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Roads of Destiny

hesitated to exert it in your behalf whenever opportunity offered. And you have deserved it, William. You’ve been the best of sons. And now this appomtment comes to take you away from me. I have but a few years left to live. I am almost dependent upon others now, even in walking and dressing. What would I do without you my son?”

The Governor’s pipe dropped to the floor. A tear trickled from his eye. His voice had risen, and crumbled to a weakling falsetto, and ceased. He was an old, old man about to be bereft of the son that cherished him.

Billy rose, and laid his hand upon the Governor’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, father,” he said, cheerfully. “I’m not going to accept. Elmville is good enough for me. I’ll write to-night and decline it.”

At the next interchange of devoirs between the Governor and General Deffenbaugh on Lee Avenue, His Excellency, with a comfortable air of self-satisfaction, spoke of the appointment that had been tendered to Billy.

The General whistled.

“That’s a plum for Billy,” he shouted. “Who’d have thought that Billy—but, confound it, it’s been in him all the time. It’s a boost for Elmville. It’ll send real estate up. It’s an honour to our state. It’s a compliment to the South. We’ve all been blind about Billy. When does he leave? We must have a reception. Great Gatlings! that job’s eight thousand a year! There’s been a car-load of lead-pencils worn to stubs figuring on those appointments. Think of it! Our little, wood-