The Cedarville Herald, Volume 12, Numbers 27-52

The Cedarville Herald. W. J t BLAIR, Publisher. CEDARVITXB , OHIO. THE FAMILY CLOCK. Tibk'tock I* Its monotone; la movement listless as a drone; 'With vlsttgo like the stolid rook— . The Old Time Ploco, the Family Clock. summons its enfeebled powers • And hammers out the languid boars; Js can not pause, It has no choice; ■Who wonders a t Its tired voloof . ' The quicken'd pulse of life without, The happy laugh, the ringing about. . Can stir no echo In Its breast;: » Is so worn. It covets reBt. Stray bees came buzzing through the door; Gay sunbeams dance about the floor, The Old Clock, weary of Itself) Ticks on upon tho inantel shell By day the fireside Is bright; But muffled in the solemn nlgbt What phantoms must-the Old Clock see 1 As It tioks on thus drearily. , It saw the babes like flowers spring To graoe the hearth and round It cling, TUI some outgrew the Bale homo-neat - And somo In graves were laid to re st I t saw the rosy darlings fade; Baw the mother supplant the maid; I t beard and saw the wedding cheer; ttfe lt the hush when death drew near! A circle round the warm hearthstone Onco listened to its monotone; ’Tls broken now and scattered wide. Two only haunt the fireside. The Old Ctock sees them linger on, . Two shadows of a substance gone; And as they hover near tbo Are; What wonder that Its tones should tlrof —Mrs. N, B. Morango.tu Arkhnsaw Traveler. R R O M A N C E T W O B R O T H E R S . BY EDGAK FAWCETT, A uthor of “T he confessions of C laud ," “Asr A mbitious ■W oman ,’* “T he E vil T hat M en do ," “A M ew Y ork F amily ,”'E tc . LCopyrlght, 1SB0, By Edgar Fawcett] CHAPTER V.— C ontinued . “You have called this conception of your father’s ‘uncanny,’ Suppose hun- dredsof other people—thousands, mill­ ions, if you will—should look on it as a priceless blessing. Would you be right In keeping it from, their possession be­ cause of that personal prejudice which your mother instilled into your mind when you were a mere half-grown boy?” ’ He knit his brows. “What is this?” he demanded harshly. “Who told you of any such act on my mother’s part? Thorndyke, no doubt.” “Lhave guessedmore than Dr. Thom- ’ dyke told me/’Lucia raid. * 8ylvon chose now to rise. He walked toward the door, slipping both hands behind him with a sortofnon-committal morosoness—as who should say: “1de­ cline farther speech on this affair, though what I'have heard has been highly aggravating.” He left, the dining-room, and Lucia felt that for the first time theyhad stood on the verge of an open quarrel. And howwould it end? She must have that packet; her very palms had begun to itch and tinglo for it. With burning eheeka and lowered head she sat for more than an hour in her own dressing- room, .and brooded upon this avid long­ ing which had 'seemed to grow as firmly 'Wed to her spirit as its color to her blood. Ho use to try and laugh away EgbertMaynard’s whole' aspiration as the dream of a mod chemist. While ahe now thought upon her own past life she understood how there had alwayB been asersin in it of romantic receptivi­ ty to jaat such impressions as the one which a recent event hodwrought. Her parents had held no definite faith; they were of the kind (eminently though her father had shone in the law) who cur­ tained what they thought the “bad policy" a t non-belief with such a pretty- patterned fabric of indifference, that it deceivednearly every eye as orthodoxy. For thk reason their child’s nature - missed those pleasant repasts which occur to us when we can feed imagina­ tion and emotion on the solemnity of worship. Lucia would have made a splendid-nun, except for the actual greed of mere living, the hunger after large inclusive experiences, the love for life itself just because of its pulse-beats and breath-drawings, which must for­ ever have kept her somewhat of the e#rth, earthly. Hut she wonld have clung to her psalter and her beads, nevertheless, while shaping for herseif a material fntnre heaven, with palm-trees of glos­ sier emerald than most nuns dream of, and perhaps a pair of wings with some sort of half-voluptuous rose-tint amid the chastity of tlieir plumes. How, in the present circumstances of her being, married to a man who had never lit her days with any hardier kind of glow than that of a rushlight through hours when her eyes longed for the “light that never was,” this young Woman poured forth in excited obei­ sance on a new-found object of homage all the past, pent-up fervor which re­ ligion might formerly have won from her frith ease. Seated there, in her perturbation, her fright of self, she strove to thin); what friend or acquaint­ ance could now bring balm to her troubled sou. Notonel All the men and women whom ?>he knew had for years enlrei „lied themselves beluud the practical and ordinary. Some of them ipftr* ehtirch-troers: others were rationalists; and yet others were of that “don't care” type which accept# life, death, time, eternity and the hu­ man soul as if they were facta in his­ tory, like the Edict of Nantes or the Hattie of the Boyne—topics that one may well be aware of but need not seri- onsly treat. “I wonder what sort of a counsellor f.bla younger brother, Gerald, would make/’ Lucia deliberated. "He’snever sent us his photograph; I might have gained some real.inkling of him from that. But a t least he’s liberal; Dr. Thorndyke more than suggested it. His mind isn’t a covert of cobwebs, like Sylvan's. I t would be refreshing to know him and judge formyselfwhether he could helpme.” Through a mist of tragic bewilderment one clear-viewed purpose began to dawn upon her. Sylvan had spoken about destroying those papers. This meant that he had not yet done so—possibly that he would refrain from such* an act for a long time, if Indeed he ever performed i t Meanwhile the manuscript (why not?) reposed in one of the two lookeddrawers of the cabinet in his study. What if she antagonized his obduracy by theft? Her impulse of honesty, still entwined among the most sensitive fibers of con­ science itself,. urged a stern veto against any such crafty course. Once more she would try persuasion. Once more she did. For several days £he friends who came to her noticed that she had an.ab­ sent and febrile manner. One or two of them, who were feminine, went away with the deduction that a pecul­ iarly domestic illness was approach­ ing and that it was high time some happy proof of her bond with Sylvan should bring its welcome change. One lady even murmured a sentence of this importfln Lucia’s ear. “How little sho dreams of what thralls and clouds me,” her hearer thought. That very evening, perhaps an hour after their almost silent dinner together, she appeared at Sylvan’s side, while he wrote as our lawyers do when they have quitted their “down-town” dis­ tractions, and while he used for a desk the very cabinet whose two locked drawers made so heavy an onus on her mental peace. Lucia was by this time excessively disturbed and eager. She did not know whether she could properly control herself throughout the coming interview, and she was quite clearly aware that her husband now awaited some sort of distinct rebellious out­ burst. • It came, and it came almost before Lucia was herself aware Of its advent. “I will permit no further queries from you,” she heard him say, after she had seen him also rise from his desk, and while, at the same time, she was but dimly, tumultuously conscious of the words with which she had just ad­ dressed him. / They looked at one another, both standing, there in the small, vaguelit room, with its rows of mauve-tinted legal books on every side. “ I—I don’t wish to seemover-trouble­ some, Sylvoif,” sho broke silence, with a sort of semi-stammering apology. “And yet—” “And yet you are very troublesome, indeed, my dear,'* be announced, with a haughty curtncss which made “my dear” ring In sorry satlro. “I have in­ formed you more than onco that I can not satisfy your singular craving.” “It Is not that,” she- said, with heat, yet with self-repression, too. “It is a knew it w as m ip !” Then her voice sud­ denly trembled and softened- “Sylvan! I thought yorf toved me. You've so often said tha t you did. What I ask is anch a little thing, after alii” “What yon ask /' h® retorted, “is n large and shameless thing. If I loved you as God himself lovea his children (and may the blasphemy he pardoned me!) I should never yield to this desire of yonra—neverl” The next moment aha flaw that he was intensely agitated. His reeling step disclosed this, as he advanced to­ ward the desk at which he bad been seated. From a packet he drew a bunch of keys, and with shaking grasp thrust one of them into the lock of a lower drawer. Swiftly he drew forth a long and somewhat dingy envelo|>et which Lucia seemed to recognize the instant it met her gaze. Springing erect and facing her, he waved in air the object he bad secured. “I am going to burn this,” he pro­ ceeded; “to burn this beforeyour sight. Look.” , She peered at the written name, for a brief while, and then he withdrew it jnst as her quick sweep of one hand sought to tear it from his clasp. He sped toward the gas-burner that in a cone of green shade illumed bis desk. “See,” came his next words, “I give it to the oblivion it deserves.” Already its frail paper edges hadbegun to flame, blackening and curling. She darted to him with outstretched hands and a for­ lorn cry: “Oh, Sylvan, don’t burn it like that) Don’t! I’ll promise—” Then she paused. .It was now a fiery mass, and it so lit his angered, defiant face that, she realized how hopeless would be any effort her feeble strength might make to Wrest it from his hold. : He lifted it on a level with his head, letting it redly flare until there was but a scrap of it left, and that scrap gave threat of suddenly scorching his fore­ finger and-.thumb. Then ho flung its charred remnant on the floor andcov- ered it with his foot. “There,” he said, in his throat, “the thing’s done. Now I hope your folly has ended with it.” She mode him no answer. She quitted the study with staggering limbs. Her torment seemed to her like that of a mother who had seen the massacre of js child. She got into her own private room and closed the door. Her head was whirling; sho wondered why she did not swoon. But something appeared to keep her from that. What was it? Ah, she knew, she realized, in a very surge of cognition. I t was her unspeakable hatred of hitn, new-born and yet born as they said malign beings were, with all its teeth. She had never loved him; now her in­ difference had turned loathing intense. He had killed that splendid hope. She had witnessed with her own eyes its hateful holocaust. Live with him after this? Hot if he could lodge her in a house of gold and give her gear that would outshine the sun. . Sho must get away from him. Her head felt hot as the flame she lmd just despairingly looked on; and her hands were ice. Ahorror of over again seeing himor beingnearhim insanelybesether. She might kill him—she wanted to go bock to him, now and kill him. She j shrank with a wild dread from Btaying ] nndcr bis roof that night. Them was .her Aunt Janet—her drawer. After having done ibis, be be­ came conscious of a*sharp discontent, whose object was Lucia. How strange that the only real discord which had ever risen between them should have concerned bis religions faith—an ele­ ment in him with which he connected all peaceful and kindly longings. He now told himself that he must repair with all acts of Christian gentleness the injury to his wife’s, feelings which a needful course of severity had Inflicted. His heart literally brimmed with good­ will as*he soon passed1from his study and went to find Lucia. His love for her, always ardent, had never more en­ thralled him than then. I t was blent with self-reproach for the distress he had caused her, though remorse had no real part in the poignancy of his regret. He entered her dressing-room and saw that it was vacant Giving it only a careless glance here and there, he went into other chambers. Not finding her anywhere, he summoned a servant. The answers to his questions were qnlto unsatisfactory. Mrs. Maynard had not CO pvbilh V,6 si A ll ova 1 —your Bufferings from Catarrh. That is, if you go about it in ths right way- There are plenty of wrong ways, mother's only Sister. Aunt Janet Was natural desire. I simply demand o f IP°°,r “nd *ivcd a meager way, streets you that you shall permit the worth or “ d ®trc,et^ bat wou d bo worthlessness of your father's discovery 1kind and give shelter for a few nights to hoeOmn known hv ,mW h .” ond «*»*’» ** eome. put of beco e by us bot .' “That I will not do,” ho replied. *“You will not do It? you will not?” Lucia broke forth, flushing and sapping hearer to him. “Ah,” she went on, “you have the manuscript concealed, no doubt, in this very room!" “If I.bavol” ho shot back, bitterly, “what then? Do you wish to play the thief and steal it from me?” She laid her band on his arm. “I wish to play the adviser, the giver of good counsel.” lie shook her hand from his arm at this. “Tho devil’s own counsel," he mut­ tered. “Sylvan!" she breathed, a little gasp­ ingly. “This is the first time you nave ever insultedme!” “You drive me to it.” “ I seek to dissuade you from casting a slur on your father’s memory.” “My father's memory! Pah! What doyouoarc for that? You want the drug —the ‘discovery/ as you call it. And it’s all the merest riff-raff of a clever nan ’s decaying faculties—untiling more.” Hir.tones were very acrid; he seemed transformed from his usual mild self. She watched him for a. second or two, with her eyes moistly shining and a quiver of her lower lip; “If you so believe it, Sylvan, then why do you hide it like this?” “Because it’s an outrage against God, I’ve said so to you before, why make me say it again?” “Yes, you've said it before. Hut how can your father's wish or design be an Outrage against God when, as you your­ self concede, tho brain that compassed the whole idea was in a state of semi- ruin? Oh, Sylvan, let us test the truth or falsity of that avowall” Again sho put her hand oat toward him, and tills time she rested it on liis shoulder. But lie repulsed her with an excessive rude­ ness, and she now saw on his working features the kind of pallor that was easy to explain as wrath. “Yon wish to tempt me!” he cried; “you can not succeed. My mother long pgo taught me—*” “Oh, vour mother!” she flashed. “I After Lucia had slipped his study Sylvan flung himself into a chair and sat for a long time with folded armB and gazed on the floor. Ho loved his wife deeply, in his way of loving. He was thinking all this while, whether the fraud that, he had conceived and carried out would not bravely succeed. Naturally, sho might SUDDENLY I IS EYE LIGHTED ON A PAFEB. been seen to quit the house. Butwhere, then, was she? Whither had she been spirited? Sylvan almost reeled with a dread' that he could ill have explained; and yet that stabbed him like a spear •of fire. He hurried back to Lucia’s dressing-room. He stood in. the center of it and called her name twico or thrice, , Suddenly his eye lighted on a paper pinned conspicuously against the rim of a mirror. He seized •it, read his own name, and soon read something more. : She had gone. With a few fierce words sho told him- that she wbuld never willingly meet him again. “You have mademc hate* you,” a clause of the letter ran. “I have often tried to love you, and always failed.' Now, since your brutality has shown me your true nature, I can only pray that you will leave me unmolested, to live or to die ns I choose.” The letter trembled in Sylvan's grasp, “I have often tried to love you” ap­ pealed to old slumbering suspicions with a frightful rehabilitated force. He. sank into a chair, sweating coldly with anguish and dismay. found out. a time, but that perhaps you’ve They may relieve for they don’t cure. Worse yet, they may drive the disease to the lungs. You can’t afford to experiment. But there is a right way, and a sure wav, that does cure. Thou- sands of otherwise hopeless cases have proved it. It’s with Dr. Sage’s Catarrh Remedy. By its' mild, soothing, cleansing and healing properties, it permanently cures the worst chronic ’ cases. Catarrhal Headache; “ Cold in the Head”— everything catarrhal in its nature, is cured as if by magic. It’s a way so sure that , the pro­ prietors of Dr. Sage’s Remedy ~ good faith, $500 for a Catarrh which they can- offer, m case of not cure If it’s make the for you to sure enongh for them to offer, it’s sure, enough make the. trial. They risk? risk $500. What do you “German Syrup A Throat and Lung Specialty. I GIVE IT TO lif e OBLIVION IT DESERVES. a t firat show liawli revolt; but soon all that must change; every storm raves it­ self into peace. And os for this deceit about burning a false envelope for a true one, how could ho help justifying any course that might lull in Lucia this profane frenzy? After awhile (the lapse of time was longer than ho realized) Sylvan rose, went to the open drawer of his cabinet- like desk, «ml drew from it an envelope almost precisely resembling the one Which be had burned that evening. Whatever trick of calligraphy he bad used in imitating the superscription at which lie now gazed, his adroitness of touch had been quite perfect enough to deceive the agitated eye that met it. Satisfied of this fact, he replaced the envelope, dosing and ^Kicking the CHAPTER VL “BrovSzcr, you know me, don’t yon?” Gerald Maynard spoke that sentence, standing at tho bedside of Sylvan, who, had been ill, who had partiaUy recov­ ered, who had gone out into tho'world, and who now again had been smitten with a drowsy inertia which .bore the semblance of brain paralysis, thougli not the real symptoms or portents of that disease. “Know you, Gerald? Yes,* mdeed.” And Sylvan stretched ont a hand whose emaciation suited the sad change In his face. “There, that’s right,” said Gerald, Bunny as ever of eye and smile, with tho same debonair speech and easy gest­ ure. He seated himself closeby the bed. “You mustn't give way to this horrid melancholia. You must fight it, Clyde says you must, and I echo him.” “This Clyde and you are great friends already,” said Sylvan, in a voice that piteously betrayed the sick man he was; “Isn’t that true, Gerald?” “Yes,” was the answer. “Crawford Clyde is a. wonder in his way. He’s really famous here, you know, as a Specialist on nervous troubles, though he can't l>6 much over flve-and-thirty. And yet he’d no sooner accepted me, so to speak, as the friend of dear old Dr. Thorndyke than he gave me a royal welcome. Why. bless Those who have not used Boschee’s Ger­ man Syrup for some severe and chronic trouble oftheThroat and Lungs can hard­ ly appreciate what a truly wonder­ ful medicine it is, The delicious sensations o f healing, easing, clear­ ing, strength-gathering and recover­ ing are-unknown joys. For Ger­ man Syrupwe do not ask easy cases. Sugar and water may smooth a throat orstopa tickling—forawhile. This is as far as the ordinary cough medicine goes. Boschee’s German Syrup is a discovery,'a great Throat and Lung Specialty. Where for years there have'been sensitiveness, S ain, coughing, spitting, hemorr- age, voice failure, weakness, slip­ ping down hill, where doctors and medicine and advice have been swal­ lowed and followed to the gulf of despair, where there is the sickening conviction that all is over and the end is inevitable, there wc place German Syrup. It cures. You ate a live man yet if you take it. 9 m Latest Styles -IN—. ' L’Art De La Mode. 7 COIOARD Pr,ATEH, AIX THK UTOT AXB XKH TURKFASHIONS, lyOrriFi’it of yorirJ*etv*dealer or HenriWet*. rorlfttcatmimbcrte W.J. MOHHPwI’wblUhcr. a Kant lWleSUAewYerk MTNAMI THISPAPER Haw jm nib * G O O D N E W S • *FORTHEMIUJONSOFCONSUMERSOF^ ,T u t t ’s P i l l s . S I I t gives D r, Tutfc jik ip n re to Mil*, a your soul, Sylvan, 1 feel like commencing practice • T I N Y L I V E R P I L L * already as a NewYork physician. And ---- «■ - -■ - w then Clyde is so good in matters which a man of his professional note might naturally overlook. He’s promised to use his influence*’—Gerald paused. 11)9 brother’s eyelids had dosed, dead- pale against the equal pallor of his checks, “Well? He’s promised to use his in-* fluence?” Dreamily speaking, Sylvan hod un­ closed his eyes. But Gerald did not meet their look, though he answered, with an off-hand air, certain sentences which were really no answer a t all. “Oh, I mean that in a general sort of fashion lie's so extremely good. lie Cheers mo up; ho m ak e- mo feel as if 1 . . . . . _____ . were not truly the mere neophyte in H lY FEtfElf CUflCD tO STAY medicine that ! am.” ■ rC IC n Wewaattko >'af‘s jrv which 1»o fn o c e d in g lf sm all M*c, yet _ retaining alt th s Virtues of th e Urge* A • ones. They a re guaranterrt p u relyw vegetable. B o th sixes of these pills A are still issued. The exact sixo of , W m t i ’ tt ’ s t in y L iv e r n u s a ^ l* shown In th e border o f this • C* > YOUWILL SAVE UONEr. “ Y S i f t S i tW * C a t a r r h n r usnto EliVennB i I m • t r i a s s s t i s s r a i u ssf-Nsiano. A silence come, and then Sylvan queried, with extreme soiabcrnea; of tone: “And what docs he lay of tu< manuscript that father left, (icra'dv Didn’t you tell mo you wore going t> wnttilt him about ii?” I to it* fu irriN i'v n .l & ASTHMAft dress of eVtu m.u YJ.8, ta d Cbnsrin. P.Iart'AIsftiji., Ba . ANDWHISKEYIf* Ct'HCO AT HOME OPIUM anttiM*w»ton*** m »»«•*. OUT, FAIN. It-wit. tlealftiS REST V % W<* I.I.FV l mac* t*to wsiukui <«•