The Cedarville Herald, Volume 12, Numbers 27-52
The Cedarville Herald. W„ H. BlAIR, PubUthw, ' CEDABVILLE. : s « OHIO AMONG THE FLOWERS. Nctw ttb the osglc’s flight, who seerbelow him A village gleam, a pine grove Bleep la »#sflf A blue lake smite, a river’e UqnWjpoem Bun ft* slim tbread-U*»t through the prose of land. ' Nor where The sailor steers py southern . sighting some distant Thpltf of the eea Through deserts of alternate sound and al ienee, And wild* of wonder, letmy rosmfngbe, I would walk humbly where no glass between us Must show ate Nature’s countenance, and come In days whose evening star Is always Venus . To sport with dew-drops, like a bee, at homo, ’Tls Eden everywhere to hearts that listen And wstoh the life of woods and meadows grow; • . Each tiniest blade love's holiest kisses christen, . And beauty asks not where to bud and blow. There is nomuslo for the joy of thinking - Like Flora’s bytnn in smiles and odors played, No mood like that when sense and soul are drinking The red and yellow honeythat God mode. The blooming wilds’ H is1gardens are; some cheering Earth’s ugliest waste has felt that flowers bequeath, And all the winds o’er summer hills careering Sound softer for the sweetness .that they . breatho. ■ Down lonely .glens, in beds unsboped, un- spaded, The snowdrop letters of joy’s earliest word Whiten the sod* and pink stars shine, fern- shaded, Where old creation’s curse was never heard. Peace, freedom, purity her blossomed sample 'Guards each in Holds and forests evermore, . And the lost glories of the world's green temple . Show still some flakes of splondor on its floor. • These' are my school books, and I study in them A voice, a bliss of strange forgotten days That brings u e near tho love th at could hogtn thorn. And makes each potalled sweet a song of praise. .—Theton Brown, in Youth’s Companion. [Copyright, 1891, by A. N. Kellogg NewspaperCo.) CHAPTER 1 L—COXTIXTTED, ’’You shan’t go near the horrid old monster again, my stveet mam,” the child cried, caressingly laying her hand on. her mother’s shoulder. “The disa greeable creature made you quite ill last Friday with his vulgar suspicions, and I am sure there is no law which Cnn 1 make yon do unpleasant things if you don’t want to—” “llush, dear!” the mother chided, “tie did but his duty, though his manner of performing it was unnecessarily lmrsh—but, oil, Kate, look a t tha t love ly child in the arms of tho woman among tho steerage passengers. Sure ly tho little creature cannot belong to her.” . Kate gazed in the direction her mother poiuted, and an exclamation of ndmirution burst from her lips.* A stout, neat, healthy, country-like wom an of about thirty years of ago stood a little apart from the rest holding in her arms a "two-year-old bi jy girl, whoso radiant’beauty glowed the brighter for its humble surroundings. Her golden curls were fluttering In the breeze, her round blue eyes were flash ing with intelligent wonder on tho an imated scene, and her complexion was soft as a fairy’s and tinted by the sea breeze* bisquclike in its exquisite del icacy. No sculptor could have molded a chaster ionn of health and innocence. Men’s eyes grew softer as they looked a t Jier. Ah, mel what a wonderful in fluence the beauty of childhood has over us. The man whose nature in sat urated in greed, whoso God is gold, whose ledger is liis Bible, breaks his idols and becomes human a t the lisped bidding of fin infant’s prattle. Verily these little ones, around whom lingers the breath of angelh, are sent on earth to redeem cur gross hmhanity. Mrs. Evesham forgot her disappoint ment in bar wondering admiration. •‘Oh, mam dear,*’ Kate cried, quite carried away by the beauty1of the vi sion. “1 must go to her for just one nlotncnb—may If” Before Mrs. Evesham could Interpose an objection, the impetuous girl had flown from her mother’s side and was caressing the baby, Who held ont her hand with chartning confidence and was quite willing to toddle off with her new found friend, “You may take her if you like for a moment, miss,1’ the woman said, won by Kate’s pleasing manner, “while I see if my tickets and checks are all right, Ah, it b a hard task to come to a strange country without a friend to help one.” Kate led the baby across to her mother. “Oh, mamma,” she cried, with cn- thnsiasm, “did you ever see such a wee, winsome'darling?” “She ia a beautiful child,” Mrs. Eve sham replied, “but fio you notice how well she is dressed—quite ou t of charac te r with the woman, who does not look like a nurse, and certainly cannot be her mother.” “Yen mam, darling; but, having such a beautiful baby, perhaps sha spends a ll her money over it, 1 tm sure I would.” “You do not understand, Kate, that it needs taste as well as dollars to dress a child like this.” The much-critjcised baby accepted placidly these remarks on her personal appearance, which she seemed to un derstand, for she smoothed her dress with her hands and burst into a merry laugh of self-satisfaction. 1 Certainly Mrs. Evesham was right. No vulgar hand designed the .little one’s costume. She wore’a fine India muslin dress with k robe front of Valenciennes inser tion and elaborately trimmed with deep lace of tho samo costly material. Her dress was cut low with short •sleeves, and round her neck was hung a flue, pale coral 'necklace with gold .mount ings, •Short, white lace socks'clasped' her rounded limbs; her tiny feet were encased in cream-colored kid shoes, and her embroidered flanpcls and dainty petticoats, as they peeped fnbm be neath her dress, were perfect specimens of the seamstress’ art. A cluster of shining curls fell over her shoulders be neath a loco cap, and the soft,, fluffy hangs which surmounted her fair fore head made the lovely little face be neath almost ethereal.' in its sweet expression. But the smile died on the lady’s face, for her glance fell pq a small parch ment label attached to a silk cord, which was tied round the.child’s waist. On’this she read: “■WandaArlington, ' • Cure of Ambrose Arlington, Esq., No. 17A, WForty-ninth street, New York, U. S.” By this time’ the woman had joined the little group. Mrs. Evesham rose excitedly and faced her. “ In Heaven’s name,” she said, •“where did you get this child?” while 'Kate stood with round eyes wondering a t her mother’s excitement, and even baby puckered up her pretty lips in tearful mood, v The woman, startled by the intense- ness of the lady’s question, colored scarlet, and bursting into a flood of tears replied in a n .accent which re minded one of the hills anddales of Der byshire: " * ' . !fTJb*roi I knowed how it .would be. I thought from the very first that there' ’ud be trouble ahead, A lady would not trust a lit lie pet like this;—which one can see with half an eye lias been born ’o’ gentlefolks—to a strange woman on an emigrant ship, if some screw was not loose, though I am sure I' ve done my * WAS .CARESSING THE BABY. duty by her. Then, the five pounds did come so good just os I was startin’ off for a foreign land to join my husband, who is a carpenter an’ served his time in the best shop in Derby an’ was doin' os well as n man could do, till he got bitten with the idee of cornin’ to America—though tho Txird above only knows where this Wisconsin of his is, now I’ve got here, and him so thought of by the parson and ’squire of the par ish of Jlepton, where we both lived ever since we was that high.” Completely ont of breath, she paused in her unintelligible tirade, and Mrs. Evesham managed to get in a word of apology. “lily dear wpman,” she said, “forgive my hasty expression. You have done no wrong that I know of. Only the ad dress on this little card is mine, and I was struck with the odd coincidence.” “Yours, mem, yonrs indeed—why, I thought Ambrose was a man’s name, an’ I’m sure the lady sakl the little girl was to be left in charge of her brother.” “Oh,I only meant,” Mrs-, Evesham ex plained, “that- the house mentioned here is my house. Mr. Ambrose Ar lington lodged with me, but ho died very suddenly last Friday. Please tell me a t once what you know about his family.” “1, don’t know no more than the dead,” the woman said earnestly; “it is the strangest thing I ever heard of in my life,” “You don’t know the people to whom this child bclongsl” “Indeed I. don’t, marm. The very mornin’ ua wo was agoln* to sail, me an’ my sister-in-law Maria Wilkins, which is a most respectable young wom an in tho service of a barrowknight’s lady though she’ is not married nor likely to be through havin’ red hair,— well, we was a walkin’ tip an* down the landin’ stage a t Liverpool a sayln* good-by. When up comes a well-dressed Woman, quite the lady, accompanied by a nurse who carried this little girl in her .arms; an* she says, say* she: ’Are yon gain* to New York by the Northern Star, my good woman? %a’ I says, says I: ‘Yes mem, I be,’an* she says: ‘Do yon want to earn five pounds?* an’ I says: ‘Of couraa I 'do if I can earn it honest;’ an’ she says? ‘Of course you can. All I want of yon is to take care’ of this little girl on the voyage an* de liver her to the address which is writ: ton on this card;’ an’ says she, ‘if you do it properly, Mr Arlington will give you the same amount when you get there, an’ tha t will be ten pounds;’an ’ I says: ‘No, mem, I won’t have nothin’ to do with the child.* But what with Maria Wilkins, who always was too ready with her advice, a egging me on, an’ what with the child a takin’. such a fancy to me from the very first, bless her little heart, an' what with the lady persuadin' me, I yielded.” “But surely the lady told you who were the child's friends?” “Not a word. The bell rung for us to go aboard. She gave me a valise filled’with necessaries for the voyage, an’ told me that a trunk full of the lit tle one's wardrobe was in the hold, an* would ’go straight through' to where Mr. Arlington lived. . But juBt as the lady was a goin' off with the other woman in a hansom cab which was awaitin’ for ’em, I up an' spoke: ‘Sup1- pose we was wrecked erossin’ this ter rible ocean,’ says I, ‘an’got stranded on a desert island,’ says I, ‘who should I write to to let you know?’ I shall never forget the look she gave me. ‘Please God. I’ll never look upon herfoceagain or hear from her or about her any more in this world, an’ if you should both of you go to the bottom of the sea, it would be the best thing that could hap pen to you,’ says she, as she stopped into the cab an’ drove off.” “Were there any papers or letters among the little girl’s things in the valise you brought with you?” “Not a scrap, mem," “And you say there is a box in the Hold belonging to her?” . “There is, mem; at least the lady said "so.” “Well," Mrs. Evesham said decisive ly, “wo must base all our' hopes on gleaning some »information from its contents. At any rate we can do no good by remaining here. Will you get ready to accompany us home?” “ Indeed 1 will,, mem,” the woman as sented, gratefully, “an’ glad I’ll be to go with you; for there’s nothing I dread so much as to be alone in this big city.?’ So, as soon as the little ceremonies of the debarkation of an emigrant were fulfilled a hack was called, and thqy drove in a party to Mrs. Evesham’s residence to be received by Alice in a flurry of pleased excitement. Little Wanda ruled the establishment like a royal princess from the moment that she set her tiny foot across the. thresh old, holding in slavish subjection every human being about the place. With the usual inconsistency of great little personages, she lavished her affections most prodigally on Harry, the ono least likely to appreciate them, but whoyield ed with a good grace to the inevitable. Who could xyithstand the whims of such a winsome little fairy? As for Alice and Kate, they constituted themselves her ladies-in-wuitlug, and never was regal personage more'faitlifully and pa tiently served. That night the stars looked down upon a sweet group of childish innocence. In a cot which Mrs. Evesham had im provised for the occasion, lay baby Wanda sound uslccp, while side by side knelt the figures of Alice and Kate, praying the Father in Heaven to take under the wings of Ills protection thef slumbering form of Number Six’s sister. I t was a pretty Bight, and so thought Mrs, Evesham, us she stood a t the door way, gazing on the innocent scene, -T^JThe chamber was a side room on the ground floor, with a window opening into a small alley. The servant had neglected to close the shutters, and, though there was little chance of an noyance from obtrusive eyes in that secluded quarter, the young landlady turned aside to draw down the blind. Bnt in the very act she stood trans fixed with terror; for glaring a t her through the window-pane was the white face of the maq who had pretended to photograph the body of Ambrose Arl ington. CHAPTER III. A COOP 8A.MAr.tTAS. Isaac Evesham, of Buffalo, lumber man and mill owner, was in a certain sense a great man—not personally, for he was short and chunky in figure; not mentally, for he had no. more imagina tion than a cow; not morally, for though ho was the prop and stay of Lit tle Bethel church, whichwas mainly sup ported by liis contributions, he ignored the Master's precept to love his neigh bor as himself and chose rather to look a t him as ono to be spoiled as a-Plrilia- tine. Still ho was a very great man a t Buffalo, Ills sense of duty was overpowering. I t was duty which led him to proscenia a poor widow for stealing a bundle of splints; duty had induced him to grind his laborers down to the lowest day’s pay for the biggest day’s work; and it was duty which had countenanced his just indignation and Strongly expressed disapproval when his brother, twenty years younger than himself, had per petrated marriage with a penniless girl—an act little less than a crime in the es of the astute lumberman. II# had married, of course, but ho had been wise enough to “love alas* and her money, too,” and had nothing to re proach himself for la th e prim, pinched- fseed matron, who presided over the great, uqfiare, red-brick, public school like building he called h!a bom*. He had been blessed with children, too— one, a boy whom he had mentally starved to death, denying him story books and the casual enjoyment of childish liberty, and who had grown al most to a manhood of harmless imbe cility, when he hod suddenly sickened and died;.and a girl, more robust, who had survived her father’s immaculate system to reach womanhood, a hard, cold, selfish person, with, a fear of her father and contempt for her mother in the ploce of filial affection. Thcf’breakfast table in the Evesham mansionwas not the cheery, social gath ering place it isin some families, and off one especial morning in leafy June the early meal was a more solemn cere mony than usual. Mrs. Evesham was never very lively, but to-day she was exceptionally dejected; Jane had been slighted, a t a young people’s gathering in the church parlors the previous even ing, and was properly resentful, and the master of the house was not quite Satisfied with .the rulings of the market and .vented liis disappointment on his women folk after the manner of men of his peculiar temperament. He sat toy ing with his beefsteak and reading the morning newspaper. Suddenly he clec- ■‘h a lf ’ HE SAT READING THE MORNING NEWS PAPER. trifled the ladies by an exclamation of profanity so awful in its character that they, poor pious souls, paused aghast in hopeless wonder. . ~ “Pa!" ejaculated June, in shocked surprise. . Mrs. Evesliam was too horrified for wordB, but held up her mittened hands in deprecating agony. “ I t is all the doing :of the woman who marridd my poor brother Henry,” Mr- Evesham explained, his cheeks tingling with confusion- “ VYhat, in' the paper?” Jane asked, forgetting her papa’s impropriety in her curiosity to learn the news.- “Yes," the lumberman groaned?“ a column of it.” “What lias, she done, Isaac? *1 vvish you would not startle me so,” gasped Mrs. Evcslium, feebly. “Done! I don’t know that she’s done much. It is just because she has not done something that she is bringing disgrace on the fumily name. Never read of a more shocking instance of feminine moral obliqnity. Hero one of her precious boarders suddenly dies, and instead of affording the legal au thorities all the assistance she can, site is so reticent that she brings down upon her the reproof of the coroner, and the Daily Herald speaks of her as a re luctant witness.*’ “What can be her object?” queried Jane, aghast at the thought that her genteel associates would learn that tier aunt kept a lodging-house. “Oh, some Billy sentimentalism, you may depend on it," Mr. Evesham snorted; “the woman always was a fool.” “Won’t you read the article, pa?" his daughter asked.' “ Y e s , d o ,” p l e a d e d h i3 w if e . ■ Thus adjured, the indignant gentle man read in a hard, dry, monotonous voice tho long, sensational account of the catastrophe, which had lost none of its suggestive mystery in the graphic description of the reporter, “How dreadfully shocking!” Jane gasped. She was not thinking of the sudden death of the hapless man nor the trouble of her relatives, but how her dear friend Sarah Goodchild would gloat over this exposure of her family affairs. “What are you going to do about it; Isaac?” Mrs. Evesham asked, meekly. “Do! I suppose I must go to New York and see the silly creature through the mess she has got into. After all, she is my brother’s wife, and I do not propose to have her drag us into fur ther disrepute if I can avoid it.” For a moment a softening smile played on Mrs. Evesham’s features, she called to remembrance the pretty, blushing girl-wife her brother-ln-la# Hal had brought with such pride to show them sixteen years ago—nay, she was even touched with a slight pang of remorse, for had she not promised the handsome scapegrace th a t she would be a friend to his “wee wlfic,” if ever she needed one? “Isaac,” she said, timidly, pursuing this line of unaccustomed thought, “do you not think we might do something for Esther and her children?” “Certainly I do,” her husband snapped. “When I said I was going to New York to see them yon did not sup- pose 1 was intending to take so long a journey merely to make a momingcall, did yen?” fro be coxxn ram ] 1 eorvKiuu is * . . . , year round l i th e time when Dr,Fierce’s Golden Medical Discovery works the best. ' I t purifies the blood. I t’s not like the sarsaparilla* which claim to do good in March AprijI,,* n i :J Ia y ; you can depend upon it always. That’s why it h guaranteed. . I f ,i t doesn’t benefit or cure,-in eVety easfi ?for which ift reconwncnded,;y»u hare your money j black. -1 > V > i No other medicine of its kind says as much,—hut no other dou as much.- ,tI t cldanses, renews and i n v i ^ r ^ s i t h e ^ tiro system. JF 01 all imin, scalp and scrofulous affes- tions; as Eczctqa, -Tetter, Salt-rhcnm, White Swellings, Hip-joint Disease, £ujd kindred>Ument 8 j it’s a positivt cure. { . p. '* - • • - >&,, v -■ Tho proprietors of -. Dr. Sago’s -Catarrh Remedy offer $500 for an 1 incurable case tof. Catarrh. It isn’t mere ta lk—it’s business. They mean., to pay you, if they can't curd you. But you’ll find 'tha t they can. “German Martinsville, N.J., MethodistPar- Bonage. “ My acquaintance with, your yemedy,, Boscbee’s German Syrup, was made about fourteen ' years ago, when I contracted a Cold; which resulted in a Hoarseness and a Cough which disabled me from filling my pulpit for. a number of Sabbaths. After trying a Physician ,i without obtaining relief—I cannot 1 say now what remedy he prescribed —I saw the advertisement of youi; remedy and obtained a bottle. I received such quick and permanent help from it tha t whenever we have had Throat or Bronchial troubles since in our family, Boschee’s Ger man Syrup has been our favorite remedy and always with favorable, results, I have never hesitated to report my experience of its use to others when I have found them troubled in like manner.” Rev, W. H. HA ggar T y , o f the Newark, New A Saf0 Jersey, M.E. Confer ence, April 25 , ’ 90 . Remedy. 0 G.G.GREEN, SoleMan’fr.Woodbury.X.J. j . LADIE 3 50 ww H'T- Jm k . I fo -_ J i— W. L. DOUGLAS S 3 S H O E a is f f& n I K B E S T S H O E MTHEmRUJ rot TKMKfl . GENTLEMEN And LADIES, 7 ^ * Isrs by wearing W. L. Dossits Shoe*. Tliff meet the want* of all clnttM, and am the »«* economical foot-wear over offered for the assy- Beware of dealer* who offer other make*, u * Ing jtut as good, and ba sate yon hare W. L Dougins Shoes, wltii nsree and price stampedM bottom- W.L.Donglas, Brockton, Masi. ( T T A K I X * SUBSTITUTE, J l Insist on local advertised dealers topplpaj.m* Had each a lo To mark the Maud’s was a . W ith tower* May’s was ad And mine w Maud'e suitor , Wlrite-haire And May’s a 1 With, weaitt But mine was Content,wit H e had but tli A -truoftndl Maud'leads, u An empty li' And May’s rie * A h eart thm But in my ties , Love sings J ' She lig h ten s; And bright! R are gems an Are bu.t the XJut lovo is ay And never t I t Is tho soul'i I t is the hen And, rich or p Wc arc fora' Then oh, be g' . If such u gif ....... F o r gold-boug. But honest Though lowly In royal stat ,God crowns y< The love of --.Adelaide D. Iteyn Republican. S O L ID V E S T IB U L E TRAIN ' a t t e *,.**■ fro*.Chteaa*., New ant n«i care PBf cough for qrtltt f'f lyonkutlo'ii Kith Mill*. l*luf« it:*/* u - A, Y of Aleck Forma ^Minnesota, uccc ill the winter of rough giants wfc communities, the season in 1 were looking fo interest natur: stances, to a 1< tlie monotony o' It is seldom way, and this \ the rule. An i some mysterioi the oldest and in the “gang,” fall partly und« was picked np s Charlie Andrew • in treating ore tnres, and he e: < fully, expectin; bones broken, 1 and the men . would soon reci Otoe evening v ished as careful ■unfortunate m make, ana had few replies to l the others: “ I dunno what I hurt inside so to be failin' raj ter cash in.'’ There was si for a few mom ton spoke .up. youngest men twenty-one, b t i Everybody in c.’ | very much in [ pretty dauglite had a very slet tier, for he youngster and PUdou, of him. “Don’t you taken to Minm “Yes,” said believe he c There's three : how, and the that wouldn’t! “Well," said you fellers ’ll % h t, I’ll pull «Ule over fifty * Make it in two i ‘1 dunno," Ba . *reckon it’# 1 “ anybody coir h ter break d< -• hay witti ycr.’ “ I know it,” Jit risk it- If have a chanct »1 v-orsc o; A! Uffcu.w. smt m ii 1.1 •rMMteumMtnvM* *•»«*•»
Made with FlippingBook
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MTM4ODY=