitterly. "A man must have sunk pretty low," he said, "when even that is good news. But I come for another purpose. I come for my box—my treasure. Have you got it still?" "Yes." said John, unlocking the drawer and handing it to Charlton, who unwrapped it. took out the lump of sugar, and solemnly swallowed it. "Good-bye. old man," she said to John. "I must be going. I don't want to die in the house." "Die gasped John. "Then that was poison! "Yes." eaid Charlton. "a deadly poison; I will be gone in an hour: through for ever with this miserable failure of life. I wanted to take it a year ago. but I promised myself another trial. I've had it. and failed. Good-bye!" "You shan't go." shouted John. "Is there no antidote? Why, man. your father is dead: ne tert you all ins money!" Charlie Charlton's face turned livid. "Oh, if you had told me that a few minutes before "I would, but I had promised Eose "Eose—who is talking of me?" said that young woman, running into the room. "Rose. Rose." cried her husband, "he has eaten that lump of sugar!" "Well, what of it?" "It's poison!" "Nonsense," said Rose, "it's not poison. Perhaps the one Charlie left here was; but this is out of my own sugar-bowl. When I saw that lump of sugar I suspected something like this, so I just threw it into the fire and sub- stituted another. Charlie Charlton's colour returned slowly. He drew a long breath, and cried devoutly— "Thank Heaven!" Yon had better thank Rose," said her hus- band.

BETTING CASE COLLAPSES.

COUNTY SCHOOLS ASSOCIATION.

SUNDAY DRINKING AT CAERPHILLY

RAILWAY COMPANY FINED.

CARDIFF TEETOTALERS AND ITHE…

NAMES OF THft SUGGESTED MEMBERS.

VICARAGE OF LLANDILO. -

INTIMIDATION CASES AT RISCA.

PAWNBROKER CENSURED.

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COLOFN Y CYMRY ] f! ..

DOMESTIC ""INFELICITY.

FARMERS AT LOGGERHEADS.

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BISHOP FERRAB. .

ABERY STWITH TOWN COUNCIL

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