The Cedarville Herald, Volume 13, Numbers 1-21

m h t * The Cedarville Herald w. H. BLAIR, PubUib»t, CFIDAUVIIXE. OHIO, THE RULING PASSION. .A tiny tot of only throe, Sweet us tho dew the rose inhales, • I gayly dunce upon my knee * The while 1 tell her fairy- tales.’ Unclouded Is her placid hrow;. “No euro," Eiuao x, '‘such litres distress!" ■"Dear me," says abo, "I wonder how I'd better make my dolly's dress?". A (air young bride in queenly gowns Cotacs down the grand cathedral staler 'The mighty organ sweetly sounds, And on her lips a saintly smilo, And in her heart s prayer—not so, # ' Tor truthfully we must confess She’s.thinking this: “I’d like to know. Whitt folks afe saying of my dress?" A matron pear the {gates of death With, weeping kindred at her sido, ' A11 feartnl that each, fleeting breath Will bear her soul across tho tide, Sho trios to speak 1 Sho faintly clasps Tho kindly form that bonds abovo, And with ber dying breath she gasps: “See that my shroud is ruffled, lovat" If all th e Scriptures say is true, Ther'6’11bo more women, ten to one, In that swoot by and by whoroyou And 1 may meet when life Is done. But all tho joys designed to bless— Bright crowns and harps with golden strings— Won’t please the womon'there unless Each has the nicest pair of wings, —Memphis Appeal. luKf^TOtrStrv ?"V Praorr0!«wx; CHAPTER Xin. —C ontinued . . Nearly thirty years have gone by /since Charles Dielcens wrote about the Savoy churchyard and the quiet pre­ cinct. ‘‘I think that on-summer nights the dew falls here," he said; “tho only dew that is shed in all London, beyond the tears of the hdmeless." And these very words may he spokon of this spot to-day, so green and fresh is the grass and so beautiful are the trees. 3?he place is unchanged, and the familiar figure of the chaplain, known and loved by everybody, is still constantly seen In his old' haunts. The surroundings are altered; “tho simple, dwelling houses, with their white doorsteps and {green blinds," have .been swept away; T>ut the coalies still “ touch their sou’- westers to him as he glides about," and - the children's faces brighten a t his greeting. The churchyard was quiet and de­ serted when Olive ventured irf and sat down to rest upon a scat under the ittecs, Sho was in perfect harmony ’with the tranquil lights and shadows; ;and the grave beauty of tho old gray ’walls, on which the record of centuries •was written so legibly, yet without any rsign of neglect or decay. The chapel, in its venerable strength, stood in the midst of all. tho active life of to-day, and linked the present to the post. In th a t old church, the good and peaceful Fuller spoke loving words to those who sa t within tho walls, and crowded about tho windows and doors to get within reach of his voice. And there, too, ho preached his last sermon to the wedding couple, who were members of his flock, and was carried out of his be­ loved sanctuary to die. - There were no regrets for the dignities so lately be- stowed upon him, no troubles about worldly things; but only “all (humble thankfulness and submission! to God’s welcomo providence." .Olive sa t there and meditated, and saw the yellow leaves dropping slowly in the still sunsbbao. Watching them idly a t first, she began, after a time, to remember that these very leaves had taken the sun and dew of spring; and all the freshness and fragrance of those earlier days came back to her with a sudden thrill, stirring her with emo­ tions which sho had believed to bo al­ most dead. Ilow soon tho autumn of h e r life hod come! It was tranquil; it m igh t bo sweet; h u t tho gladness of springtide is the one irrecoverable joy that, in this world, can never be granted to us again. She was no longer bitter and deso­ late, yet the sense of a lost youth (which comet oftener to those still young, than to the old) was too strong for her a t this moment. Something Arose in her throat; the tears filled her ayes, and she thought she would allow them to flow without restraint. They did flow and plcnteously. Once set flowing they would not stop, for thoughts and memories came crowding after them. Every scene in her brief experience seemed to ho suddenly re­ vived a t this moment; voices, long husjied, were calling to her from the past, and drowtiing all the sounds of the present. Tho habit of sclf-rc- atraint, so constantly cultivated for tho .write of others, was btoken through a t tost. When n t length flier bowed head was lifted, some one spoke to her in a calm tone tha t she had heard before. She looked up, startled and yet strangely quieted, and met the gaze of the speak­ er. I t was Mr. Sidney, the chaplain. “You are in trouble!'* said the quiet Voice, with its penetrating, sweetness. “ You arc in trouble, and you need help and comfort." Ashe stood there.,tall and of digni­ fied bearing, sh$ fciund courage to glance a t him a second time. He was a tuan who looked ■as if he could stand aiOM witb*"i* a Single prop: and al­ though he had a most benign face, H wore an expression of authority, While he was speaking Qlive had dried her last tears, and she answered him with a gentle frankness that touched him. “ I have had -sorrow, but it is over," she paid. "I came here because the place is so still and restful; and then { began to cry unawares." “You are looking tired." Ho was watching her narrowly, and read the signs of quiet patience in her beautiful young face. “La you live fa r oil?" "Oh, no! I live with my uncle who Is a bookseller close by. Last Sunday 1 1 came here for the first time. I t was a surprise to come suddenly on this greeu spot; I had been longing for a Sight of grass and trees, for I was born in the country,” The chaplain knew well enough that this shady nook had been a refuge to many who were “born in the country." He liad seen men and women come h e re to renew the youth o f'th e spirit under these trees. There are few; spots loft now in tho heart of London where old memories may live and grow. Then ho talked to Olivoof the ancient churchyard and its history; and of Other things; and she listened and wondered a little a t her own perfect unrestraint in liis presence. She would not have won­ dered, perhaps, hod she realized tha t he had been directing people’s lives for years, learning their griefs, and making himself fully acquainted with their hopes and fears and blunders. All sorts and conditions of men and women con­ fided their affairs to h im .H e could have told how Tom and Sue in the court had got into the habit of knocking each other about the- head; and why Lord and Lady Hightower in Mayfair never spoke a word nowadays, when they chanced to be left alone, together. He possessed the rare gift of unlocking hearts, and such a gift is only hcl&by one who is a born director and spiritual guide of men. Mr. Sidney had no mystical tenden­ cies. His life was too busy; he took too intense an interest in the lives around him to have time for mysticaL thoughts. Lie believed strongly in the helping power of human agency, and had all kinds of questions referred to himvby all kinds of persons. He did not write books; he preferred to live in people’s hearts rather than on the shelves of their libraries. Even his ser* < rnons were rarely to be found in print, and in short ho was not one of those |. men who desire to. leave a great name j fast m tits was starting lo r . tbs TVrol Tho girl was singularly clever awl beautiful, and actually fouw 1 her way Into the old lady’s affections. When they returned she was no longer maid, hu t companion. And then Claud mot her in the house in Curzon street, and straightway fe|l in love." “They must have attracted Mrs. Vil- liors' notice," said the chaplain. “She is keen-sighted, I fancy.” “No; she was quite blind. Jloreover her mind was steadily sot on marrying Claud to Adeline, and she thought of nothing else. It was a pity th a t her eyes were not opened sooner.” “But they were opened a t last?” “Yes; just when things hod gone so fa r th a t it was a sin to interfere. Claud was passionately in love; and upon my word I believe that the girl was as good as gold. Ho had tho banns pub- liulied in a church that was never at- .tended by anyone he knew, and every­ thing was arranged between the pair. They were to steal off early on. a Mon­ day to be married; hut on tho preceding Sunday the plot was discovered." “ Ilow?" asked the chaplain. “ I.can lmrdly tell. I t was the house- keeeper who had set a watch, I think. Anyhow, Mrs. Villiers hurst upon them in a storm of fury, aud the companion was sent out of the house tha t very day. She thought, of course, poor girl, that her lover would keep his woid at all costs, but she leaned upon a broken behind them. To do his work thoroughly while he lived here; to lift others out of the .-slough of despond and lead them with a firm hand up to those de­ lectable mountains where his own sou) rejoiced in puro air, this was his daily task. Before Olive left the old churchyard the chaplain hod learned her simple his­ tory, and was quietly devising plans for her future good. She wont hack to the Wakes with a brighter face than she had worn for many a day. “Uncle,” she said, “I have found a* new friend; or, rather, lie 1ms found me. I t is Mr. Sidney.” * Samuel looked a t her with a smile of. infinite content. “ I have been waiting," ho answered. “ I knew a fresh wind- would blow into you .life, but I did not know ■what quarter it would _Como from." ' , CIIAPTEIt XIV. SKAWAtm ATLSTOHK AT HOMS. “There is no reason why I should no t bring her to sec pictures," said tho chaplain. “You say you can count upon Miss Villiers?” “Most certainly," Seaward answered. “Adeline is a comrade trn e .and tried. Already she has seen Miss ’Winfield in the flower-shop, and does not wonder that I want to know more of her. Therq is not an atom of petty jealousy In Ade­ line; and—rare quality in a woman— sho is always willing that a man Bhall be happy in bia own way. Poor girll I wish I was quite sure’ about her hap­ piness." * Tho chaplain and the painter had dined together and were now talking quietly over a bright fire. The weather was clear and cold; heavy eurtainsr kept out all possible draughts; deep chairs invited rest; tho warm light fell on paneled walls, painted by Seaward's own hand. Hero were golden wheat- cars, mingled with scarlet poppies and ox-eyed daisies; there was a mossy bough, laden with blossom; a glimpse of shining water and dark rushes filled another panel; tho next showed a frag­ ment of snowy woodland. I t was a perfect room to spend a winter evening in. It glowed with rich colors,, and abounded in small arrangements for ease and comfort, “She will soon bo married, I suppose? Mrs. Villiers told mo that the time was almost fixed," said the chaplain. “Granny wants to fix everything,” cried Seaward, in an angry tone. “Nothing is definitely settled yet, Adeline has not made up her mind, and 1 begged her not, to be hurried, Some­ times it occurs to me that wo nrc all using the poor girl very badly. Sho is more and more surprised a t Claud’s curious languor. No one lias ever given her even the laintest hint Of tha t dis­ astrous affair of his." “Has ho not got over that affair?" th e 1 chaplain asked. “No; and Idon’t believe he ever will. He knows that he behaved like a scoun­ drel.” “He wanted to many Mrs. Villiers’ companion, Was not that it?" said Mr. Sidney. “Yes. My grandmother had eu* gag«d a young woman as maid, THEY WERE NOW rALKNO -itriETM?., reed. He did follow' her, -hut it was only to bewail his own'weakness and bog to be sot free." The chaplain’s contempt was too strong to be pat into words; and Sea­ ward went on: ’ “He got hia release, it seems, easily enough. The girl was as proud as an empress, too proud even to load him w ith reproaches; She let him go in si­ lence, and then vanished out of his life forever. He does not oven know whether she is living or dead.’" There was a pause, a Home leaped up brightly, shining on the chaplain’s thoughtful face, which looked sterner now than Aylstono had ever seen i f be­ fore. When Mr. Sydney -broke tho hush he spoke in a tone o f deep indig­ nation. “And you will let Misa Villiers marry, her cousin-without hearing a word of this story, Aylstono?” ’ “She came in one day quito gayly, and told me that sho was engaged to Claud,” SeawtiVd replied. “I wont to him, and urged him strongly to tell Adeline ot - ery thing. But he had given grand­ mother a solemn promise to say noth­ ing. And so tho engagement has gone dawdling on; the man always depressed and conscience-stricken, and the girl puzzled and dissatisficdl” “But it ought not to go on, You know that?" “Yes; I have been hoping against hope; trying to believe that a wrong thing would come right. At first I thought that Adeline, bright and at­ tractive ns she is, would help Claud to begin a new life and a new love, Bnt I have never been happy about the m at­ ter; and I see plainly that Claud cannot forget,” “You have all behaved cruelly to Miss Villiers,” said the chapla in uncompro­ misingly. “If this story is hushed up before marriage it is sure to come out afterwards. And if I judge Adeline Villiers rightly sho is a woman who would suffer acutely under the blow of such a disclosure. Besides this ill-used girl may reappear?" “I have thought of that," Seaward answered sadly. “And yet I fancied tha t she would not live long after Gland’s desertion. Hers was the kind of beauty that one always associates with early decay." “Then she was very.beautiful?" “Would you like to 6ee her portrait?" said Aylstone. “ I made a study of her head." Tlic chaplain assented, and Seaward led the way upstairs to the studio. Then lie turned up the lamps, and went to a corner where two or three unframed pictures were leaning against tho wall. “ I always meant to put her Into a group,” ho said. “ I liad an idea In my mind, but I never carried it out, and then she disappeared; and 'somehow 1 have never eared to look often a t this.” Ho turned the canvas to the light, and showed a pure delicate face, and a soft mass of golden hair, in which Was a spray of jessamine. Only the head was finished;- some filmy drapery, gathered loosely round the shoulders, was put in with a few careless touches. But it was a life-like countenance th a t looked back on the gazers with beautiful melancholy aye* and a faint smile, " I bare not flatteredher*in the least,* remarked Seaward, and then, without further comment, he carried the picture out of the light, and put it gently down in tho corner onoo more. Only this time the face was not turned towards the wall. They went downstairs and .parted somewhat gravely in the ball. “On Saturday afternoon," the chap­ lain said, “I will bring Miss Winfield.” He went out into tho London night, and Seward returned to the fireside and meditated, until the warmth and quietness drew him away into dream­ land. In sleep ho saw the fair face hovering near another, whose richer, darker beauty was always in his wak­ ing thoughts. And it seemed to him th a t the golden-haired Woman looked a t him with mute entreaty as if pray­ ing tha t tho brown-eyed girl might have a happier fate than her own. He woke up suddenly with two lines of an old song ringing in his ears, and und then ho remembered that the man who wrote that song was resting some­ where under tho green grass of the old Savoy churchyard. Ho went up to his room with a firm stop and a resolute heart, singing George Wither’s well- known words in an undertone: . "If sho lovo mo, this bollove, I ivoultl tllo oro sho should grlevo." Seaward Aylstono had gone regularly to the chapel on Sundays for years. He belonged to the crowd of deep thinkers and earnest brain-worlcers who gath­ ered round Mr. Sidney, and found rest and refreshment in, his teaching, There was a freshness and quietness in the chaplain’s sermons; Ids voice guided his hearers to tho green pastures and-still waters of life, and Seaward, Who vvas an eager toiler, spending himself on his art, felt the -good of this restful influ­ ence. One day ho sa.w Olive among the con­ gregation and followed her, as wo have, seen, to-her own door. Other Sundays came, and lie saw her again and again, and he longed to speak to her and know her. And then he opened his mind to tho chaplain. Mr. Sidney already -knew something of Samuel Wake, and had gone to the book-seller’s house and talked to Olive in her own home. It did not surprise him that Seaward liad fallen'- in love with this girl’s’fate, for tho face had a soul shining through it, and Seaward was not the man to linger over a lamp without a flame. Nor did it surprise him that the painter should frankly osls, for his help in tho matter. He was ac­ customed, as wc know, to give counsel to the perplexed, and aid to those who could get assistance from no other quarter.. Moreover, b e ' knew that a man's “ fancy," whether bred "In tho heart or tn tho bead" may ’develop into one of those deep loves which are tho blessing or the tho curse of life. Every love affair is a mystery, and those who bring two persons together do not know whether they striko the first note of a dirge or a To Deum. CHAPTER XV. "IT IS LUCY.” I t was a red-letter day with. Olive when Mr,-.Sidnoy took her to th e ’paint­ er’s studio. Sho had been to the exhibition of the Royal academy with Uncle Wake, and he had pointed out dll the works of great artists. She had stood spellboqnd be-, fore a picture of Seaward Aylstono’* and had tried afterwards to describe it to Michael But Michael never had patience enough to listen to descrip­ tions. He always grudged every mo­ ment th a t was not spent in* talking about himself. Two visitors were already in the studio when the# went in. Miss Vil­ liers was there, .charmingly dressed, and she came forward and held out her hand to Olivo. In tho background was a tall, weary young man, whoso face was like an ivory cameo, perfectly cut and colorless. And the girl remembered afterwards that his proud, unhappy look had chilled her for a moment. But she was a little agitated on her en­ trance, and answered the first words addressed to her with a bright blush, Which reminded Aylstone of tho day when he saw her under t)ic larches h t Kew. Her nervousness vanished when she turned to the pictures. Hero were poets, soldiers, statesmen, whose names were well known in tho history of our own times. Hero were women, fair and stately, whose beauty had won them a transitory fame; and children who smiled fresh and rosy from the canvas. And there were other pictures, full of mystic meaning; angels wntch- ingon the summits' of the everlasting hills; a man standing on the hank of a dark river and. looking across to the other side, where a woman walked in solemn light. While she gazed the painter talked to her, explaining this and that, well pleased when she gained confidence enough to ask questions. Mr. Sidney stood a little apart and chatted with Adeline, while Claud Villiers,. standing near Iris cousin, hardly spoke a t alL Seaward lmd led his Visitor to tho fax’ end of the studio, and Adeline, near the fire, was still talking to the chaplain, when a faint cry from Olive startled them all. [tO tltf OONTINUED.J Woman’s Way Mr. Wickwirc—-What are you diving intomy overcoat pockets lor? There is nothing in them you ought to see. Mrs, Wickwire—No? But I thought there possibly might be something vr other I oughtn't to sec.---Indianapolis i Journal w GENERAL INTEREST. —The "superfluous woman" has not wholly abandoned New England, bat the is dwindling, so to speak. The a»- • gtvgate population of the six states in­ creased in. the ten yean; I7.u per w u t, but the number of males increased 333 . 032, or 18.1 per cent,, while the female*, increased 835,184, or only 10.3 per eent. —Numerous instances are related in mythological tales of the people .if the sea having carried off human beings, conveying them to their pearl-lined grottoes in the depths. Mermen have, in this manner often obtained liumin girls for brides, while mermaids not infrequently seek to secure for l,ns-' bauds good-looking, youths from dry land. * —The custom of “drinking healths'* liad a most curious origin. In the days when the Danes lorried it in England th»y had a very common habit- of stab­ bing Englishmen in the throat.when drinking. To avoid this villainy a man when drinking would request some of the sitters^by to bo his pledge or siiretv while taking Ids d raugh t Hence the custom. Tradition says a very rich mine was discovered somewhere near Balt Lake twenty-five years ago by a Mormon and for some,reason Brigham Youngforbado the prospector’ to work the mine or make, its whereabouts known. Just be­ fore dying the man indicated tho direc­ tion in which . the mine lay, but hun­ dreds of miners have vainly sought the treasure. -’ . - —A singular ease is in the courts in Washington. A woman married/a man in -18S7 while she had a husband’ living. Afterward she obtained a divoj-oe from husband >No. 1, but there was no new ceremony of marriage with Mr. Me- Loughlin, husband No. 3. Now Mr. McLoughlin ■ is dead and his daughter \ opposes the claim of h e r ,stepmother to being his widow ori the ground th a t there was no legal marriage. The court lms decided in favor of the widow, and now the case Is appealed. • ■;—Chicago, lib, With- a total of a little over 3.000 miles of street laid down, uses the following paving- materials: - Woooden block, 479.24 miles; macadam, 359.31 mfi.esv- stone, .2£«4 -miles; block asphalt,- 8;59 miles;, sheet asphalt, 9.01- miles;, brick pavement, 0.07 mile,- and burned clay, 0.2.3 mile. The total-of paved streets- claimed by the city authorities is 772.39 miles, exclusive of ■ 3.89 miles of wood pavement on viaducts and. approaches. .Tho.-city has 3,340 miles of wooden sidewalks out of 2,873 miles. The wood is being slowly re­ placed with stone and concrete. —The Kansas dog ease mentioned iu- dispatches as rivaling the famous Jjqnek * county calf ease is really unworthy of such a comparison. Tlic Jones county calf litigation extended, if we remem­ ber rightly, over nearly a quarter of a . ' century and cost something like 130,000, not counting the value of the calf it­ self. The suit ovqr a $1.50 dog which has just been dismissed by the Kansas City circuit court rolled up a bill of costs of only $500. 'The comparison sug­ gested cannot therefore be-,accepted. The Jones bounty calf case is' unique, and no rivalry will be permitted. —A case of temporary survival of a wound which should have, apparently, caused instant death, is that-qf a boy who was picking up shavings in a, carpenter shop. He slipped and fell and his head struck against a revolving buzz saw. lie staggered to liis feet and . went to an appotheeary to have tho cut In his head dressed. lie said his head pained him terribly. This was not wondered a t whop it was found th a t the saw had cut through liis skull iu such a way as to divide the two lobes of the brain. The hoy lived for several days and retained consciousness to tho last. According to tho common acceptance of tilings, ho should have died on the spot a t the time he sustained this most re­ markable injury. —Tho story of tho first iron ship is told by Mr. Lindsay in his work on “History of Merchant Shipping and Ancient Commerce.” Ho writes; “A steam vessel was for the first time fit­ ted into a vessel of iron; she was named the Aaron Manby, and was constructed a t the Horscley company’s works for tho joint account of Mr. Manby and Cnpt. Napier—afterward Sir Charles Napier.” Mr. Grantham, iu his -work on ship­ building, describes an iron canal vessel built by a Mr, Wilkinson, of Bradley Forge, near Illlston, about the year 1787. and this is believed to be an early instinct of a really working commercial vessel built of iron; and again in 1815*Thomas Jevons launched a small iron boat on - the Mersey. She was built by Joshua Horton, near Birmingham* nud fitted tip at Liverpool, and i's credited, with being tlic first iron boat th a t floated on salt w a t e r . _______ Concerning Nicaragua. Nicaragua has 49,500 square miles and 850,000 people. The resources arc great, especially in fine hard wodtls, dry woods, rubber and other plants. Sugar, coffeo and indigo are largely cultivated. Maize and potatoes grow abundantly in the highlands. Nicaragua is especially well adopted for live stock, and on tho eastern shore of her great lake thous­ ands of cattle are raised. Gold has been discovered recently. The trade of Nicaragua with the United States exceeds that with any other country. Coffee, crude rubber, bananas, hides and skins are sent to the United States, and machinery, iron, steel, wheat,flour, provisions and manufactured goods ar» sent hack. Last year Nicaragua’s ex­ ports to tho United States were 81,823,* oss, and her imports from the United Stales were |l,t80,447.-^Chieago News, AwUSM \