7. VII.
A ROMANCE.—WILLIAM BARKER, THE YOUNG
PATRIOT
I.
“No, William Barker, you cannot have my daughter's
hand in marriage until you are her equal in
wealth and social position.”
The speaker was a haughty old man of some sixty
years, and the person whom he addressed was a fine-looking
young man of twenty-five.
With a sad aspect the young man withdrew from
the stately mansion.
II.
Six months later the young man stood in the presence
of the haughty old man.
“What! you here again?” angrily cried the old
man.
“Ay, old man,” proudly exclaimed William Barker.
“I am here, your daughter's equal and yours?”
The old man's lips curled with scorn. A derisive
smile lit up his cold features; when, casting violently
upon the marble centre table an enormous roll of
greenbacks, William Barker cried—
“See! Look on this wealth. And I've tenfold
more! Listen, old man! You spurned me from your
door. But I did not despair. I secured a contract
for furnishing the Army of the—with beef—”
“Yes, yes!” eagerly exclaimed the old man.
“—and I bought up all the disabled cavalry
horses I could find—”
“I see! I see!” cried the old man. “And good
beef they make, too.”
“They do! they do! and the profits are immense.”
“I should say so!”
“And now, sir, I claim your daughter's fair hand!”
“Boy, she is yours. But hold! Look me in the
eye. Throughout all this have you been loyal?”
“To the core!” cried William Barker.
“And,” continued the old man, in a voice husky
with emotion, “are you in favor of a vigorous prosecution
of the war?”
“I am, I am!”
“Then, boy, take her! Maria, child, come hither.
Your William claims thee. Be happy, my children!
and whatever our lot in life may be,
let us all support
the Government!”
