The Cedarville Herald, Volume 13, Numbers 1-21

i S 5 . m m * Q flE editor sa t Inlila olil arm ojuitr (Half his work undone, he was well aware). While the flickering ltubtin the dingyroom Miuie the usual oowspapcr ofllco “gloom." Before him news from the north and south, ** A long account of a foreign drouth, A lot of changes tu local hds.. The report of a fight by some drunken cads; Auil odds and ends, and smoko and talk— A reporter drawing cartoons in chalk On the dirty.wall, tj'hlle others laughed And one wretch whistled and all ot. them chaffed. But the editor leaned far'bnek" in Jits chair; He ran his hands through his irongray hijir And stole ten mlnutesfrom work to write. A valentine to hid wife thk t night,. i ...y .•>,i tustftj,*#.1 -\f>' ■■. He thought tit meter, he thought of rhyme, Twas a rneebetween weary brains and time. He tried to tirrjte as he used to, Whdn,. ' • His heart was as young as his untrlod pen. He started a Sonnet and gave It up, A rondeau failed for ftThsme tos{>cui>.J And the old (dock ticked.his time away B,, . For the editor's mtnd,«ci((Wgo astray;. ->* ■* •i . : • r.'.t-A tf . ):.v. y. < He thought of the diiyk when they were'young, And all but love to thewinds was filing; He thought of the way.she used to wear Ht-v waj^vard treSSC^-Of'gojtfeit half. , He thought of thej-toay she used to blush, 1 He thought ot the way he used to gush, <’ Anti a sroilo and a tear went creeping down The face thafso long had warn a frown. And this is what the editor wrote,- ^ No poem—merely a little note? 1 • ,, , - t Simple and manly,-but-tender, teio—, ‘ Three 11 ttle.wprd*. They were: “Hove you.” —Tom iiail.ltl i^uhsey’a Weekly. ’*'Taiu't any use to bother ine about it, ’cause I’m goiug to send it, and I don’t care,” JJourl was so .young—scareoly eight years old—and so much accustomed to being petted, tha t such opposition as this ljurt her feelings deeply, But it did not shake her resolution; Shehad written the valentine that She bad meant from the beginning to write, She deft Georgia and Lorn iaiana now, and ran, pattering her, bare feet over the grass, to the fence that separated the yard from the road* way; ■ , ‘•She’s gone to the fields where pa in,” Georgia said, as she watched Zouri disappear down the roadway. ‘•’Yes, and wiiat’a more,’'’ Louisiana answered, ‘’she’ll make pa say she can up and do anything she wants to.” : They were right in guessing ■ that Zouri had gone to find her father; She knety that he was somewhere in the fields, looking about- his farm and planning the spring sowing. "Every few moments her voice rang out in- a loud call: ♦‘Poppy, where are you?’* ■■ At last, from a distance, she heard the answer: ••Halloo! Zonri, is that you? I ’m down ip, the potato field!" When she reached him he placed her on the highest rail of the fence while he stood beside her and listened; There had always-been a strong bond of,. Sympathy between' him and this little girl; perhaps because she was a “chip of the old block.” ‘‘What’s the m atte r with poppy’s little gal?” he asked. ‘•It’s Lous’any and -Georgia;' they’ve been bothering me. ” ‘ Court’s cheeks were flushed and -her eyes b righ t and it seemed -as if,,her hair took on a more defiant curl than usual. ■ ■ ■ .’ ' Seth looked a t her for a moment; Then he took her sunbonnet from her hapd and placed it on her head. “What have they been bothering you about, honey?” Zouri quietly took her sunbonnet off asshe .answered: “Because I said I was going to do something yon didn’t wSjdfeme to. But I just have to do it, poppy l I t would make me feel so bad If ^d idn ’t,". << Sath’a’face looked grave. I t was a phssjle to him sometimes to -know how to deal with Zouri. , ‘“Well,'honey,” lie said, soberly, “did? {youvaome’way out here to get me to le t you do a th ing after I had told you you couldn't?” . •-v 4“|fo, poppy,” she said, “ I ju st come .tpflPiyouC^p mpke Georgia and Lous’* d a jz lti me alone and stop being mean top ih i” ... 'i . ‘ “Zauri, is it anything bad yon want U f e w . - ♦ ■ " • • ' ‘ — h lW l ^ n o y ^ . ^ ^ ,fc*» youTell poppy sometime?” * frit ain’t fin e a n ]to mo like W O e o rjjiS .’” " * ' ' :5flq.^ras 8i|enL,. ahe,^lJppc&W<fln;t!tc Tettp^ahd took 'his hand, a n d they i ^ S i p f i t ^ l h b r <St«i^thc;fidLdstoWaSrd had coi very bright.*) southerUtMriftti and p lca^fW .^y ,—. . ^ . come o-jt s^ r& M l a grass' write thqu-ynkpltneft; Thetagirl* ware Seth G r a f l l r t » ^ W 4 l ^ « t & ‘'i*' they - The tv^^jpiaihilyry aterot ha ra«»8iM>t and .Tosiah, iwerts v farmers, am ftheir largo farms joined.' Thb brothets WCro twins. They were marked on the same (lay. There had, !be.oh';g ifort of agreembtft between'them th a t whenever a baby girl came to the household of either, she should be given the name of a state in the union. So it came abou t that, Whan some years had gone by, there were six little states, three in each family. The boys did not count „in this union, for it would not do to call a bby Texas or Mississippi.; Then caraferth* Ussierwhen Seth tod. Josiah ceased fir be twins in spirit, foe they had a \toa5ato qaarret about fha- plantingof a^diVlstOn stake, and ths ownership of thfe** orfonr feet of l**d. Seth, the mors Self-willed of tlurtwo, had planted the stake where he pleated, and Joe had submitted; but from that day the brothers had not spoken to each other, and tbb six littl* states, who loved each other, had bests separated, Keth’s Zouri—whose real u?*nc was Missouri—had jfeut declared that she wouldsend a valentine to Uncle Jos. “I met him down a t the branuh the other day,” she said, “and he talked to me real nice, I felt tony for him, be* cause ha said tUat*Tean*ssea Coald ac*er go without crutches aay store.” Loua’any and Georgia said they were fltdtelhire that Zouri would bewhipped If she did not keep away from Uncle Joe’s folks aad stop seeding valentines there, fiat Zouri was the youngest of the three, end not old enough to be ▼etycautious; bfeeidee, she had a little early red heed end her father’s own willful spirit- . Bhe went oq , painfully writing the words of her valentine: ' PwrUaker Joart 1 « v you I wish you wad r5 ^ i i ,on .|:bttrSUdbohttet; yen’ll MWKjp'pld*” , i bhoyed. ’ ‘‘fioppyi” she" tot’d,* wbafd id you and Uncle Joe get angry .bOtrfc? .Did he treat you raean when ybti’bri^ited to do anything?” y g a ^ l ’a tSY t^ .-^ to ‘hitdl'bSeit- id his miniWoro than once th a t day, because .^t^fHiWilikimntvertory of the pthAlfng stake, and Seth had stood for ««ton tbe u tb sr ntdeof the oklmljr M nyM SM fo. P a tw a’t le te n y to d y se t H ums jw . ha sorry Tsaay has ts gose- eretotwe. fnsa yew lovta# wfloattM.” “ ’Tain*t right, Zouri,** fiCes'toy said. puuiah yen loelt.** ‘*fiMid«s,wh0ll teles It oter to fin* ski Jos?” naked Geeejiha , ”1 Will,” arid Zemri, as rite shook backh»y mid- atari* gmd piriiednpher toftiswitot from the gum “Land sakesi If that ain 't Seth’s lit­ tle Zouri,” he muttered, ns he started toward her* “No, don’t come yet,” she called again, “I a in 't ftody,” He stopped, and stood waiting. “What on the earth's brought Zouri over here? I ’ll bet both don’t know it! The child's just the apple of Seth's eye. Well, if she van get around him, there’s something in her;’’ “Uncle Joe. are you listening?” “Yes, honey—talk on.” . “Well, I’ve put it in that old hollow tree down here, When I’m gone, you can go and get i t Good-hy, Uuclo Joe!” . i “Good-hy, Zouri Can’t you wait a bit?” He watched her sunny little figure, the clean, fresh dress, the dangling sunbonnet, and the soft, dancing curls as she flew along toward home again. •‘Well, I reckon I ’ll have to see what it is.” ho said. He walked slowly to the edge of the field, vaulted over the rail-fence, and crossed the road to where the old hoi* low tree stood. He stooped and put his hand within, and then drew it out with a shamc*faced air. “Just one of Zauri's jokes, I reckon. She’ll think I'm an old fool to come down here a t all." Then he leaned against the tree with one hand resting on its trunk. “ Just four years ago yesterday since Seth and I stopped speaking,, and this is the. first time one of his family’s been on my land, to my knowing. Not another one of ’em would dare to come but Zouri.” He shuffled around again to the hol­ low. “I reckon I’ll try once more.” be said, This time he dropped upon his knees, put arm far into the opening and. felt carefully around, He found it, all crumpled and not very clean. Then he slowly opened and read it— the lit- know you were going to bring me that valentine?” “No; ■ I wouldn’t tell him what it was, He knew I was going to do something he didn't want mo to; but Georgia and Lous’any knew, and they told me I ’d ha whlnped for i t But I won’t!” They were drawlngmear home now. The lighted cundlea and lumps shone with a cheerful light in the darkness, “I’ll leave you a t the big gate, Zouri. You won't be afraid then, I reckon ” Zouri did n^t answer, and Joe felt n pain a t his heart ns the thought came that, after all, the child did not cure whether liew en t further or not. * > “Here he comes!" site cried, sudden; ly.*' “He’s hunting for me, I reckon. NoW he’ll make you come in and sit on the other side of the chiinly!” Yes. there was Seth coming along the road to m'eet them, Joe pressed Zouri’s hand tightly in his and was si< lept. , Seth called out iu the darkness; “Zouri, is th a t you?” “Yes, poppy; I and Uncle Joe. He brought me home.” Seth stopped an instant and then came nearer. - “Is it you, Joe?" “Yes; Setli; mo an’ Zouri.” Joe felt the need of companionship just then. “ Shake hands with Uncle Joe, pop­ py! lie's cornin’ in to sit in that chair across the chiinly from,you. Tasked him to!” • ■% Seth held out his hand and said: “Come on," ’Joe, th a t chair’s been empty these- four years I reckon you'd better come in and. use it to­ night Zouri’s got better sense than her. ■father.” ■>. '• “■ ■ “I told him ’bout. Tenny,'Uncle Joe, an’ he’s sorry, too," said Zouri. Seth laid one hand on Joe’s shoulder, while with the- otherbe led little Zouri .toward the house. Both arm-chairs •balfto hour by the side of the stako, recalling die circumstances connected with i t J “NO,'Zouri; Joe wasn’t exactly mean to me!' I reckon lio Was better,’n I was, when it comes to t h a t” “Thcp I ainf going to be mad with him,” she answered, and the sunbon­ net came off again, “Anyhow, Ten­ nessee’s got to go on crutches all her life, an* I ’m sorry.” For once Zouri was almost crying. “1s that a fact, Zouri? Little Tenny on cratches—all her life, too! What if it was yon. Zouri?” There was no answer, and they walked home the rest of |h e way in silence, - S t Valentine’s day was clear and beautiful. There was peace between Seth's little states. Soon after dinner, without a word to anyone, Zonri pu t on a clean dress, and, hanging her Bunbonnet on her arm, Started away on her mission. Seth had been watching her alt day, Ha taw her sta rt from home, bu t he ■aid nothing. . 8b* reached the point where the rood crotoed the head of, the old mill pond. She knew tha t Uttcld Joe’s Was not far beyond. Bnt Zouri had never been very brave about crossing the pond: there was only * narrow plank-way across, and i t sfiemed so near the water, and so many fishes and noisy frogs and other queer creatures lived right under this plank, tod the water looked to qniet and dark. When Zonri reached this point in her journey she stopped a moment, a little frightened* and was almost ready to turd back and go htune, Bnt she did not do th is She began to sing, and as she sang she ran lightly across the plank. Zonri was on Uncle Joe’s farm now, and hoped to find him In tome field not far away. As she went along the road* way* looking to the right tod left, she saw* on a little rise Of land, this figure of a mam Ha waa staading between half aad the Sinking sun, and a warm* soft light shone Over hi* f a ta “Uncle Josl OK Uhoie Jos!” she tailed. BOTH VHAIRfJ WERE Tfrr.F.D THAT F.VENINO. cost Zoiiri so much tie scrawl that had to write. I t Was like a message from Seth, and all the old-time Jove for his brother came Into Joe’s heart as lie read Zouri’ b valentine. . “I’m sorry Tenny has to go on crutch­ es,” Here was the great sorrow of Joe's lilje, for Tenny was to him wliat Zouri was to Setb, and all her young strength had gone, and left her a pa­ tient, suffering little cripple. So he stood there and wept over Zouri's tender words; “God bless her for sending it,” he murmured. As ho stood there ha heard her call­ ing from fa r down the road: “Uncle Joe! OK Uncle Joe!” He turned and saw Zouri running to­ ward him, somewhat pale and fright­ ened. He stooped and held open his arms, and she rushed into them. Then he kissed her silently. “I was Afraid to' cross the plank at the pond,” she said, “Never mind, Zonri,” he said, “I’ll take you over the pond.” He held her gently In his arms and carried her as easily as if she had been a baby, “Did yon ge t it* Uncle Joe?” she whispered. “Yes, honey, i t was the best little letter th a t ever 1 had, Uow’dyou hap­ pen to send It, Zouri?” “ ’Cause I wanted to, after you told me about Tenny; and 1 ain’t angry withyou any more, Uncle Joe! 1 told poppy so, too.” “I'm very glad* Zonri, We’ll be good friends now, won’t we, honey?” The day was drawing to a beautiful close. All along by the side of the water and in the woods and fields the sound* o f night *onld be beard as the shadows of twilight grew longer mad the last rosy light Of the day melted Into darkness, Zonri slipped from Uneia Joe’s arm* to the ground after they had safely passed the pond* bu t she held his hand and he tow that he must take her home, o r a t least within sight of the house, “Zonri*” h« asked* “did your father were filled that evening, and a little curiy-hcndcii girl sat first on the knees th a t occupied one chair, and then on those which occupied the other, until nt last she fell asleep in Uncle Joe’s arms, and was carried to bed with his Idas and blessing resting on her fore­ head. * “There ain’t many like her; Setli,” he said. “Yon ought to be mighty thankful yon've got Zouri. I'd lie down and die this minute if I could see my Tenny strong and hearty like her.” ThCn there came a pause. “Did you suspect what she wasnp to* Seth?” “ I wasn't rightly certain hut it hv»t something to do with you or Tcr.ay. But Zouri’s queer, and when shvsets out t o do a thing there’s no stopping her, so I generally keen still and wait till she’s done it before I say much.” “Did you ever know anybody els* like that, Seth?” Then there w*s a laugh—a laugh brought hack from the past years of love and brotherly kindness, and i t was full of promise for the years to come. In a few days there was a reunion a t Seth’s home of the six little states. They were all there,Missouri heading the list. Next to her was little Ten­ nessee* with her crutches; then Lous’sny, Georgia, Florida <,ud Vi» ginik. 1 do not know if other states have been added to this union since, but I do know that Zouri’s valentine brought back a peace that has been abiding. — Helen F. Kendrick, in Youth’s Com­ panion. ■._______ A Valentine, Dear heart, femeheart, sweetheart ml*& Be any foto heart’s valentine! The*, the’ stormy winds he blowing-- Then, tho' Utter tears be flowing Over dead and buried blisses SH (Tombs ot vows and graves of kieSM) (■ (O f theta thou w ilt be unknowing— Only Sweetnese will be thine! —Washington CrittH. to v » 'i Mhwlon. In every line on flykig filet toverunsuato And, kneeiingavtha't. Bis prayw it: J«** myewaet: Ufa PERSONAL. AND IMPERSONAL. *—A widow of thirty-flvp, witli grown children, was recently wedded by a lad of thirteen, in Glasscock county, Ga. —Dr. Charcot, the famous hypnotist^ has a beautiful tumnur home just out­ side at Paris on tJnP borders of the Bois do Boulogne, The villa is said to be fairly wreathed in flowers and shrubbery; and its eminent, occupant betrays a love not only for this form of life but also for animals —President Buchanan’s old home a t Lancaster, Pa , “Wheatland," lias beon sold to a cemetery company for SIS,000, and will be. used as a graveyard. The old brick mansion will be converted into a chapel, and the spring so often spoken of iu Buchanan’s day will make a fountain pond. —How the.Rothschilds are housed at Forrieres, near Paris, may be judged by ‘ their five establishments, worth £4,000,000, needing the services of 150 people. The stables contain 100horsea When Louis Napoleon visited Ferrieres the Rothschilds gave a grand break­ fast in his honor, the cost of which was 8800,000, —Richard Knowles, the sailor who lashed Farragut to the rigging of the Hartford a t the battle of mobile Bay, says that after he had taken a. turn or two with the ratline the old admiral gruffly asked him what he was about, and upon being told by Knowles that the captain had directed him to make the admiral, fast the latter said: “O, all right,” and helped to fasten the lines about himself. —The continental papers have lately been'circulatlng an amusingstory about a rich French nobleman who always pretended to he a great friend of the legitimist claimant to the' French throne, When it was proposed to raise a fund of 20,000,000 francs to aid the claimant an agent called on the wealthy royalist, who promptly replied: “My blood is-always a t the service of his majesty.” "Yes,” rejoined the agent* “but we are not going to start a sausage factory." . ^ —This amusing Btory is being related Of Commodore Vedder: While a young man, teaching school, he had occasion to punish a mischievous girl, and, as usual in that day and locality, was about to resort to the ferrule. To the offending maid he said: - “Miss——, give me your hand.” She dropped her head and blnshod. Again. he said, sternly: “Miss ----- , I say give me your hand.” Slowly lifting’her eyes, she remarked: “Mr, Vedder, this is embarrassing for me. You should not make such pro­ posals ia public. However, you must . •ask my papa-first” —A certain .doctor, who, was noted for a keen oye to business," was driving along the street of a country town, when his horso took fright and ran away- ‘He was thrown violently out of his.trap and rendered senseless. Pres-' cntly he recovered a little from his un­ consciousness, and, noticing tho,crowd which bad gathered, abouthlm, Asked: “What’s tho matter, gentlemen?, Any­ body hurt? I nm Dr. B— . Can I be , of any sorvico?" "A LITTLE NONSENSE.** —Ho—“Would yon’ bo offended if’I should kiss you?” She—“Your asking is what offends me.”—N^Y, Ledger. —A Nightmare.—“I nevah cat mince- pie,” said Chappie. “Why not?" asked ' Hicks. “I t makes me dweam ot my ancestahs. and between as, they were all twodesmen.”—Life’s Calendar, —Eternally Dosing.— So fond of medielno nro some That, told death all their ills would throttle, They'd step right up, produoe tho cash, And ask tho druggist for a bottle. -N , Y. Herald. —A pessimist walking with his wife, and meeting a large ‘school of girls, exclaimed suddenly: “ Heavens and earth—the poor men! What A crowd of future mothers*in-law!”—Once a Week. —They were talking about trees. “My favorite," she said, “is the oak. I t is so noble, so magnificent in its strength. But what is your favorite^’* “Yew,” he replied.—Providence Tele­ graph. —Father—“Well; Tommy, how do you think yon will like this little fel­ low for a brother?” Tommy (inspect* ' ing the new infant somewhat doubt* fully)—“Have we got to keep him, papa* or is he only a sample?”—Chicago Tribune, —Boy (in a drug store)—“Mister, I want to get—a—um—I Wtat a pint of —a—I fo rge t” Druggist’s Clerk—“I say* Dick, here’s a boy forgot What he came for.” Boy—“That’* i t ” Drag- gist's Clerk—“What’s it?” B oy - “Campbor.” —“Lady (iu employment office)—1“As there i* only my husband and myself In the family I think yoti onght to be willing to come for less than you ask. There ava only two persons to cook for.” Domestic—“But, mom* when I’m wld yon there 'nd be three,” —A Centenarian.—Mr, Farmer (lay­ ing down his psper)—“Wall, well* old man Oatsy ia dead at last tod the pa* per says he was a oeutenarian. 1 didn’t know tha t” Mrs. Farmer (surprised— “No, nor 1. 1 alius thought he was a Methodist”—Detroit Free Press. —Our Servants.—Mrs. Vsrnon do Conti—“Bridget* who rang justnow?" Biddy O’Galway—“Mrs. Lotvlofty." Mrs. Varnon de Conrt-“Wby didn't ah*dome In?” BiddyO’Galway—“Sure, ma'am* she axed me If yon were out thte time. 1 told her *no,’ an* I shtU the door. It wasn't In she waa askin’ for yon.”—8mith,Gray&0o.'a MonOily#