The Cedarville Herald, Volume 13, Numbers 1-21

# The Cedarville Herald w, x b u u x i ' CRDARVILL* t t i ( A l a OOWH O N T H E FARM . When • bor Xu*edto dw*lt In shorn* I loved sowed, Esr »w»y amongthe ploverend (he toee, Where the mornlng-«toryvino Bound (he oebtn poroh did twine, And the roWnrodbrosst **ngamong the tree* There were brothers youngend gay, A father old and gruy, And a mother dear to Keep u* from all harm; There I pMeedllfe’e goldenhour*, . BanningWUdamong thetlowere, In my bojbcxxr* happy home, down on the ■ ; farm, Ohorue: Manywearyhour*have pawed BlnoeXraw the (ridpleoe lost, Butmemory null atealao’er mellke a oharmi ■very oldfamiliar place, . Every kind and loving face, In my boyhood’s boppy home, dawn on the form, And to day a i I draw near The old home t lovedao dear, Aatranger'WRnea to meet ms at thedoor. •Bound the plase there’aman*a Chong*, And the faces all seem strange— Mot a loved one now to greet me a* of yore. Mymother dear la laid 'Meath the elm tree’a pleasant shade, Andthe golden summer eon shine* bright and warm; In.the old familiarplace loan seo a stranger’* (acts In my father’s old arm-chair, down on the farm. Chorus: Many wearyyears have passed Since I saw the old place lest, Bntmemory still stealso'er me like a charm; Every Oldfamiliar place. Everykind and loving too*, In my boyhood’s happy hours, down on the’ farm, t , —BuffaloNews. E& ... * RnwrSltwwri •:■v l& tfmWmr CHAPTER V lt—C ontinued . " I never received any message," he aai^, still gazing a t here " I should have come sooner if I had. I thought you wished to forget old times.” Olive looked up suddenly. "Why did you think that?" she asked in a tremu­ lous tone. "Well, Xcan hardly say.” He looked down awkwardly. "But perhaps it won’t do any harm to tell you th a t it was Michael’s fault,’*he added, a deep flush mounting to his forehead. "He treats old friends as if they were dust. He gives himself airs, and walks past me as if I were a gate-post. ‘Take heed. Olivet a man who forgets his friend may be faitblesa to his sweet­ heart." "Yon must not say such things," said Olive, flushing in her turn. "Michael la preoccupied—that’s all. I am very sorry that be slighted you. Aaron, bu t it must he unintentional, He is absorbed In his own concerns. He is clever, you know, and his brain is always a t work." "Yes, yes; his brain is always a t work; 1 know th a t well enough. And it’s all for self that he works-*mark that, Olivo. He mown* to get on, and he will get on; and he doesn't care who falls as long as he can rise,"* Olive sighed, then looked up again. " I don’t know how to.talk to you," she said. "You had a better opinion of him in days gone by." "1 didn’t know all th a t waa in him in daya gone by," answered Aaron, lifting m havagot brains," said Aaron, bltterty, t’They’ve lowered my wages. Otfv*, and tbojVe taken away ntp hope of making a home for Jane. You’d have thought, perhaps, that Michael, who’s so much withMr-. Edword, would have mid a word in.my favor. But If he did eey anything it was against me.” . OUve grew very pale. "Oh, Aaron,” she answered, faintly, "Xam afraid you are unjust. Michael cannot have spoken against you, Bnt don’t lose heart,” she added, trying to brighten him. "And don’t lose confidence in yourself. Jane will wait years for yon dear Aaron; Xam sure of that. How I wish I could do something to comfort •you!” . 1 "You may need comfort for your­ self yet, my girl,” be said, in a quiet voice. . The words haunted h e r after he waa gone. She sa t alone by the window and watched the golden lights fading from the housetops; and it seemed as U the falling dusk had cast a gloom over her own spirit,. All the pain and sor­ rows of others* lives were pressing upon her own life, All her vague doubts were taking definite shape, and menacing her future. She was almost Sony th a t she had sent for Aaron, and yet she knew th a t she had acted for the' best. lufore his words n*w , Her qwaaHtoM had broken ln ‘ up on the g reat ptamn tbafcbe waa soaking fe rtb s future; and. In tro th , success was. so u s e r th a t ha had * righ t to th ink of using It, i t w no vsgue vision th a t he had been con­ juring np, the goal was a ll bn t gained, and already ha was building, in fancy, the palace in which he should taint Ids rest. Rest! The word-had np real meaning for him, the longings hr his h ea rt could never bq stilled, never be satisfied by the attainment of his first desire. Poor Olive’s little .speech stirred up an angry scorn within him. He had been striving with a ll hie might fo r grand things, and any of the commonest pleasures in life were good enough for her, " I am not quite such* fool," he said, “as to mistake a lory hour In the sun­ shine for perfect happiness. If this was the best moment th a t life could give .me X should not earn to go on living. Olive, yon have no aspirations. Yon do not-want to rise, yon do 'no t sympa- MU XiOOnaD AT B u s BJCABCKIXeLY, his gloomy eyes to hers. "He's a Jog- g rnaut, Olive—that’s what he Is. ra’t le t him crush you Under. his wheels. As fo r me, it doesn't matter much, I’m only a poor fellow a t my bast," “I am not afraid for myself. He is always good to me," she said, with a little flash of womanly indignation. "My only concern is for you, Aaron. You are vutof health and Obt of spirits. I hope yon haven’t forgotten Jane,” "Forgotten herl" The red flush mounted to his forehead again. "Is t h a t likely? I ’m not one of-the for­ getful sort. Only I daren’t think of her too much, because there are thoughts th a t drive a man wild. When I'm lonesome in my room a t n igh t her dear faoe comes before me and makes toy heart ache with a bitter, griawingpairi.” "Oh, Aaron) what do you mean?" tried Olive in distress. "Jane would not pain anyone—you least of alll Why • a n t you two be happy together?" ^Msppinasi 'la fo r other psopls Who CHAPTER VIO; “MKE sw a n SKUA JANGIXD OUT 0 9 TUNE AND HARSH." Two young faces, were sheltered under the light shadow of some larches in Kew Gardens, I t was a'Sunday afternoon; Sunday groups were scat­ tered a ll over tho grounds, and the man followed their movements' with a look of disgust; but the girl, sitting quietly on the grass, took in all the beauty of the place with pure and simple delight,. The sun of paradise seemed to he shin­ ing on these golden paths; it was one o f those moments when a poor daughter of earth has caught a glimpse of tha t old garden where God’s first pair of lovers rejoiced together. They had talked a little, but silence seemed' to suit them best. It was a rare thing for MichaelChase to be silent; but there were matters in his mind that he did not care to discuss with his companion, He had been kind—languidly klndperlmps -but Olive was well contented. He had spent some hours in her company with­ out finding a single faultw ith anything th a t she wore, or said; or did. She could enjoy the bliss of sitting by his side in peace. .This she thought, was the sort of happiness that she'; bod al­ ways waited and longed for. Flowers, the soft shade of trees, summer sun­ light, and the presence of the man who was the sole king of her heart. What more could a woman desire? But she did not give voice to her joy. If you talk about happiness it is too a p t to de­ sert you. I t U an unrestful spirit, who always hovers over us with wings out­ spread, ready for ah instant flight. Some one psssingby the couple under the larches said to himself th a t the man was not half worthy of the girl. Her face, with its rich, sunlit loveliness, had haunted Seaward Aylstone for many a day; and now he came upon i t una­ wares, glowing* out of the soft gloom of thetrees. He had come down tot Kew to study certain effects of light and shade, and then almost forgot the pur­ pose that had brought him there. Yes;, it was the same face th a t ho had seen bonding over the flowers In the Regent street shop,And it had seemed to him th a t one of his vague dreams of beauty hod suddenly taken shape and become a reality. But this was the first time he had ever seen her out of the shop and its surroundings, and all her charms seemed doubled and trebled to-day. Her lips, scarlet as japonica blossoms, were parted in an uncon­ scious smile. Hitherto he hsd only be­ held her grave; now she was quietly, yet girlishly gay. Until this moment be hsd not realized how young she was, nor how new the world appeared to her. That fresh delight, that un­ troubled belief which only comes once in a lifetime, these glorious follies of youth, were h e n still. The young man by her side, short, slightly made and blue-eyed, inspired Seaward with sudden and unutterable detestation. The young man’s eyes had a cunning and complacent twinkle in them, and they were set too near to­ gether. Yet lie was what women call "nice looking," and had a fresh com­ plexion and fair, curly hair; and his clothes were really very well made and carefully—too carefully put on. I t was clear th a t he did not belong to ’Arty and his friends, and his face gave evi­ dence of sober and decorous living. But Instead of respecting him for his vir­ tues, Seaward Aylstone only disliked him the more for them. I t was wrong, it Was unreasonable, but it was human. There is a certain form of moral excel­ lence which never falls to be exasper­ ating. The pair were quite unconscious of his scrutiny; the young man was too much self-absorbed to notice him, and the girl was too liappy to be observant, Ho went his way, feeling unaccounta­ bly soured, and left them still sitting in their shady nook Under the trees. But If Seaward Aylstone hod lingered a little longer in their neighborhood he would have seen a ' change in the lovely face that had been so bright with inno­ cent joy. Olivo’s cup Was so full th a t it brimmed over a t lost, Instead of pre­ serving tha t spell of blissful silence un­ broken, she was unwise cnongl; to apeak, "Michael, Is not this A perfect day? Is it possible for os ever to be happier than We are a t this moment?" The curl of his Up answered her even n r KEW GARDENS, thize with me in my effort to succeed, I t is disappointing, very disappointing to find that you are just as common­ place and unambitious os you used to be a t Eastmeon.” For an Instant she did not reply. There were the same velvet glades, the, same rich foliage, the same blaze of flame-colored blossoms .before her eyes, bu t the glory of the gardens was gone. The gates of her Eden had closed without a single note of warning,- the bright spirit, who had been Binging his sweet Bong in her cars, had soared far out of reach. Her golden hour was over. " I am sorry th a t I have disappointed you." she said a t last. Her voice was as musical as ever, hu t there was a: touch of proud patience in her manner that irritated him more than pettishness would have done. Clever as he was, high as be bad risen, he bad failed of late to make her acknowledge his su­ periority. And he knew th a t he had not spoken truly in saying th a t sho was the same girl of the old Eastmeon days, She was, in some respects, a different Olive, far more cultivated, f a r more beautiful, and with a slow growing con­ sciousness of her own worth. "You don’t appreciate me," he wenit on, venting on her the pent-ap anger of weeks. "Any idle fellow who had not two Ideas in his head would have suited you as well as I do. You ask for noth­ ing better than common enjoyment, cheap holiday pleasures, such as any workingman can give his .sweetheart. And I have been toiling and racking my brainB to win money and a high social position for ns both!" "Michael," she said gently, yet brave­ ly, "you are saying things th a t are not true, No one could ever have suited me as well as the man I have always loved. And I am not unambitious; I, too, have dreamed of a higher life, and have striven after my ideal in my own way," "In yourown way, yes; but no tin my way," ho answered quickly, with an angry glitter in his blue eyes. "Perhaps not quite in your way, Michael. I cannot believe—I never have believed—tha t success is the sole object of existence. Nor do I think th a t suc­ cess alone ever yet made a man or woman happy. George Eliot says that *wc can only have the highest happi­ ness, such as goes along with being a great map, by having wide thoughts, and much feeling for the rest of the world as well as ourselves.* ” "George Eliot was a mere dreamer, with the gift of telling her dreams in good English," he cried, impatiently. " I suppose that idiot, Samuel Wake, has been giving her books to you, and making you more sentimental and cloudy than you were before. Why don’t you read Smiles and clear the mist away from your brain?” " I have read Smiles, Michael,” she re­ plied quietly, "And I am weak enough to care more for tho Robert Stephenson who took thought for little children and birds, limn for tho great inventor. The very side of him that you think lowest, seems to me highest. Remem­ ber l a m not depredating his splendid energy, I onlymean th a t it was not the noblest part of man, nor could it, with­ out other qualities, have made him real­ ly great." . , The sparkle of wrath had died out of Michael’s eyes; bnt his face expressed a cold contempt, "We are wasting time here," lie said, frigidly. "I will take you back to your uncle's house, Olive; and then 1 win go home to my own room. Tills hot day has glyen me a headache." She woe anxious and remorseful in an instant, ready to blame herself for not having seen that ho Waa suffering. She hod been wrapped in a happy dream amdiff tka trees* wwif fill tba white h r h a i baan ottUae kv her aids, f s e l lu Waary and ill! And then shs had wor­ ried him with her talk, and made the headache worse* "Oh! Michael,” aha said, rising, gad looking a t him with a glance th a t few men could have met unmoved; " I am afraid I have been selfish. I t was for my sake that we came here, dear; and you have paid dearly for the .pleasure you have given me. What can I do for you?” "Nothing," he answered, as ooldly as before. "I shall go to my room and rest. Mine is a hard-working brain, and anything in the shape of a dispate always disturbs me," "Bear Michael, if Any words of mine have disturbed yon I am more than sorry. As to disputes, we will, never have any .more. We are always une in heart, are we not?" As she spoke she clung to his arm for a second, trembling, and with her heart heating. He disengaged himself a t once, ■ 'People are looking a t us," he said, "Do remember th a t we are in Kew gar­ dens, and not in Eastmeon fields! I am in no mood now for scenes and senti­ mental talk, Olive." She looked ait him again once, stead­ ily and wistfully, with eyes that seemed to resd him through and through. Then she walked on quietly by his side, pale, hu t calm; and troubled him with no more loving . words or inconvenient demonstrations. The Sunday throngs were crowding all about them; fathers and mothers with their children, girls walking hap­ pily, sometimes noisily, with their sweethearts. Their voices and laughter seemed to come from an outside world in which Olive hod no part. She scarce­ ly knew whether they were phantoms or living people; only Michael, with his cold set face, was miserably xeah He would not look a t hCr, he did not speak, and they reached the station and got into a train in silence. CHAPTER IX . “GREAT nSEUNGS HATH SHE OVHEROWN." Unclo^Vake was alone in the house when Olivo came in; his wife had gone to see their married daughter, and had left him, surrounded with books, a t the open window of the sitting-room up? stairs. He had not thought tha t Olive would return till evening. When he opened the door and saw her standing outside alone, he knew th a t the time he was looking te r was nigh a t hand. I t was a time that he dreaded, for there was no torture on earth that Samuel Wake would dot have endured to save a woman from pain. But who does not know those dark places where we must leave our beloved ones to walk alone? I t is .their feet, not ours, that must tread the thorny path; we can but wait till the trial is ended, before wo come with our balms of healing. And the old man, wist, with the knowledge of one who has studied humanity, was waiting pa tlcntly for the hour when his help would be needed. "So you have come back to cheer the old uncle in his solitude," he said, aa she entered, "My wife has gone to spend the evening with poor Jessie.” She tiled to speak, bu t her lips trembled, and the words would not come. "You are tired, my chOd," he added, with a tenderness tha t set her tears flowing. ‘‘Go and lie down on the old sofa In tho parlor upstairs; it is a good resting place, os I have reasonto know. No need to talk to the old unde! He understands silenoe, and it comforts him,to look a t you, even if he does not hear your voice." Already soothed, although she could not hide her tears, Olive went straight to her own little room, and laid aside the pretty bonnet that she had trimmed with such natural pleasure. What had she to do with "the outward adorning" any more? A sore heart has little thought for the body tha t contains it. Poor OUve tossed the bonnet on the bed, and glanced with disgust a t the bunch of scarlet poppies and wheat- ears that she had arranged with skill­ ful fingers. Michael had not given them one look, mid'they had been .worn for his eyes alone. I t was no small consolation to feel tha t she need not wear a mask before Uncle Wake. He had seen that she was crying, and she knew that he Would not question her. She went softly down to the large parlor, and made her way to the -old chintz-covered sofa th a t was pushed into a shady COTr ner out of the light, and then, worn out with her sorrow, she closed her eyes and lay Still. Large men, like Samuel Wake, often tread lightly, and his niece did not hear his approach tfil he came to her s’.da, speaking in the deep, kindly voice Aat always conveyed ideas of help and strength. "Come, Olive,” he said, " I am aa good a tea-maker as you can find anywhere, Brink this and ea t some of my toast. Young people always forget food whei they go out and take their pleasure.” To please him the weary brown head, lifted itself from its resting-place; Olive ate and drank, and was surprised to find herself really better for the tea. He went back to his hooks, a id she sank again on tho sofa cushions, but presently her voice Called him to her side otice riiore. "Uncle, do you mind sitting nearer to me? 1 am so very, very lonely." The poor voice quavered sadly. .Sam­ uel Wake rose from his seat and drew a chair do te to th« couch. (to nx A •ftA FTV OEER. §A mi m m ** f Hr Wklek a Wary Oi* ■».. fttnapeflFoemM, Deer have laaraad wonderful cnnnln* item their hardships In ths ehu*. •ometlmes a wary stag, started up from hie covert, will ran into another leaf* haunt where* young animal hoa tehee refuge, and turn him out, lying down In hie place, no doubt hoping with Ml his panting heart th a t the hunters wi£| not know the difference. Hurried forth from th a t resting-place, he then doubles and turns, and perhaps takes to ths wa­ ter, not only 0* Solace for his heated blood but to throw the houuds off the scant. One old atsg, mentioned in "Forty-five yeans of -Sport,” hod eves more advanced ideas than these. For many yeans pest Lord Lovat hsd been, trying to hunt down this stag, nicknamed "Square Toes," but as the animal had extraordinary cunning, it was fifteen yeans, before he succeeded in getting a shot a t it. At last, one day, when he and hia stalker were in hot pursuit of "Square Toes” and his several hinds, the animals ascended a hill, and as they reached the sky-line, the hinds alone seemed to cross it. Again ihej old strategist hod mysteri­ ously disappeared. The stalker took down his glass and shut i t with a slap, and Lord Lovat, equally disgusted, resigned himself to the usual situation. Among the men present, however, was a new hand, who- declared bashfully, tha t one-of the hinds, in going over the ’sky-line, ap­ peared to have three ears. "My lord,” -cried the-stalker, joyfully, on hearing the remark, "yon stag i» with the hinds; we’d better be going.” However, Lord Lovat had seen m> reason for believing the stag to bo there, and still hesitated. "There’s no time to be lost,” insisted ■ the man, “Come, my lord., let us be . going!” “But how on earth do you make; that out?” asked his master. "Well, my lord,” replied the man, "If you will be starting, to save time, I will toll you as we go. When you get to the top of the hill we shall see Square Toes or I am mistaken, for do you riot know' yon lad said one hind seemed to have three ears? Well, it’s just possible you third eav was a brow antler, and the canny beast has ail this time been ‘do­ ing us’ by throwing, his horns on hia bock, and getting in among the hinds, when going over the sky-line.” Over-the hill they rode, and found tho clever stag placidly feeding. Sad to re­ late. his career as an inventor was then and there cu t short, but .life .‘‘method” has probably passed on, in tradition, to other members of the herd,-—Youth’s Companion. » "."T"'"...: . The May Wide Awake Opens with a delightfully fantastic and oriental rhyme descriptive of the birth of the gamut. I t is by Theton Brown with a frontispiece illustration by Bur­ gess, and is called "Tho 'Bamboo,Fife." Tho leading article of the number (splen­ didly illustrated) is Adeline Fordliatu's stirring description of "A Mcdiaaval Stronghold,” the great French castlo of Pierrafonds, which, dismantled by Richelieu, has been restored by tho famous French architect, ViollcHc* Due. Philip Hale’s story, "A Grain of Sand,” is one of the gpod things of the number. Miss nelen Gray Cone toils about "A Picture Book of IW '--W il­ liam Blake's home-made and haud-made ‘Songs of InnCoence;’*Alexander Black has a unique sleeping-car story. “ Upper Nine;” M. B, Ryerson contributes a charming story of a little studio girl, ‘Phebo Stout—Sculptor.” There is a bright story for Decoration Day, “Al­ most a Deserter;” by Miriam llrastow, and a stirring ode for the same memori­ al occasion, addressed to American boys and girls—"Decoration Day," by EJ- bridge S. Brooks; Mrs. Emma Hunting- ton Nason has a charming Bet of Verses, “My Lady of Make-Believe;” LieuC.- CoL Thorndike gives in his series of One Man'* Adventure*, an account oi his “Getting Away from Gibraltar.” —A party of cultivated people (says tile CongrcgUtioUalist) stood before an ancient cathedral admiring its grandeur, .which Several centuries of existence had failed to dim. The noise of the cars in the immediate vicinage so an­ noyed one of the ladies of the party tha t she impulsively said; " I wonder why they built the cathedral sonear the railroad!” ’ —■Young Medical Man—Thank good­ ness, I have pulled through my exams a t last, I t is horrible to think of all the hard work I have had to go through these last four years, Elderly Practi­ tioner—Well, my dear colleague, there is one consolation; you won't have any­ thing to do for a long, long while new. Der FJoln_____ _______ —To Regulate the Length of the Se„- mon—Vestryman—"Have you talking clocks?” Jeweler—*"! can have one made to ovder." Vestryman—“Well, we wnnt one th a t will pronounce the bene­ diction a t noon and a t 9 o’clock p, m.”— Jeweler’s Wceckly, ■Polly—So you are really arid truly engaged—how did i t cl me about? Pat ay—Well, papa said he didn't care, mama said she didn’t (arc, Jack said M didn't care, and I ’m sure I didn't care, so we became engaged. ■Rredtoit.—YottingCappc—"Hinith* son is a good sailor, He must be used to brine.” Moyne (Top—"He ought to be. ‘Us father runs a pickle factory,"—Kate •’icld'a Washington.