The Cedarville Herald, Volume 12, Numbers 27-52

The Cedarviile Herald BI4TQ, FuNlrtw . CEDARVILLE. OHIO. WHEN THE BIRDS? HAVE DIED. O, god will bo tho buttercups Andbalsums white awl pi«lr And S«d will be the wood and plain Witten tho birds will all have died. Tito comely roses’ purplo cheolcs With Brievlng will grow pule, Bo sad will lie the summer night Without tho nightingale, Up swallow building ’neath the euTCS, No robin in the tree. No cuckoo, thrush, or oriole, ■ Or painted collbrl— No halcyon brooding o’er tho wave, No white dove on the. wing, Nor red flamingoes strutting through The gardens of the King. ' Tile dawn will come as still as death, . . With ne’er usingle lurk, And, joyless ns one stricken dumb, The day will turn to dark. And we shall clnspour hands and cry: "Ah, God! Ah, how I long For 0 B 8 swoet-throated bird to atng Even a foolish sopg.” -^Rudyard Kipling. A ROfffANCE TWO BROTHERS. B it EDGARFAWCETT, AUTHOR Off "TUB CONFESSIONS OF ChAUA" •*Aw ahmtioub W oman ," *.‘Tn® e v il . T hat M en D o ," “ a N ew Y oke F amily ," E tc . [Copyright, 1890, By Edgar Fawcett.] CHAPTER VI.—C ontinued . • , “ Ah, yes, site has told me! But sup* pose she has not spalcen the truth? She is a little sallow woman with across in one eye, who lives in a tiny brick house onOne Hundred and Tenth street. I never lilted her and she never liked me. She is so. unattractive a person that I always wondered how she could be near o f kin to my- comely Lucia. Once my wife confessed to me that her Aunt Janet disliked me on account of "my ‘strait-laced opinions.* But the aversion was reciprocal—indeed, yes! Mrs. Calderly is what she Calls .liberal,, which meanB that when you take the elevated of an evening up to her remote and ugly little house you are apt to. End in herdrawing-room at least one or two offensive persons who have hard imieparing the elixir . things to state of every accepted idea, from the Bible to tho current fashion in women’s raiment. She' certainly is not strait-laced; she is excessively loosc-laced; for that matter, one might say of her that she dispenses with nearly all stays of any sort, either mental or moral, Lucia always per­ sisted in being fond o f her. But I al­ ways read in her tart, curt speech and lier self-poised manner a kind of pert challenge. She never looked at Lucia I in my presence that she didn’t seem to say.* ‘Why did yon ever marry that man?’ , , . And when I went to her in my great miseiy after my wife’s flight 1burned all the while to search her rooms upstairs and prove that she wasn’t really lying. Her denials that Lucia was there cam c glibly enough; it Wasn’t that. Afterward, while I lay here with an upset brain, with all my thoughts grotesque and helter-skelter, 1 used to fancy it was the turn in one o f her eyes Perhaps this had given her a certain assurance, don’t you know? Did It ever occur to you, Ger­ ald, that a cross-eyed person can play deceiver with more steady duplicity than others?” “ Oh,” Gerald would wearictlly tell himself, “ these are bub the sick im­ aginings o f a distempered brain.” He never, for his own part, had the least suspicion o f Mrs, Calderly. Had this been true, he would hare sought out the little lady With a turn in her eye and striven artfully to pit his guile against her own. Of course the flight o f this young woman was a mystery, and the fact that her' having no other blood-rela­ tions o f any nearness except Mrs, Catderly made her continued self- effacement stranger still. More than once On the point o f proposing that dc» tegtiwMmight be set to search for lief, Gerald refrained from a suggestion whose acceptance would accord 111 with his present preoccupied mood. Hero another pang o f self-rebuke as- sniledliim. Ills efforts in that new-ap­ pointed laboratory enthralled him as though ho had grown the prey o f some wizard's craft, no had never known till now that he possessed those keen and tiny agents of trouble which r.re named nerves. One evening, a fter pro­ longed study and experiment, lie felt, on fuming out his light and sinking his head into the pillow, an unwonted weight of dejection; almost dark as the darkness itself: ‘ ’What,” lie thought, “ if the search for this weird and occult force carried with it a stealthy and subtle curse? Wliat if the curse should begin with just such minor alienations from duty and human pity as I have al­ ready noted, and should end—, should end—?” . . But sleep, that kindly. genie who waits on the fatigues of youth and health, left his last fantastic self-query mercifully unfinished. And in the morning he forgot the tinge o f morbid reflection, which had crept across his brain, and remembered only that the day was full of sunshine;, that liis own refreshed energies were full of purpose and power. The ardor with which lie worked grew in a way sacred to himself. A l­ ways moved to reverence by tho mem­ ory of his father, a more than filial sense now stirred him. A t times fio al­ most saw his father, a shadowy shape, and yet one vested with acute souvenirs of their days together in pictnresquo old Marylebone road. Now and then the air would seem electric with admo­ nition. His undertaking appeared to him so holy as forcibly to sweep a vague aroma through the harshmaterial odors of his chemic pursuits.. He swiftly be­ came the votary o f an imagined god- ship. This cult meant ills father’s be­ queathed mission, and such mission he now spiritually frnclt before, in devout regard. To solve’ this enigma, which had assumed for him the form of a pre­ cious inheritance, was to guard it against the least mundane disapprecia­ tion. As the struggle) which he made (and it was a severe struggle, consider­ ing his relatively •few equipments) neared surer and surer, the goal he al­ ready had discerned, Gerald became penetrated with respect for his toil quite foreign to the intent winch had before infused him. His former passion for realities abode the same, but this had mistily vailed itself in a, haze of romanticism. He constantly saw Clyde and reported to him the results of each day. “ You are growing feverish and queer,” liis friend said to him one even­ ing, “ as your brother (to judge from your own tidings) grows calmer and more ordinary." ‘ "True,” returned Gerald, “ 1 am al­ most; at the summit o f my aspirations. Tomorrow, or perhaps a day or two later, 1 shall have really brewed that eolorless liquid wo-both wot of." “ To-nn,rrow,'or a day or two later,” •Clyde musingly replied; “ why. then,” he broke off, brightening, “ we shall have a grand time together in testing its potency.” “ No,” replied Gerald, with grave de­ nial. “ No? llow ’s that?” came the quick question. , “ 1wish to tost its potency, but in a single way,” was Gerald’s reply. “ A single way? ' You mean. . ?” “ I mean with complete deference to my dead father." “ Gerald, how odd of you: Speak plainer." GeralJTdid speak plainer, and some- )\vhut at length. Clyde listened with flyout heed. At length he said: “ I understand your feelings. There’s something exceeding nice and poetic about it,” Gerald drew back a little. “ Ah! you express it too savagely,” he said. “ Savagely? You mean realistically. , . My dear boy, if it lies in my power your whim shall bo gratified.” “ It is not a whim!” asserted Gerald, ! hotly. “ It is—" “ A creed, an infatuation, a religion— any thing yon please. But 1 shull hold it inviolate If I can.” “ I f you can! You/ With your name and place as a physician'.’’ “ Ah! we'll see. I shall have to go through high jinks, no doubt* with those people at the morgue. Still, they’ll bring you the body of some drowned person whom they believe to have committed suicide. And on such a body you alone consent to try this mi­ raculous white liquid?” “ I have not called it miraculous,” re­ turned Gerald, coldly. “ That is att adjective of your own coining:” “ Ilahl” exclnimed Clyde, springing from the chair in which he sat and let­ ting a hand fall upon his companion's arm. “ You musn't rebuff me like that, dear boy. Recollect I ’m immensely with you.” “ Ah! 1know it—I know It but too well," tho tears visibly shining in his eyes. “ Look .here, Clyde,” lie went on, “ I simply want to pay my father’s grand idea (for it now seejns to me grand, whether it prove futile or no) a certain kind of allegiance. To try the elixir on some drowned person would bo precisely what he might, if now alive, desire and commend. A suicide? you will ask. Yes, a suicide, I answer, and one who lias sought self-murder -Vhrougli drowning. For, as tho manu­ script affirms, In the frame o f one wlid lms attempted death by drowning there w ill more probably lie no organic lesion. Hence tho drug, i f effective fit all, Will secure its chief chance of. acting at its boat In o f o who has died this particular death.” Gerald had thus spoken with his friend only a single day preceding the conversation held between Sylvan and ^himself, as recorded, at the bedside of, the latter. A ll was soon arranged. Dr. Clyde pulled certain secret professional wires (in certain ways empowered to do so by his position at Bellevue) and on.a certain morning Gerald woke in expec­ tation that tho evening would come to him packed with a prodigious fatality. His liquid lmd been perfected, and lie felt certain that even the faintest error had not crept into its composition. The tall flask that held it stood on a shelf in his laboratory. He had discharged his assistant; the work, for good or evil, for success or failure, was finished at last, lie scarcely ate a morsel during the day, and. when the darkness of an autumn evening fell blandly upon the huge town, ho sought the room which had witnessed his earnest toil, lit three or four gas-jets* and strove to engage himself with a Look? during the hours that must elapse between then and the time at which the cotpse would be brought him. ’ ’ But reading was impossible. Ho fe'/t greatly excited, and yet his nerves were firm as steel. He hud prepared a long, solid table for tho reception o f the body when it should appear. A t intervals he fixed his gaze upon tho dusky and pol­ ished surface close at hand. What would it presently reveal? Would the body bo,that o f man or woman? Had ho done wrong in requesting Clyde not, to come? Might not the utter solitude which he had proposed to himself as a sort of tribute due to the. immense seri­ ousness of his father’s attempt, prove sterner than his endurance could meet? Just beyond-the chamber in which ho now sat were two others belonging to himself. His landlady, a kind though rather stupid person, had been made aware-of the strahge, dumb guest that would arrive at midnight, or a little later; but she had also been led to be­ lieve that perhaps- purposes o f anatom­ ic dissection were alone the cause of bo odd an event. The other lodgers in the house were quiet folk who would most probably be fast asleep in their beds by the time the whole eerie thing occurred. - And so, restless yet placid, Gerald waited. Through his open window the voices of the great darkened city stole. Every separate noise, from the rattle o f a passing carriage to the far boom of a Steamboat on one o f the rivers, clad itself with audible language. In the next room there wus a large clock, whose tickings lmd never troubled him till now. But now they seemed to vacillate, ns it were, between two spoken sentences—“ what a fool” and “ wait and see.” Finally, though an­ noyed at his own weakness, Gerald rose, went into that adjoining room, and stopped the dock; But he looked at its hands before he did so. How the time dragged! l ’horo were stLU two .good hours for him to wait. . , CHAPTER VII. It was nearly half-past twelve, and Gerald had got to be so anxious that a glimpse of his own face, in a glass made him start aunoyedly at its pallor. The house was very still, ami so was the commonplace side-street, off near Second avenue, a little westward of its raw np-lown ugliness. For a good while he had not heard a single vehicle pass. The curtains were drawn at Ills windows; all was ready. Suddenly a clamor ns of heavy wheels rang upon his ears, He started up. The noise ceased just at his door, lie went down­ stairs with n fleet stop; the descent was n slight one. , l)r. Clyde had managed matters with perfect tact. The two men who pres­ ently bore something into ■Gerald’s front room and laid it. on the long wooden stretch o f the table, deported “ GOOD god !” HE SAID, LOUDER TUAN IlE KNEW, themselves as if the brilliant young doctor were near them to murmur his placid and apt command. When they had gone, and Gerald stood alono beside the. prostrate and shrouded form left \\Ith him, a keen abrupt fear began to ice his blood. He clinched Ids hands, threw back his head, and for a moment put forth in­ tense effort at self-control. Then he went toward a small cabinet and drew from it ft decanter o f brandy’, pouring himself n large draught, which he drank almost at a single gulp. I t was the first stimulant he had' tasted that day, and it almost instantly tranquillized huh, Tha light from the chandelier Jurt above the covered figure poured forth searching beams. Ho slowly drew aside tho drapery that obscured the face of the corpse. ■ . - • “ Good God!” he said, lender than he knew, and recoiled a little, letting tho cloth which he held fa ll sideways along an edge of the slab-like table. , lie had thought that perhaps it might be a woman, but he had not dreamed it would be a woman so fair as this one. Her face looked as if it had been cut from a great glosslcss pearl. Death lmd laid its cold finger with no rude touch on those folded eyelids, that met the chill cheek with their black, up- curling fringes in two delicate little arcs. Her hair was still-moist from the’ river whence she had been dragged “ DON’T BE FRIGHTENED,” HE SAID. but d brief while since. One heavy tress flowed downward upon the table and gave forth the some reddish tints os the smooth, lit wood surface itself. Gerald stared into the still face and his amazement deepened as it began to blend with a vogue, jarring sense of recognition. Where had he seen that dead face before? Had he seen it be­ fore? . . . A mist shrouded his eyes for a moment. He staggered back­ ward with one hand over his brow. “ Somewhere, somehow you have seen it,” said a voice. Soon he had quite mastered himself. He went close to the prone shape-and gazed upon it. ’ The wrappings which inclosed it were still almost intact. A glimpse of neck had been disclosed, but no more than that,. He stared down upon the statuesque face. How beauti­ ful it was! A thought flashed through his mind: “ I f I had known that wom­ an while living, how I could have loved her!” Unconsciously he pressed his hands together, and still stared with keen ardor into those colorless features: A strange impulse, full o f passion that bewildered while it beset him, now fired his veins. “ To love a dead woman! IIow horrible!” ho swiftly reflected. Then1ho tried to laugh, and his laughter died away with a forlorn fall. It was an impossible passion, lie told himself; it wasindecd no passion-at all. Fascinated, bewildered, almost ignorant of the act committed, lie-leaned down and pressedhis lips against the woman’s frigid check, wjiiic at the same time (for some reason which slept among tho mystic wells of human feeling) lie drew closer toward her throat the attire dis­ placed by his grasp of a few moments ago ....... The- reverie which now possessed Gerald was pregnant with pain. He cmild not remember where ho had seen tliis lovely face before, but that he hr.d seen it before was certain to him. That he lmd distinctly eared for it .was also certain, though liis brain hadnot grown so completely clouded as to let him be­ lieve liu hud ever been amorously thrilled by it till now. Andfyct now there entered his soul a reverence, a yearning, a despair which dizzied and distracted him. He wildly told himself tliut never in the whole history o f human experience lmd man thus been placed, lie loved this dead creature devotedly— or was it merely that be could have loved her if ho and she could have known one another it. life? Yes, it must be that—assuredly it ivas that and nothing else! In such a little while she would he spoiled and tarnished by the one hideous fate o f all flesh. Would he You can't believe some dealer* always. Th ey want to Bell the medicine that pays them „.ie largest profit. W h a t you want /to, buy is the one that does you the most good. Wh ich one is i t ? Sometimes, it may be a matter o f doubt.. But, in the case o f Dr. Pierce’s Favorite .Prescription, +bere’s no room fo r doubt. , I t ’s a latter that can be proved. W jth the facts before you, it’s an insult to your intelligence to have something else .offered as “ just as good.” And here’s the p r o o f: Among all tho medicines that claim to cure woman’s peculiar weaknesses, irreg­ ularities, and diseases, the “ Favor­ ite Prescription ” is the only one that’s guaranteed. . I f it doesn’t do all that’s claimed for it, if it doesn’t g ive satisfaction in every case, you’ll have your money back. There’s strength and vigor for every tired and feeble . woman, fealth and a new life .for. every Delicate and ailing woman— and if there’s no help, there’s no pay. 3 o i<3S«! o Tower's Improved 5 L IC K E R • irC u a n o le c t L > . 'Absolutely Water. *1/„ / A T " ” . A ll tmproeet Stickers hsv» bcsKkthefijtiBrirKf 'TiuMJS««konrvrrrCost °O f. flS SoftWooleij f/CJf S R Watch Out! Collar. . ■■.■I - ..... • .. s < m a, AJ. TOWER.MfR. BOSTON. MASS. CtUbfM. ■S-XXOT-D ■TECH . -ifcj L a te s t S ty les f i l l -W - (\ / LfA i tD e La M o d e . I \ m I ? COLORKI> I’ LATEtt* ill Tint i/irm paris a .< j > xeti TOItlt PASIUON8. tyOriler It of 3 ‘inirNowsdealer , oi Ht'iul a&ctn. for Inteetmiinberto IV.JkMiMtRKihibliOcr. , ,*3hW mu Vtrlfa (•-.YAMSTIHfl PAPERemytin*jMwrltB. m mm m GOOD NEWS • a FORTHEMILLIONSOFCONSUMERSOF^ I T u t t ’ s P i l l s . ; • I t gives Dr. Tn tt iilenirare to an- a nounce tlmt he Is now putting np a •TINT LIVER PUL# • which Is o fexceedingly small size, yet — retaining a ll the virtues o f the large* ■ ones. They are guaranteed purely w • Vegetable. Both sizes o f ttirse pills A are still Issued. The exact size o f . w * T E T T ’B T I N Y L IV E R F I L M - a ™ Is shown In the border o f this “ ad." ® GRATEFUL-COMFORTING. EPPS’S COCOA « BREAKFAST. •By a thoroughknowledge of the nature! law* nicui " ' ' 1 whi hgovern the oprration* of dieoatlonand nu­ trition, and by a careful application of the fine I properties of well.-elected cocoa. Mr. Epps ha* * . , . . . . . „ , . I provided our breakfast tables with a delicately go on loving her thenf “ All, yes,” his fl.-ivonrcdbeveragewhichmaysaveusmanyheavy ■ doctors'bills. It Is by the Judlelons use of such articlesof diet ihitaconstitutionmaybegradual* iybuiltupunlit strong enoughto resistcvery ten­ dencylodisease. Hundredsof subtlemaladiesare Hosting?aroundusready to attackWherever there spirit; seemed to respond, “ for her mem­ ory will abide with you always!” Ho still gazed down at the beauteous, liueless face. Anguish filled his heart, and slow, heavy tears dropped from his eyes. The kiss he had given her had nob repelled him, bub it hod seemed to teach him, through the agency o f an in­ tense pathos, how futile death had made this new, fierce emotion. “ There she lies,” he reflected, “ a mockery o f all the love I had in my nature to bestow on mortal woman. My ideal—that is just she, frozen, stirless, irresponsive.” And now the thought that ho had ever tfeen her before forsook him and did not re­ turn. Suddenly, with almost a bound toward the shelf on which it stood, he remem­ bered the flask o f white liquid. For many minutes lie had wholly forgotten it, and there is no exaggeration in here chronicling that he recalled it with a ticsiterate tremor o f delight. Tho ready means o f npplying it Waited lor his hand to seize. lie know from his father’s instructions precisely how to use tho fluid—first by pouring a certain amount down tho throat o f the dead iwrson, secondby subcutaneously inject­ ing an amount yet smaller. Before -an­ other five minifies had passed he hKd donq all that he dared to do, ( to R b voxxvxvva .'i e i* week point. Wa may eacapemany n fatalahaft y keepingouraelvc* welt fortlfled with pure blood I and it properly nourished frame.’’—" Civil Service CMade simplywith bolting water or milk.. Sold enlr in half-pound tin*, byGrocer*, labolled thtre JAMES EPPS it CO., HomceopathicChemists, London, England. D r B U L L ’ S [ B H 5 1 " ! I j I’ i f WM tU f S'mcf. 2 t<r BalvatlonfHlSS'A'A'^K: II1V CCUEO CUBED TO STAY CURED. HA I FEVCn w * want the name and ad* m . • . dress of every suttererIn tho 0, I C T i l l l l U. a andCanada. Address. &no Inlvln r. h «« u flsjcti.li., jhftkXb wrHtMinmFkrMwwyuurMvett. . RHEUMATISM CURED. “ Vftfee w>. nth’ iveatmei^wItT fu;i dire. tinnAby. JeanJorONR nO l.l.AW erAaaipla Pa* i fieiM inaandnarne ila-A for *-J‘F.Vr n t a MP. J ackson mantifaoturino co ., uoinmu««.ft Mr****U1AFAWA•«*!** *«»»*•.