The Cedarville Herald, Volume 12, Numbers 27-52

f? ~Y The Cedarville Herald # W. H. BLAUt, Publl»b*r, CHDARVTLLE. ! : s ' o n i a THE *OLD APPLE TREE. Hefo'e the old apple tree, wbero In boyhood I . ’ sported, When uiy heart wee os light os tho blossoms It bores ■Whero my old maiden'aunt by the parson wop courted, In her primcap and gown such aa ladles then * wore. o On this rude oaken bench, ’noath 'bending houghs seated, , While the wild bee was humming Its tong in thetree, 1 There we children oft-times by our elders wore treated To share' with their gossip, some cakea and weak tea. 1 , 00 k! hero oro the ntfmes of the many now ■ sleeping, Of dear parents and kindred long gone to tho tomb; Vho old apple tree, like n true friend, is heap­ ing The ,old .oak bench' they Bat on with beauty i ' and bloom/ In tho glad days of spring, when tho spirit pe- Joicttif,' ' When the old apple tree looks as gay as a bride,' L coaid dream that I hoard every one of the voices- " , Of.tho friends who sat here' on the bench at ray side. Every rudely-carved name has a story to tell mo— And- that true lover's knot, I remember it well; ' It was carved on the day when my first grief bofcllmo, The day of my parting from sweet Isabel. OhI the old apple tree, where in boyhood I - sported. And tho rude oaken bench, they are still in ' their place; But the dear household faces whoso welcome- • I courted, -■< They have vanished and left me the last in the race. , ■ —H. Coyle, in Vick’s Magazine. ■It* ttM STft&t reason to be con­ sidered*. perfect type of her peculiar style as Wantla Arlington herself. The one, ftw violet; the other, tho rose; The one, soft, sweet, modest, radiant, like a delicate flower with a gleam of sunshine on it; the other, (lark, vigor­ ous, Juno-like, as tho rainbow-hued plant nurtured by the passion-breathing sun of the tropics. Wanda kisses the dear ones good-by and steps lightly into the,seut beside Fanner Dolman, who, like most coun­ try yokels, is subdued into silence in the presence of ladies. He can scarce find words to refuse Mrs. Evesham's offer of refreshment. Then, amid much waving of handkerchiefs and manjr last expressions of affection on tlui part of the women folk, the charioteer rasps the horses' months with a vicious jerk of the rein, utters a longvdrawn-out "Hit a-u-p!" and the equipage moves away. Not until it is quite out of sight, and tho widow’s door has been closed, does William Bladon stir-—then taking one last look up the silent street, he knocks the ashes from his pipe and, turns liis steps towards a rustic seat under an apple tree in the orchard, muttering w ith intense, satisfaction; "Thank our lucky stars, that little baggage bo off at last!''"., In this pleasant retirement, with nothing to disturb him but the wild note of the blackbird or the merry chirp of the sparrow, he. sits for a long time lost in silent meditation. ' Then, a sudden thought seems to strike him- llo deliberately takes off his waistcoat nwl sets to work with his knife, to pick out some stitches, which had bound an inner pocket of the gar­ ment. This accomplished, lie draws forth a large leather wallet from which he extracts a number of papers careful-; iy folded, some of. them in scaled en- t velopcs. At last lie finds what he is j looking for, a photograph. On this he i concentrates his attention, gassing at it J for a ' long time with fixed eagerness. : It is the portrait of a-young and beuuti- j fill woman, and more and-more puzzled i is the expression on the old man’s face as Ids eves rest on the. perfect features. "Strange how like she be!" he mut­ ters to himself. “ The vqry image of her ladyship, as she stood th a t awesome day on the' lawn of the old hall, when- mind? There is no use trying to «#»• c e u l l t from myself or you—Ood help me. I. do love Wanda Arlington with my whole heart and soul; love h e r with all tho ardor of a passion pent up by the forbidding barrier of my terrible misfortune." ' “There, there,” old Bludon moaned, holding up his hands in dismay. "1 knew how it would be when I saw thee danglin’ a t her heels day after day. I tell'ee h e r hath bewitched thee, lad, an'—-" "Slio has .done nothing unbecoming the swee innocence of her pure nature. Is ,it her fault th a t she is lovable? You might as well blame the violet for its [Copyright, 1891 . by A. N. Ktlloce NewspaperCo.] ( CHAPTER VI.— CONTIXCED. But, if the primitive architecture shocks your educated eye, you cannot' but.be charmed with the gardens, or “‘yards" as the natives call them, nnd the orchards'which surround them. In one of tlie more ambitions of these edifices, George Arundel and his faith­ ful. friend and servitor, .William Bladon, ' have taken lodgings. I t is the latter',' Who in the early dawn of morning e$mes forth m liis shirt sleeves to the sidewalk and peers anxiously down the road. He is a short, thick-set man, probably about sixty years of age, with-a clean-shaven face and hair as white ns snow, Evi- ■dently something has discomposed him, for his countenance, which usually wears a kindly expression, is clouded, and even the short wooden pipe in his mouth from which he puffs huge vol- ‘MASTICn GEORGE, I t e i i .’ e e t h is w um - not no." perfume or the: nightingale for its mel­ ody as Wandn Arlington for her perfec­ tion." “Oh, Lord, lie’s got it bad,” Bladon groaned.- -. . , “But,'', Arundel continued, . “ I am man enough to bear my cross. Even if 1 th o u g h tth n t in her ineffable pity she would marry me I am not base enough to ask the sacrifice.” “The Lord forbid!” Bladon ejaculated with such unction th a t George Arundel could scarce repress a smile. “ Yes, dismiss from your mind all thought of Wanda Arlington ever being my wife, old friend,” he said, cheerily, The tap of a enne on the stoop close !X°r IB** !onff years of self-negation had bv roused him from his cogitations. j schooled his mind ton constant exercise ‘The old man started a t the interrup- f n{ » philosophy which robbed the bit- | tirin. terest disappointment's of life of half “Heart alive! I t is this young master j their sting. “She lms given me the himself,” he gasped, as he hurriedly j blessed promise to .be my sister: so yon th ru st photograph and papers back into I must be content to keep my ........ * his pocket. “Blnilon! Bladon! Where are you?” George Arundel cried impatiently, “Here I tie, Master George, under the apple tree,” the old man replied, run­ ning forward to lead him to tho sent. t “ I could 11 a’ find in my .heart to call j thee; tliou wert steepin' so calm ami quiet like.” . “Then I am too late Oh, Bladon. do not say th a t she is pone and I not up to bid iter Godspeed!” • -‘I am afeared George," Bladon “sadly afeared she have, for she started well-nigh an hour ngohe.” . “ Yet my orders to be called were positive," Arundel said, fiercely. “Yon presume too much on your position to set a t naught my wishes. I tell you, Bladon, I will not bo trea ted 1like a child;” “An* I wnnnot rouse thee o u t. of a sound sleep, when thou hast lost half the night tossin* an’ maulin’ in thy bed.” Bladon asserted, sturdily. Perhaps from long experience George Arundel kneiv that it was useless to argue with his faithful sen-ant: per­ haps he was too chagrined to tru st liim- secret and let her' share with me your “Sister!" Illndon interrupted with re ­ newed disgust, “So it’s got to that, has it? Sister indeed! They all begin the game that way, J know wlmt a girl means when she says she’ll be your sis­ te r—it means. Master George, that.be- fore you know where yon are you'll find yourself slippin' a woddin' ring o n . her linger, an'/then, heaven have mercy on you!" - There.was something So comical in she have, Master ' the old fellow's horror of matrimony replied, humbly: , th a t the young man, though he was in ‘ no mood for the humorous, burst into a hearty roar of laughter. “Aye, lungh away now. Master George; time will come when ye wannot^ be able to laugh for cry in'—then dunnot say I dinna warn thee.” "I will not. You shall have tlie eredit of rescuing me from a terrible im­ pending fate. Hark! there's the break­ fast bell.” Bladon made, no reply, b u t dutifully led his young muster indoors. Never­ theless ho communed with himself in this fashion: “ Poor, silly mawth; he. i will flutter into the eundlo' light an’ singe his wings; but if old' William 71 m interior of th e building w m more prepossessing. The g re a t square sit* ting-room, with its neat array of simple furniture, its pretty rag carpet, its Con necticut clock and its capacious rocking chairs, gave promise of a degree of homelike comfort not assured a t a first glance a t tho place. Then the bed­ room / with its dainty curtains and snow white drapery, charmed nnd sur­ prised the young teacher, wlia with the pliancy of youth soon' began to make herself a t home. ■ The next day seemed like a dream to her—a horrible nightmare, which dis­ turbed her thoughts for years, when tho days of liei* bondage would other­ wise have been forgotten. Squire Robison escorted her to the scene of her labors, a rude little cabin, standing in the middle of a-square; arid play ground fully, u jmiie from the village. ' With his own official hand lie rang the bell to summon the scholars, who having shuffled into tlie'.i scats were treated to an eloquent dm course, which Miv Robison had oi-ig’.ii ated, as a Fourth of July oration,, rrul whichemitainedmany graceful aiU>i‘>n.s to t h e / 1“Star-bi-spanglcd Bnt.ycr," Then, having discharged all his oratorical' fireworks, he left the pretty teacher, to her fate. > ■ Could she ever forget the horrors of th a t unhappy day? How she le ’l into' confusion worse confounded; -how-there' were thirty-six pupils, and' thirty,sew n classes; how no two children possessed | .the-saino. tex t bookfftow this one's*■mtiw Vdidn’t take “no account o’ grammar,' I and th a t one’s -‘paw" said he. “ ivarn’t .[ to he learned naivthin b u t ‘rithmetic how, when the shyness of the red- eheeked,- brown-legged urchins wore away, and the hot sun mad. them cross aud stupid, they began ,w quarrel and fight; and finally ho\v-£f>andcmomum broke loose. How she vainly-tried" to still the storm, and a t last bent to its fury iu a-pitiful flood of tears, helpless and crushed by her miserable failure: hoiv .that big, rtido boy, Jim Slocum, of. whom she had been in honest terror from tlie first moment she set eyes on him, suddenly and gloriously eamc to her rescue by seizing two of the worst malefactors and bumping their beads: together till they roared for merey. and vowed thnt.be would "skin tho hide off tho first feller ns troubled teacher." How deliciously' quiet was ti.iv calm which followed this sanguinary .announcement: and, how. when the rest ; were gone, she kissed the lad's bronzed cheek in tearful gratitude and bound him to perpetual servitude. But Wanda's trials were not ended with the close of. her school duties. The climax of th a t day’s miseries were to copYAioMTiaai 10s an inxtU your intelligence, but some un­ scrupulous dealers try it. For in­ stance ; you’re suffering from some Skin, Scalp or Scrofulous affection, or are feeling “ run-down’’ and “ used-up.” There’s a torpid liver, impure Wood, and all that may come from it. - You’ve "decided, wisely, th a t .Dr. Pierce’s Golden Medical Discovery is the medicine to help you. /o u know that it’s guaran­ teed to do so, as no other -blood- purifier is. If it doesn’t benefit or cure, you get your money back: But what is best for you to take isn’t always best for 'the dealer to sell. lie offers something else that’s “ just as good.’? Is it likely? If the makers of a medicine cau’fc trust it, can you ? One of two things has to happen. You’re cured of Catarrh, or you’re paid $500 cash. That’s what is promised by the proprietors of Dr. Sage’s Catarrh Remedy. By its mild, soothing, cleansing, and heal­ ing properties, it cures th.8 worst cases. sqcire itomsox escorted twit -ro SCENE OF IIEH I/ARORS. THE seif to speak; anyhow, he sa t for j Bladon can save his master’s son from a woman's wiles, the curi'e of. a second Wanda may lx? rparod -f.be house, of Arundel.” CHAPTER VII . } HVHAl. JOYS- Havana was a miniature edftldn of j Glastonbury bound in boards— rough, 1 in sullen brooding ! unpinned hoards, as nnsmooth as when ! man's heart, for lie. they left the sawmill, battered by rain ( village an j E V ID E N T L Y SOMETHING HAS niSCO'.fJ’OSEI) nut. many minutes in sullen silence, Bladon the. meanwhile lighting his pipe nnd calmly awaiting the result of tin* young man's cogitations. But he waited in vain; his companion, had not a word to say. Now, if Arundel had roundly _abused him he would have taken the j scolding with indifference, but to see ; him sit there i touched the old loved George as his oivn son. His anxiety at last broke forth in a petulant wail. • "Master George, Master George, I tell'ee this wnnnot do, worritin’ the nnd storm, and lending the ; a ir of abject squalor and dilapidation. ■I’.'.int seemed an unknown quantity i I there in those days. 1 say in those j days, for a ago an enterprising , times of smoke into the crisp morning air fails to give him the accustomed solace. There is as yet no sign of life flesh off thy hone s over u pretfv face j doctor discovered a medicinal spring in which thee cannot see - more's the pity, j Havana, built a big .sanitarium and con* Dang the: women, I ' ' ................ ‘ ' ......................................1 ......... v ’ snv, with their j verted the dull fishing village into a in the street. IBs gaze is fixed intently j winsorn’ ways putting a glamor over , gay Munriu f re’-ort, brilliant in color as " blocks »the host of men. I hean't much of a ; Joseph s coat; but when B anda Arling- scliolnnl, but I know- enough to tell'ee. ion first saw the place she thought on a small house a couple, of away, before which a big sign affixed „to a post announces th a t it is the liabi tationo f “Mrs, Evesham, milliner and dressmaker." At lasuthe watcher is rewarded by the. j man’s lips ns lie answered: sound of wheels and the creaking of u n - 1 "Bladon, my kind old fri th a t ive must na hide a t this place* any longer,” \ n amused smile played on the young greased axles, and he 'sees Mr. .Tames Dolman of Havana make his appear­ ance behind his two shaggy ponies and drivq straight to the garden-gate of the widow’s cottage. • The woodcn-faccd farmer is not kept long waiting. There is a hum of femi­ nine voices, the door opens, and Wanda Arlington comes forth, looking in her white rnnslin dress and broad straw hat so fresh and pretty that even old Bla- don’s eyes soften with honest admira­ tion. Bhe la accompanied by Mrs. Eve­ sham and Kate, the former not looking much older than when we saw her fif­ teen years ago; the latter developed Into a handsdme young woman of fonr* and-twenty—indeed, hers is a beauty ? ou do not meet with every day. 'hough in all respects she is a contrast to the girl around whose waist her arm Is encircled, yon cannot but confess that end. I firmly believe you are jealous of Mins Arling- ton’s attentions to me.” "Jealous, indeed!” tho old fellow grunted. “Yes, yon are jealous as a schoolboy, in bis puppy love, wild if anybody comes near the object of your affections. You literally cannot bear me to lie depend­ en t on anyone bu t yourself. Now sure­ ly X may express gratitude to n young lady, who has shown me so many kind­ nesses, without being in love w ith her.” “An* hean’t ye in love with her, Mas­ te r George? Bean’t ye mnuthcrin’ afte r her this minil, like a sick calf after Its mother? I’ve no patience w ith sneh goin’s on.” “And what if 1 am!" Arundel cried, in a burst of uncontrollable passion. “Do yon think that because I am blind to the beauty of her person I have no per­ ception Of the sweet qualities Of b t r there never was a spot more destitute of all th a t is pleasant to the human eye. Even the grand old river, stately nnd i solemn, rolling with ceaseless swirl to ! the ocean, failed to distract her mind from the desolation around her. Havana was a b lo t on a beautiful landscape—man’s defilement of nature’s loveliness. Sidewalks Jacked boards, fences were broken down nnd barns and outhouses showed great rents in their sides like gaping wounds. The streets were tracks in the virgin soil, a t one season sand nnd dust, n t another axle deep in mnd, nnd only enjoyable when w inter laid over them her soft carpet of snow. It was nearly noon when Mr. Dol­ man’s carriage drew up a t his gaunt, angular residence of unpainted wood, with hideous bine paper blinds, which made the eye ache 'to look upon them. Wanda saw and shuddered. Tlw “gym Is” were on the “stupe” to welcome them, for there were four Miss Doltnans in various stages of celebato decay. only attained when she readied her lodgings and fount] tho Dolmans in fussy preparations for company. "A surprise party, teacher! AH the tip-tops of the place coming to call upon you,” Miss Martha announced iu kindly glee. “Oh," said Wandn, with a little gasp, “Must I reallv bo: present? I atn sir tired, I—” “Tlie idee! Not be present, indeed! •Why, there’ll be tin* pastor an’ his family, the Sldnncrs, the La Forges, Josh Black, the gentleman as peddles the. milk, the lleidenbrocks, and Hul- dali’s feller—likely as you could disap­ point 'em." "Iluldah’s fellow?" Wanda queried, amnsed in spite of herself. “Yes, Holdall's feller, Jnbez Short.” Martha Dolman snapped, "so don't be thinkin* o’ setlin’ your cap a t hirn, for lie's bespoke.” "Pshaw, Martha," Hiildah interposed, cheerfully, / ‘teacher has no cruse, to borrow sweethearts, fo r there’s a fine, rich young gent coming all the way from Glastonbury on purpose to keep her company. Jabez Short, indeed! She’s city bred and flies a t higher gain* than our rough lads." “Coining to see. me!”Wanda fluttered; "who can It be?” “She means Alphonse Damiens — what, do yon pretend to say yon don’t even know him by sight—the biggest catch In this county,” Martha explained. “And yoii'ro quite welcome to him, Miss Arlington,” Huldali added. *Yor, notwithstanding his handsome f*ce and fine fortune, I’m glad it is you, not me, he’# took a fancy to,” Wanda's check tingled with indigna­ tion, but she was a girl with much com­ mon sense, so she passed without a word to her room, little thinking, poor girl, of the stormy clouds gathering around her, [ to m •ogxninfej This is the query per- W h a t is petually on your little boy’s lips. Aud he is It For? no worse than the bigg . ger, older, balder-head­ ed boy^--£,ife is an interrogation point; " What is it for?” we con­ tinually cry from the cradle to the ,jrave. So with this little introduc­ tory sermonwe turn and ask: ” \Vbat is A ugust F lower for ?’ As easily answered as asked : I t is for Dys- lepsia. I t is a special remedy for , the Stomach and Liver. Nothing more th a n ' this,; but this brimful. We believe August Flower cures Dyspepsia, We know it will. We lave reasons for knowing it. Twenty •years ago it started in a small country: town. To-day it has an honoretff re&i place in every city and country sto ,' possesses one of the largest manu­ facturing plants in the country and sells everywhere. Why is this? The reason is as simple as a child’s thought. I t is honest, does one thing, and does it right along—it cures Dj\spepsia. 9 G. G. GREEN, Sole Man’fr,Woodbury,N.J. / TH E > ONLY TRUE IRON TONIC wmptmiy otajod , rrzuiai# KIDNEYS, remove I.IVER dlMriler. build elrceal.*i. renew Appetite, restore tica-.t . and Tlrororyoulb, Dyspepsia, iBdl^estlon, tijattlr-rr.fi. lnrntitulutcly era -ated. Mind brighten' !, i.raln fc. power Increased, bonra.,nerve:, mr.*» etc*, receive newf..r<-e, mlTerlhff from corop;a:: 's !*- cellar tothe!r box , ustnjrit. find —_ _ _ _ _ _ a safe, Speedy cure, n. tucns roseblooraou checks,brauUQesComplexion, Sold everywhere. At! retiulne g . Is bear "Crescent,’* Sendm2 cent stamp for li.-i-sse pamphlet. OR. HARTERMEDICINECO.. St. Unis. Ms. YOUNGMOTHERS! IFe Offer Xow « item "<l>/ which, tnanre* Safety to hlfm » f Mother and Child- " MOTHER’S FRIEND” Roba Confinement o f Its Rain, Horror and Hints, After nslnrone bottleof" Mother'* Friend" I antlered t>utlittle pain,end did not exp nonce that weakness afterward vaunt In inch ea-ee.-Mra. ANNIE QAO *, I,amar,Mo., Jail. I'nli. 111 „ Befit by expreea, eharyes prepa d. on teertpto* price.*UX)per buttie. BooktoMotlier-i mailed trea BKADFIELD RRflVLVIOH CO.« ATLANTA, «A. BOLD « T ALL DRUGGISTS. M a t r a t iM < m s _ T t< w S n B £ WagMtlwttn- ~ r I -iZ OLI jp»\;rd ;•» tho - iy, - Tdo w.□dowa t-JoBfd, drfiir, • Tbe porch <3<scried, wl Wo sat So the oM « r nrar. ybe autumn »'.i;ht v.ii| •pue o (1 tri -s on trolled; " Tboionj-gm'"- in the; r i The loll wl./.e piliar| Ah! Jove, '.life.*.hat,old iy. ■ i.-.. . Slnmi tliOHefd'ad^lml cold, < Bweet memories oov ft. , ' Old tbpafiWUi, olflL Put here *>-night, wtt me. There femes to swpet -. Suppose those dnrttil 1 were opened. And light nnd life How Joyous would laughter, , How gay the scene I bright; .And thenghiouislde l] . Ing, . The hearts within a] So if to me you ever 1 Then you wou ID j OPS Andwith the light off me, Mylire «ould smile ■—Thomas L. Wood ^Y \\ - hig-h places ■or * -scaffolds often now tniiiding-s too, for it rails 1 !once had vvhicl] dcatli. Ho awful is th | th a t not for all would I mount dors and stand, on merely the ttj lofty trie k wallj on the hard paV more feet beloyvl As for "oing- ti| thouf-hl, makes : a chill down my| I also avoid lc windows i n . structures nqv iniilfics. loir the fa up out and llic with. 'iGven the bi a ir make me the circus wilhl is burred from 1All this cam a boy, venture* as 1 have said, end to my ext 1 tvas may th e time, as and too tlio danger mean A largo tion near our] wooden steep] a huge ball The carp •and the sca| painters to A and cross. As for as the scaffold slats na.led aides formed its highest smaller ns tlie ball, rounded shape of tit to tlie cros: We hoys charcii a school use: watch tin* y they were "ing no bi steeple. I t Was, 1 night <<f th cross tbral One hoik working, ing npwtirlj m atter unt| bow haw climbing u| None hi think of. hnsard.n-1 “dares," outside 1: leatling t We all sloping rt eonnoiire, high ns f a ladder tower be( On thi other oiir hr« a Borne « little ^ them, ai F ones’ rUT - We tvonl So jfti n,