PUPPETS THROUGH AMERICA
in the early " fifties ". With other people he had come to
drink of the yellow spring, and had liked the district so much
that he had bought a house and settled down as a country
gentleman. He sent to England for blooded horses, beautiful
furniture, wall hangings and fine china.
Grandfather and Mr. Michael struck up a nodding
acquaintance as they passed on the road, the one in a plain,
old buckboard, the other on horseback. From this they
grew to conversations, which were usually held as they sat
on the edge of a pump trough. From these conversations
Grandfather came to the conclusion that Mr. Michael was
quite a gentleman in spite of his English defects, and Mr.
Michael was heard to say :
" By gad! Mr. Gates is a gentleman if he is just a farmer.
Damme, sir! Gates has good blood in his veins. Damme,
sir! He's a gentleman 1"
But Clement Westerbrook Michael was a mystery. He
informed no one as to who he was, and no one had the
courage to ask him. But imagination got to work, and, as
most of his letters bore a coat-of-arms, the legend became
firmly established that he was connected with an English
duke, on the wrong side of the blanket, or that he was a
son of Lord Byron!
Anyhow, he lived very happily until he fell in love with
a particularly lovely girl. During a brief courtship he man-
aged to present her with a Broadwood piano costing over a
thousand dollars, a gold watch set with jewels and a necklace
of gold and sapphires. During this period the conversations
progressed from the pump trough to sitting in the bam and
discussing his happiness—but, the night before the wedding,
the girl ran off with another man and married him. That
was the end of, the Gilbertian Clement Westerbrook Michael,
for he died very quickly of a broken heart.