Pre-occupied with his experiments and bothered by the attempts of his housekeeper to keep order in his ramshackle library-cum-laboratory of a house.
To feed mankind!
Stocks and Bonds, Agricultural Science.
Aliases / Nicknames
'The Professor' 'Farmer Brown' 'The odd Farmer'
Residential Area of Kalispell.
Kith & Kin
None in this world.
Born 3rd June 1816, Amherst, MASS, where his Father taught Agricultural Studies.
After numerous office jobs, young F.F. found his way to New York, banking and the burgeoning stock market after the big crash of '37. Indirectly profiting from the Slavery of the South and the arms race of the War Years, F.F. Browne sold up in 1867 and returned to his early interest in Agriculture and Scientific progress in the pursuit of happiness for all mankind.
In 1874, in order to find peace and quiet to work in, and to try out his theories, he moved to the remote township of Kalispell, Montana.
Falmer Browne is a gentleman of some breeding and refinement, rich enough and sated enough on the 'blood money' as he calls it, that he accrued in the past, to be completely unambitious in everything except his pursuit of the Benefit of All Mankind. He is a vegetarian for Scientific reasons. He is rather fond of the ladies, but gallant and courteous, and tries not to let them distract him from his important work..
"Uncle Isiah, this is Professor Brown, he lives behind us, where Miss Jemima does. He has spiders and crickets and snakes and gophers..." Well, he did have a gopher!
"Thanks, Weedy." He could tell that Mr. Brown must be a nice man or Weedy wouldn't have been so happy to see him.
Falmer Brown chortled indulgently. "I must admit, Mr Chappel, that Master James is correct in his resume of my small collection of local fauna, but Miss Wigfall is only a peripatetic visitor; I fear no cage could quite contain her; she is a most remarkably strong young woman." he let Isiah know.
He could hardly have an unmarried young woman living under the same roof as himself unchaperoned, even if she was rather too unattractive for anyone to believe that there could be any impropriety involved.
"Jemima's in the back now helping Addy get cleaned up." He stepped to the side showing where they were in the process of setting the table and the nice pie that Jemima brought over. "Won'tcha stay fer dinner?" He asked.
"Oh, I wouldn't want to deprive you of, er, ...." He demurred politely although, to be fair, the ingredients in the pie had originally been intended for his tummy!
"There's plenty. Jemima brought over a steak pie." He smiled as Josh came over from setting the last plate in it's place, standing beside his Pa he waved at the gentlemen and in a small voice "Hi." He said as he hid a bit behind his father's leg, always shy at first around new folks.
"Oh, well, if you insist!" Browne hadn't been hard to convince to stay, that was for sure.
"And who is this young gentleman?" he asked, bending down and smiling benignly at Josh.
"I'm Isiah Chappel." He extended his hand to greet the man. "Addy's brother. Just arrived about a week or so ago." He quickly let the gentleman know of his sister's well being.
Browne's face was a picture of worry: he had been away collecting geological samples for a week and knew nothing of Addy's long lost brother coming to live with her. Had her brother been called here because of some family tragedy? Had Addy not escaped totally unscathed from her savage captors?
Chronologically, it didn't make logical sense, but the older man couldn't help but feel disquiet over the brother's presence.
On the other hand... at least it wasn't a new boyfriend, popped up in the morning dew like a mushroom to replace Jay Ryker.
"And Addy is just fine. Physically at least." He had no idea what kind of mental toll this might take on her. She was tough though and he knew she's bounce back.
Well, that was a relief! And that relief showed on Falmer Browne's features.
"Mighty kind of ya to come and check on her." He said with a nod of his head.
"Oh, think nothing of it, my dear Mr Chappel" Browne shook his head in turn. "Your sister is very, very dear to me, I mean, to all of us, the whole community!" he corrected himself, not wanting to sound too creepy.
There was an urgent knock on the front door followed by the sound of someone boldly letting themselves into the house, a man's voice - a well spoken one, too - no hobbledehoy this - grew loud as it approached the kitchen, which was the hub and hearth of this household.
"Miss Chappel! Miss Chappel? Miss Chappel, are you there!" it called, in quite a state of agitation. "Miss Chappel, I have just heard... oh!" The tall, spindly figure of Mr. F. Falmer Browne, often inappropriately labelled The Professor by the denizens of Kalispell, due to his reclusive habits and odd agricultural and geological enthusiasms and erudite studies, skidded to a halt at the threshold of the kitchen proper.
The sight of Isiah seemed to puzzle him enough for the man to screw up his eyes and stoop forward to make sure he wasn't seeing what he hoped he wasn't seeing.
He looked relieved. It wasn't his rival in love, the odious Ryker, returned! But there was always the worry that this might be some new paramour, again, younger and more attractive than himself!
"Oh, how do you do? I am Miss Chappel's next door neighbour, Falmer Brown. I have just been appraised of the most execrable news of that fair lady's incarceration by the savages of the plain! Er, you are...?"
Addy pondered for a moment, then grinned and nodded. "A'right, then, sounds like a right good arrangement, although I'd be remiss not ta pay her somethin'." She reckoned she could work that out with the young lady.
Felix gave Addy an avuncular smile and shook his head slightly. "Oh, I doubt the young lady I am thinking of would be at all interested in any form of remuneration, Adelaide. In fact, if I have read her aright, the arrangement will be rewarding for her in a much more profound and, dare I say, spiritual way." he said, sounding a little more mysterious than he really intended to.
But then her nose wrinkled up."It ain't Miss Mudd, is t? Not that I got nothin' against th' child, but she'd like as not end up in th' manure pile eventually!"
Browne frowned. "Mudd? Mudd? ... Oh! Is that the rather hoydenish girl with whom you had the slight contretemps at the Ladies' Society meeting?" As something of a recluse, Browne hardly ever visited either the Saloon or the Church and was therefore, apart from the aforementioned incident, blissfully unaware of the antics of the little pest Arabella.
"By no means. The young lady I am thinking of is extremely well educated and well mannered and, I believe, in dire need of a worthy project to distract her from her woes. It is not my place to mention names, but if I were to inform you that the poor girl recently lost her father in the most horrible and distressing of circumstances, you may well hazard a guess." Browne intoned, aiming to calm Addy's fears. "I hope that such a person might be acceptable to you."
Laughing, she shrugged and held out her glass for another refill. "Deal! Now I got Weedy ta look after, I gotta be more educated, I reckon, so's now's as good a time as any. An' I know Weedy'd love ta come over an' help you with...whatever it is yer doin' here. Be good fer th' lad."
"Very good!" beamed Browne, refilling their glasses, only a slight pang of regret that he had done the decent thing in attempting to help Miss Chappel and Miss Orr all in one fell swoop, without indulging his own selfish desires.
[OOC: I'll start a new thread, set about a week or so later, with Anæsthesia calling on Addy for the first lesson]
"Need someone ta show me once an' fer all how ta read an' write. Can't go no longer not knowin' that. Reckon I could talk to th' school marm." She'd seemed a nice sort and had held her own against adversity.
Browne's blurted reply might well have been predicted: "Oh, my dear Miss Chappel, I myself would be only too happy to..."
He stopped himself at the precipice, and teetered at its edge.
Could he trust himself? Could he attempt to teach this beautiful young woman, this beautiful, engaged woman to read and write without falling hopelessly, foolishly further in love with her? The very idea was grotesque, silly. He was an old man; he had dedicated the remainder of his life to science, to relieving the suffering of mankind. No, he could not risk it.
"... to arrange a private tutor for you." He heaved a secret sigh of relief. He had done it. He had resisted temptation.
"There is a young person of my acquaintance whom I believe has all the necessary literary qualifications for the task and, more importantly, the correct..." he struggled for the right phrase "... the right heart. There would be no cost involved..." he assumed that money might be tight around the Chappel household at the moment with Jay away and a growing boy to feed.
There was a clatter next door and Felix, deigning to read Addy's mind, quickly added.
"This is no silly girl like Jemima of whom I speak, Adelaide, but a very proper young woman only a few years younger than yourself." he claimed, rather generously, to the 29 year old. "We could arrange for a two week trial period, and then the two of you could let me know whether you both wish to continue. If not, then there will be no embarrassment on either side."
Falmer Browne said all this in as easy-going manner as possible: though he realised that when it came down to it, being taught by a younger woman might actually be quite an ordeal for the grown up, self reliant, independent woman who sat before him.
"Don't reckon as I blame her." Addy shrugged. "S'why I don't put much stock in love." She could do without Jay, she'd been fine before he'd shown up, and she'd be just fine...until he came back.
Falmer Browne found himself in something of an invidious position. On the one hand, he somewhat agreed with Jemima's assessment: that such a letter was possibly a comfortable way out for a man who was getting cold feet about marriage and settling down. He was also delighted to have a love rival out of the way, no matter how hopeless his own romantical plans were, even without competition.
On the other hand, he had the utmost sympathy for Addy, and for Weedy too, for that matter. And it seemed hard that Ryker had not even deigned to give an exact date for his return that Addy could at least pin her hopes on. 'Acouple of months' was vague, when did that become 'a few months'?
He tried to be comforting.
"I am sure that Mr Ryker will return very soon" he said somewhat stiffly "'Absence makes the heart grow fonder' and all that!" he added, though he could equally have repeated the old adage 'Out of sight, out of mind'.
"Gonna be hard on Weedy, though. He's got a fondness fer Jay, an' he'll miss him while he's gone."
"Well, we must occupy his mind, and your own, until Mr Ryker returns!" the scientist counselled breezily. "You and he are always welcome around here. Young Master Porter seemed to be quite interested in my small menagerie and, for all her strange ideas, Miss Wigfall seems to have an odd affinity with the lad." he offered. He felt a little guilty, for there was definitely an element of selfish interest in his invitations.
"Afternoon, F...Falmer....Mr. Browne..." She wasn't sure what to call him...'F' seemed odd, 'Falmer' was his second name, and 'Mr. Browne' was awful formal for neighbors.
"Oh, please, Miss Chappel, call me Felix: no formality between good neighbors, eh?" he replied jovially before waving the bottle of whiskey queryingly in her direction.
"Yes, sir, I'd more'n be happy with a bit'a fortification, can always do with that!"
"Fortification. Yes. Good word! I... too... shall fortify." he said as he carefully poured a generous bumper of the good stuff for each of them and handed the drink over with all the assiduous attention of a high class waiter in a fancy restaurant.
"Now then..." he risked it "Adelaide, is this a purely social visit, or is there something that you would like to discuss?" Oooh, it felt so thrilling to use her Christian name.
Nothing like whisky to still the nerves, and it would be a sin to turn down the 'good stuff'. "I was thinkin' ta ask a favor, if it ain't too much a imposition."
"I am entirely at your service." came the instant reply, Browne sweeping an arm and bowing slightly to further indicate his complete and utter willingness to render any aide that the entrancing diamond in the rough might desire.
Jay watched the paint drop onto his immaculately polished boot. and shook his head.
"You wouldn't stand a chance. But you're lucky. I'm not gentleman and I won't be duelling you. Not for this. If you were actually in love with Adelaide and wanted to court her...maybe."
"You won't fight, Sir?!" This idea was somewhat beyond F. Falmer Browne's sphere of comprehension. Was the man part of some strange pacifist religion, like the German Bretherin perhaps?
He took the pain brush from the mans hand and set it down so it wouldn't mark up his shoes any more. "You can have the first punch, though!" Now it was Jay's tone that had become self assured and mocking.
"Oh! Fisticuffs, eh?! Very well, as the challenged party, you have choice of weapons, of course. And I am willing to dispense with seconds if you are. You will have to pick up your own teeth from the sidewalk!" Browne warned, pulling off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.
So, she was stomping back, and in time to see the men squaring up.
Browne, for his part had taken a scientific stance, legs bent and akimbo, first circling somewhat ridiculously looking in front of him in pure textbook style.
"Come come! I'll have you know I used to box at Amhurst! I took the Bronze Medal at the 1838 intercollege bout, I'll soon settle your hash, you brute!" F.F. taunted, circling round and making feints and jabs that nearly put his back out of kilter.
But Addy had other ideas.
"Ain't gonna be no duelin'!" she declared as she barged between the two, "an' th' only one doin' any punchin'll be me!" To that end, she gave F. Falmer a firm jab in the chest.
"Ow! That hurt." he complained, rubbing the afflicted area.
"You, go home before I do somethin' I'll enjoy!"
"But... he snatched my brush!" protested Falmer Browne weakly, before sighing "Very well. Miss Chappel, Mr Ryker." he gave them both a small stiff bow and sloped off, then had to step back and retrieve his jacket from the steps before trying again.
"An' you," now it was Jay's turn, "ya come with me, if ya ever did have any feelin's fer me, an' I know ya did, an' I you, so jest...C'mon, let's talk this out."
There was too much at stake to just let this go...
Rather than withdraw his slanderous slur, Mr. Ryker compounded it further.
"You have a sleazy grin, sly tongue and not much to back it up is what I think so you need to go around and steal other mens ..." What could he call her without saying too much. "...treasures."
"You have gone too far Sir. How dare you! How very dare you?!! To imply, that I ... with ... your treasures! I..." Falmer Browne spluttered with wounded dignity. "You will withdraw those comments, Sir, or suffer the consequences!"
"Bring on the consequences. I dare you."
Ryker's paintbrush wielding rival turned suddenly from red-faced outrage to a sort of pale faced calm, as he pulled himself up to his full height and became very calm. The die was cast. There was no choice but death before dishonour.
"Very well." he said, looking down his nose at Jay "As a gentleman, you offer me no other choice. You will please name your second, and my second, Mr..." Oh crikey, who could he name as his second? Being something of a recluse he didn't really have any male friends that he could rely on to hold his coat in a duel of honour. Oh, there was the lad who delivered him farm produce sometimes! He'd have to do.
"My second, Mr Jacob Lutz, will wait upon your second." He stood waiting to hear who Ryker's second would be as a blob of paint dripped onto his boot.
"I will be accompanying the two." Jay clerified in a slightly threatening tone.
"Oh! How very reassuring for them both." Browne replied and gave a little smile as if he had said something very amusing which he, but not Jay, could understand. Ah! The self satisfied smile of sarcasm: the last refuge of the scoundrel!
But then Addy changed the course of the conversation.
"Jack Ryker, if ya got a problem with me havin' friends what are men, ya'd best leave now!" she declared, facing that particular victim. "Ain't no cause fer it, an' if yer gonna git all gizzard up 'bout it, I ain't gonna stand fer it. 'Sides, just says ya don't trust me, an' I don't need that kinda grief!"
F. Falmer Browne lowered his brush and looked with mock pity on Jay, or Jack, or perhaps 'Jackass' Ryker as he received his well deserved (probably) dressing down by the fiery beauty of the Buckboard. He even allowed himself a sad, but self satisfied, shake of his head, as if to say 'poor fellow, he just doesn't know how to handle women!'
Then... she started on him!
"An' you..." now she turned on F. Falmer, "ya know I ain't available, so's I don't even know why yer fussin'." She shrugged. "An' here I thought you were bein' a friend, wantin' ta help 'cause yer...a friend."
Browne gave a little squeak of shock and nearly dropped his brush. "I... I..." he stammered, quite taken aback as she stormed off.
The way she had talked to him just because another guy intruded on his territory made him angry.
"My name's Jay!"
Falmer Brown scratched his head and disagreed. "I rather believe that your name is mud at this point in time, and mine also! But by God, what a magnificent woman "
He called after her.
When she didn't turn back he faced the unwanted guest instead.
Falmer Browne watched Miss Chappel stalk off with regret, wonderful sight though she was from all angles. "Oh dear, well, you made rather a mess of that, I'm afraid." said Browne with his usual mixture of pretend regret and secret satisfaction.
"well done. You made her mad!"
"ME?!" blustered Browne, "I will have you know that I was helping!" He held up his paintbrush as if to prove it.
"What a great help you were. Trying to sweet talk her with you lemonade, handsome clothes and sleazy smile."
"Sleazy?!" repeated Browne, almost dropping his brush with injured dignity "How dare you, Sir! How dare you! You will take that back; you will take that back this instant... or suffer the consequences!"
Yes, this was fast becoming an affair of honour!!
Sagas of the WIld West is a roleplaying game set in a fictionalized version of the town of Kalispell in Montana territory. Our stories begin in 1875 and are set against the backdrop of actual historical events.Sagas was inspired by the classic television and movie westerns. Our focus is on writing, storytelling and character development.
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