The Cedarville Herald, Volume 12, Numbers 27-52

The Cedarvil eHeraW. W. IL JILAIR, FubUihir. CEDARVILLE. : : t OHIO. THE QUESTIONING HEART. (Shall vo rememberwhen—Hfo at an end. FreetUromitsturmoilandbauntiaeunrest— Only the gruHte* our dust abull befriend, Green and blossomingover our breast? All of thesorrowundpassion and pain. Madness of anger and useless regretf. Toll that was futile andbopesthat werevnlnl Shall woremember—or shall we forgetf You, whose dear eyes looking deep in ourown, Openedthe gates to.aworldof delight, Faltbtullest guides whenwe wandered alobe Outmid the terrors of shadowand night Will the bondbreakwhen the garment of cloy Falls fromthe soul whore Its Impress Is sett In the strong light of eternity's day Shallwe remembeiv-or shall we forgctT Shall we remember the winter’s despair, . Earthand theheavehsunheeding our cryT Visions of spring-time, enchanting and fair; Moon-beamand star-beam against the blue • shyf All that Is lovely and all that Ispure, Cares of the commonplace, worry and fret? , What shall'we part from and what shall en­ dure? What must we cherish and what may forget) Vainly we question. Oblivion’s volt • Slowly is shrouding the past we have known; Faint grow the echoes of sob and of wall; Dust at our foot arc the idols outgrowa Hearts that have taught us love’s blessing and pain, V Eyes that with tears for oar woes bavo been wot, Voices that thrilled with hope's deathless ro- fraln. These, Heaven grant we may never forget! —Small D. Hobart, in Ladles’ Home Journal. R R O M A N C E TWO BROTHERS. B V E D O A H F A W C E T T , Auxson o r “T ub concessions of C laud ," “AN A mbtoous W oman ,” '‘T hb E vil : T hat M kn Do,” "A N ew YonK F amily ,” E tc . • ICopyrlght, ISO), By Edgar Fawcett.] CHAPTER I.—C ontinued . When lie came hack to dinner, he found her utawontedly grave. A largo tradesman’s bill had just been sent in, and she told him o f it with a meaning sigh. He answered her so blithely and indifferently that she stared at him in cold surprise. The hoys were more jocund and clamorous than usual, and once or twice she reprimanded "them with a frown and a sharp word; but Maynard playfully took their parts and even craved grace for them as regarded a second helping of dessert, while they watched him with astonished eyes, knowing well that papa was never frosty like mamma and yet that such tropical clemency in him was plainly rare. Afterdinner it was still bright with all the limpid luvo of an English vernal gloaming. The boys went out into the ivied garden, and their merry voices came to Maynard as ho waited for the jnoment in which the interview, should begin. Ills wife gavo a few orders to the maid, and then, was quitting the room, when he softly went wp to her side and said in a low voice: “ I want a little talk with yon, I mean now. Will you como into that don o f mine? I’d rather speak there, if you don’t mind.” She turned and looked at him in a sur­ prised ahd petulant way. ” 1had 6omo things to mend,” she answered. “ I’m behind in my mending. You see, we con only afford two servants.” He smiled, and put his hand on her shoulder. “ Soon it will not .be like that with us, Georgina.” She bit her lip, and a keen gleam pricked the dullness of her eyes. “ What do yon mean?” she asked. He almost whispered his next words, now, for the maid was still present, making her little official tinkles with the glasses and forks of the deserted dinner-table. " I mean that I’ve a great andprecious secret to tell yon, my dear. At times my breath almost fails me S31 think of iW A kind o f accident has pat me in the way of making an immense discov­ ery—one that shall not merely enrich you and me, hut one that shall be a priceless boon to the whole worldl” CHAPTER II. She watched him for a few seconds as though it had suddenly become known to her that ho had gone mad. Then, obeying a little gesture that he nukte, she followed him and went with him into the dusty, belittercd room where he had squandered, as it seemed to her, so many half-idle hours. May­ nard closed the window, for too strong * breeze blew into the chamber. As he did so ho watched a sunset that was simply one luminous orange haze, against which rose clusters of those red chimney-pots which invest with charm the fdrlorncst London purlieus. Then he suddenly turned, and saw that his wife had seated herself. This seemed a concession, and he at Once paid heed to it by dropping into a scat opposite her. She did not look conciliatory; Bhe did hot even look indulgent. But he Btrove not to care how she either looked or fieit, and flung one hand with Intimate Abandonment toward the chaos o f acl- •ntlflo utensils that filled the room. “ You see all these, Georgina? Well, I’ve gathered.mors than you guess from my long association with them. I need not tell yon how strong, was my pas­ sion for science when 1 first came •verse* to Cambridge. At Columbia College in New York 1 had convinced wysMJthatl could u m I as a chemist, a physicist, a man of esger search Into the actual,” “Oh, you need pot tell me thit r, Eg­ bert. I know it well enough.. Why should I not?” “ But you thought it all waste of time after you had—I mean, after wo were married. . . . Well, pursuing these studies, I became specially fond of the wonderful and enticing ways of elec­ tricity, It happened, about four yean ago, that I employed this great and mystic force daring , a series of essays in the line of chemical analysis, One day I drew back frightened from the re­ sult of a certain experiment.” “ Frightened?” repeatedGeorgina. She was clearly interested. Instantly Maynard felt himself thralled by a very enthusiasm of narra­ tion. He again began to speak with great nimbleness of tongue, but with sorry disregard of his auditor. Present­ ly Georgina stopped him, a ring of fa­ tigue in her tones. “ I don’t understand your technical terms, ‘Egbert. They confuse me. But am I right in deducing from what you’ve already said that you found a certain new kind of electricity never even conceived of before?” He nodded eagerly2 “ Yes—yes; that’s just it. I’ll be simpler; I should have been simpler when I first spoke. Of course you have seen toward what my preamble tended; you’re too intelligent not to have seen. Ono single eternal principle of life spreads through the whole universe. That principle, that essence, no mortal has- ever, yet at­ tained. To attain it, as I soon shall do, would in many cases have been defiance of death. For such an elixir—” “ Elixir?” his wife broke in, with a faint, jeering laugh. “ That-has a very familiar sound, and not dt dll a credi­ ble one. ” t , Ho bowed, with curt; swift acquies­ cence. “ Oh, yes. No doubt I used the wrong word. It has u Cagliostro-like echo, I admit. But I don’t mean that sort of thing a bit, Georgina. I have ac­ complished, in a partial way, the liquefaction of electricity. It is. a fluid; as we scientists lmve always inorb or less supposed. Itut none of us have thus fur been able to find out any thing concern! sg it except its effects. It al­ ways hitherto, has been, so to ‘speak; we never presumed to say of it that it i$ anywhere. But I have imprisoned it in an actual liquid, through processes of molecular and atomic fusion with that quo elemental body wliioh I huvo chanced to see that it loves, clings to, and is conquered by. But as yet my achieved results arc not wholly triumphant, The liquid I have obtained is still too volatile. It evaporates with enormous rapidity; it needs a third force to slip in nud prevent this con­ tinual disjunctive trend. Such a force I am on the threshold of finding. It will not be hard to find. I almost divine it nt this moment. I lutvo crossed the threshold of a superb conquest; I pause, as it were, in the antechamber. And 1 have paused intentionally. Do you know why? The excitement lias been too in­ tense. I wish to have my triumph shared with me. Will not you share it? Will not you rejoice with ino in this magnificence of discovery, greater than man has ever yet approached, however he may in past years have dreamed, through trust in fable and superstition, that he might possibly reach it?” Georgina had drooped her head a lit­ tle and pressed her lips tightly togeth­ er. Those words “ fable” and “ supersti­ tion” met her ears with an ominons note. She remembered (had she ever forgot­ ten?) the abhorred skepticism of licr husband. “ Yon mean, then,” she slowly said, “ that you may soon discover a power to prolong human life beyond its natural term?" “ Yesr-I mean that,” ho replied, with vehemence, “ and I mean more.” “ More?” “ There is no reason—none whatever —why a human being with no organic disease or lesion, should not live for­ ever, while fed and buoyed by this splen­ did stimulus. I —” “ Hush,” she interrupted, rising, ncr face was very pate, and her features twitched a little as she framed her next sentence. “ I am sorry that you’ve told me anything o f this. I didn’t Ask you to tell it. But now that you’ve done so, Egbert, I can only assure you how im­ pious it strikes me—what a shameful revolt It appears against the sacred laws o f God 1” • She rose, after this, and promptly swept from the room. Maynard could have cursed himself for telling her. The breach between them seemed in a . lew abort minutes abysmally to have widened, lie might have known that her mind would have taken some swell view of his grand project. Thenceforth ovary hint of hia old love perishes, The lost remnant of tenderness for this woman had given place to a dread lest she might seek to thwart and balkhis de­ signs. But soon he had controlled such dread and even scoffed at it. Still; ,be felt humiliated, insulted, slapped on the check. Were it not for the boys, ho told himself, ho would never vvillingly look again on the face of his wife. He went out into the breezy starlit garden, where his sons’ laughter had lately rang. They had gone into the house now, and were perhaps being undressed for bed by tbeir mother, who had always strictly enforced upon them early hours. Ah, such u motherl Maynard shuddered there in the chill of tbo nearing night, and as he (shuddered a pain darted through his chest and he coughed. Then, in a little while, the handkerchief which he put to his lips grew stained, and somewhat copiously, with blood. A pang of fear now thrilled him;- What if he should die before com­ pleting his transcendant work? He had had that cough for years, andbeen care­ less about it. Possibly the very agita­ tion through which he had just passed had.developed a furtive lung weakness of whose real existence he hod been but vaguely aware. The last step in his great accomplish­ ment had yet to be taken. He spent several hours of feverish work in his laboratory that night and went to bed feeling strangely feeble. The next day ho visited a certain famous London phy­ sician, who told him tilings which ho no sooner heard than he began to doubt them, after the fashion of countless con­ sumptives.. The mortal who suffers from any pulmonary. ill seldom can see bis own threatening doom. -Still a young man, Maynard had been attacked with an arterial hemorrhage whose ef-. fccts absolute, rest might have appeased though never cured. But rest of any sort was precisely what he now refused to take. A double incentive hereafter swayed him. Ho desired to perfect his unparalleled drug, andhe desired to use it upon his own impaired body. It could not endow him,; he. argued, with immu­ nity from future disease, but it might prolong his life-for many a decade by the intense nutriment it gave to other organs than those already harmed; His wife watched his labors with cold disrelish. She perceived that his health was failing; he had never borno the look of u man free from all lurking malady, and now his glassy eyes and sunken checks told a somber tale. Al­ ways previously willing that his boys should go «fndcomo as they chose during his studies and experiments, he got into the habit of exiling them from his pres­ ence while lie brooded and toiled. The .two little fellows loved him very dearly and resented being thus proscribed. Ho would endeavor, at intervals, to console them for this bated denial, but often while giving them the fatherly caresses for which they both hungered in their pretty eagerness, ho would either dis­ cern, or fancy tliut be discerned, a sort of smoldcriug disapproval on the part of their mother. One day he said to himself, with a wild gladness: “ It is found! 1 knew victory w'as waiting just beyond my reach, and I have put forth the one- needed effort and grasped it!” ■. . . That evening lie poured into a largo flask what lie felt even more than firmly convinced was the energy, woh- drously materialized and liquefied, which permeated, in its vital sovereign­ ty, the entire ’’universe. Ho was veiy unnerved and exhausted; ho had worked for many hours without tho least pause. It was nearly midnight, anil ho went to ’ one of, his windows, raising it recklessly, and letting a raw wind blow into tho chamber from a clouded, opaque sky. On the sill of tho window (which lie forgot to close) was a wilted rose-bush in a common earth­ en pot. He drew the plant in from its cheerless ledge of shelter, and poured round its root some of the fluid which he hod so lately distilled. Then lie took a gloss apd made himself a potion from tho some source. He seated himself be­ side tho tablo on which he had placed the plant. He was about to lift the glass to liis lips when something that a saner and less pas­ sionately excited mindmighthave called a mere vision o f its own over-wrought powers, burst upon him with delicious violence of confirmation. The drooping stems revived; the faded leaves grew hardy and green; at the ends of the slim stems buds broke, and then swelled un­ til pink petals gleamed between their dividing segments. At once these petals unfolded, and rich roses were born. 11was the magic of the fairy tale suddenly turned real; it was the giving to necromancy an every-day gear. . , *Butnow whathad suddenlyhappened? Mnynard, with colorless face and strain­ ing eyes, leaned forward. -The rose­ bush was again its previous withered self. Just the same old dry, thorny stalk, and the same effete, blighted Icafngc! What did this re-transforma­ tion mean? Had he dreamed the fanci­ ful and waked to the real? , . In an­ other moment he rose, staggering; his brain whirled, and it seemed rs if the floor dropped away from him in gulfs of darkness. Groping for tho hell-rope, lie pulled it twice o r thrice. Then he sank . . sank , . It was not with any Sense o f painful fall, however; it was more ns if arms caught him and let him gently down in their embrace. But he passionately recollected and craved the fluid. Where had he left it? Ah, he was incapable o f thinking where, And yet ho so wanted it, he so wanted it! * . But soon afterward— -even scones than hia wife came hurrying Into the room— he hod ceased to know if be wanted it or not. 1 A great vein had burst His life hung by a thread for days. All this while ho was unconscious. Then 'came a time during which he saw distorted shapes about his bed, and among them the familiar, yet altered face of his wife. He strove to ask her for that cherished flask; did he fail to make his meaning known? He could not decide; she had not the look of ono who even heard him, apart from heeding. There waa a deadness o f unconcern in her feat- uresj more stolid to him than stone, One day all the ghosts had withdrawn their grim shapes, and he found him­ self lying w(th clear intellect though strengthless frame. Georgina entered, and he saw her start a little as she bent her gaze upon him. “ You’re better,” he heard her say, as if she were talking of the weather having improved from rain to'sunshinc. “ But you must not speak; you must not try to speak. Tho doctor forbids it.” He did nottry to speak. He had begnn to think of his beloved flask again. ms WIFE CAME ntniKYIXO INTO THE R oom . ' It might work marvels in him, though, of course,' its fight with his disease most end in final defeat. Still, he wanted to do a certain thing regard­ ing it. He yearned to enshrine the formula of its creative process in a sort of lost will and testament for his eldest Bon, Sylvan. He wondered, as be lay there, mute and stirless, who “ the doctor” was, and whether she had not called in his old friend, BossThorndyke, Presently he found this true. As Thorndyke stood at his bedside (a fair; tall, stalwart man of liis own age) May­ nard feebly stretched forth one hand. The young doctor took it, but at once commandingly, though softly, said: “ You musn't speak, Egbert. . I’ll get you paper and pencil, old fellow, if there’s any thing you must tell me. But it’s a great deal better for you not to bother your head about any tiling in life for the next-five days at least” “ I wish that you would bring me," Maynard was presently writing, “ llie large flask of white liquid which you will find in my study.” Thorndyke left! the room and was gono a good while. “ My dear Egbert,” ho said, on returning, “ I can find no trace of the flask of which you speak. Could it possibly—?’’ and while May­ nard interrupted him withaqukjk nega­ tive he lifted into sharp evidence-sev­ eral phials which ho had brought from tho laboratory. Maynard had absolute confidence in Ross Thorndyke. They had been worm friends at Cambridge, and in a manner had continued so ever since. Two qual­ ities in the young physician had always won liis devout respect: Thorndyke had a crystal reasoning power and a veraci­ ty o f robust vigor. To be at once -so lucid-minded and so honorable was in GERARD WOULD LAY HIS WARM CHEEK AGAINST THE THIN HAND. itself a passport intoMaynard’s admira­ tion. “ I wish 1 could keep Ross up more than I do,” he had often mused, “ and not let him drop’ as I somehow must.” Still, since his marriage, Maynard had smoked a good many social pipes in the company of his friend, though latterly they had seen less and less of each other, as the big hum and bustle of London had seemed to slip seperativcly between them. While he now heart! Dr. Thorndyke speak, an expression o f pain touched Maynard’s huelcss face, lie had swiftly suspected his wife of duplicity; he could not refrain from the belief that she hnd served him a horrid and stealthy trick. 4 |TO BE CONTINUED.] Very Likely. Teacher—What is the plural of child? Tommy— Twins, I *fippo*e.—Tex#a SUttnR) won’t believe who has to suffer, ’ And it’s needless. There’s a medicine— a legitimate medicine-— that’s made to ptop woman’s suf­ fering and cure'woman’s ailments. It’s Dr.;Pierce’s Favorite Prescrip­ tion. It’s purely vegetable and perfectly harmless — a powerful general, as well as uterine, tonic and nervine, imparting vigor and strength to the whole system. For periodical pains, weak back, bearing- down sensations, nervous prostra­ tion, and all “ female -complaints,” it’s a positive remedy. It improves digestion, enriches, the blood, dispels aches and pains, melancholy and nervousness, brings refreshing sleep, and restores health and strength. 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