The Cedarville Herald, Volume 13, Numbers 1-21

The Cedarville Herald. W. H. BLAIR, Pubtlibar. CEDARVJl»L15, f s » OHItt H IGH L IF E A N D ’ LOW. Mr. Benjumin Brown, Of a far western town, W»* tbe son of a man who made millions in pork; A helpmate to gain, Of hhmaoulale name, This Crown prince of Pigdom came on to New York. Mias Cortlandt Van Gee, With a tall pedigree, And a pockotbook very alarmingly short, in Bocietj'’* s w im ................. . Met the western Beujlm, The poor chap was struck and commenced to pay court. / ■You think th a t you know, ' How my story will go: lie'll marry th e lady and all will he well. Oh no! You’re away off, For the Baron Grlmcoff ' Thought he scented a fortune and married the belle. Well, wo seldom attain .What we struggle to gain, For the baron got left and In poverty died. . Mr. Benjamin Brown, In his own one hoss town, Found a girl to his liking and made her his bride, —Robert Gilbert Welsh, In Jury. [Copyright. i 8 g». by A. N. KelloggNewspaperCo.] " C H A PT E R X iri.-CONTINCKP. Trembling nud obedient, the, young girl accompanied him. For a time, neither tspbke, then her pentrup emo­ tions found vent. “Oh, Mr. Bladon," she said, “how can I ever find words to thank you for the noble service you have done me this day?” Bladon looked wistfully at the sweet face. “Would thee mind an old man asking aquestion? 'Tain’t right, I know, to put a yourig girl to the, blush, but—" “Ask me what you will, and I will answer you without reserve.” There was no doubting the truth that shone from those vexvet eyes, “Which, then, of those two lads was thy sweetheart?" ,“So help me Heaven, neither!" * - “What!” “The one, I hated, scorned, loathed, the very presence of; the other I loved, but not with a.Iovo which you mean—V “Which one, irty pretty?" There was a depth of tenderness in the old man's voice. ■ “Why, poor George Arundel, of course," she said with all simplicity. “And now, lass, speak fearlessly, as between an old man an’ young maiden, be there anyone thee dost love in the way I mean?" Though th e ' crimson blush dyed her cheek, she never faltered. “Yes, Mr. Bladon, there Is one I love in the way you mean," “Thank God!" was all the old man said, but the light in his face showed the relief ho felt. Just as they reached Dolman's door, he held out his.horny hand to the girl and said with some emotion: “Tdidnalike thee, lass. 1 couldna bear the sight o’ thee; but all that lias passed now; an’you’ll try to forget the wrong I’ve done thee?" “I shall remember nothing but the debt of gratitude I owe you.” “Yon ace,” Bladon wenton In contrite apology, “ it was thy name that first set me against Dice.” “What, ’Wanda?’ ”■ “Aye, lass. There was a Wanda once as wrought a bitter wrong to my lad’s father—a cruel, hard woman, as wrecked a noble life." “You mean George Arundel's moth­ er?" “I do, lass. Ad strange to say, you are her very iraagt. Only there’s a soft­ ness about thy pretty face there never was on her’n.” 4 'JVas she—" "Nay, nay,” Bladon interrupted, hur­ riedly, “thee mustna ask questions. George’s mother be nothing to thee, lass, an’never 1 will be. Never tell the young master I even mentioned her name to thee. Forget 1ever let my old tongue wag as I’ve done to-day; for least said is soonest mended, an’’ 1 would’na regret the bit of confidence I’ve pnfc in tliee.” “And you never shall,” she said sweetly as they passed Into the house. But, from that time forth, William Bladon had always a kindly vni)* and a gracious word for the pretty teacher. CHAPTERXIV. <AR*«Y COMES ROME, Alplioiita Dsiniens’strength was laid low now. Popular opinion was stronger than the bonds he held over Squire RoblsOa, and that worthy, seeing no way to wriggle out of his dilemma re­ luctantly signed his Commitment to the State lunatic asylum, while even James Dolman kept discretely in the back-ground and offered no remon­ strance. It was not long before Mrs, Evesham wa*established in the Dolmanhoushold, a tendernurse to the sick man, who con­ trary to expectations, gave rapid signs of amendment, And herewith, Mr. Dolman’s line of seemed to have utterly turned his back on the Interests of his quondam patron, loading him with abuse un.d even refus­ ing to recognize his insanity as an ex­ cuse for his misconduct Then, too, he crawled In obsequious humility before the blind man’s friends, especially the stout old servitor, who regarded him much as a mastiff might have looked upon a wandering eur. The “gyruls" grumbled at the additional work in the household, but when Murtha ventured an objection, his answer was terse and eloquent: “You’re more’n twenty-one years of age,” he snarled, “an’ can earn yer own livin’ef yer want to; but while yer bide in my house you’ll du mybiddifi’, an’ my orders is that Mrs. Evesham shell du e» her durn please, an’ likewise Mr. Bladon, whom the Lord love an’ prosper.” Thus a week passed. Each day the physician had aniore hopeful- report of his patient. It was beyond all doubt that George Arundel would weather the storm, nud the silver lining seemed at lust coming to the cloud. Cheered with these glad • tidings, Wanda’s spirits revived; but there was another reason why the rose should come back-to her cheek again and the elasticity to her footstep. “Wanda, dear,” Mrs. Evesham said to her one morning, us she was preparing for school. “Have you forgotten that Harry is eomiug to-day?" Forgotten,! Had she for , one single moment siuco the first shock of George Arundel's calamity had been nsswigcd thought of anything else? * “And I was thinking,” the elder lady continued, “that he might walk up to the sclioolhouse and fetch you home.” “It, would be very nice,” was all she could say. “Why, child.” Mrs. Evesham de­ clared, “yOii don’t appear to be. very en­ thusiastic about it! It's a longtime since you saw Harry, and l should h^ve | thought you would have been delighted I at the suggestion.” t Then the foolish little thing must needs burst out cry ing and vow with un­ necessary ardor that she was dying to , see the dear,loti again, whereupon Mrs. Evesham’s eyes were opened and there was a grave, anxious look in them as' she kissed the girl’s sweet face and bade her hurry through'with the after­ noon’s exercises, Poor little, trembling tiling! How miserably she played the sehoolma'am during the long hours which intervened between, her and happiness. I am ufraiil if Squire Robison could have seen the way she allowed the children to “carry on" he woiild have been disa­ bused of the. idea that Havana enjoyed the smartest teacher in the county. Once in that very schoolroom she had with nervous expectancy. awaited the coming of George Arundel, and now her being was thrilled with Anticipations of a very different character. Hite had sent the restless children away an hour before the time for clos­ ing school. She had waited and pant­ ed, and flushed, und paled, and—at last lie came. .At last they stood face to face, both her hands in Ids. the hot blood mant­ ling her cheeks and the telltale, down­ cast eyes scarce during to raise their lids. “Harry!" “Wanda!" Yet not one word of the burning love each bore for the other. Hurry Eve­ sham too proud to claim the girl's affec­ tion till liis prospects were more as­ sured—she, trembling lest she should betray her fondness, for she felt that It | was almost criminal to even love the son of her benefactress in secret. Thus, ! these too, after a long parting met once more, neither knowing what the other suffered, and each for the other resolved for the sacrifice. They strolled down the sandy lane; arm in arm-sandy, I say, for though the snow lay like a white sheet on all l THEY STROLLED DOWN THE HAN’fiY I,AM’ ARM IX ARM. the rest of the surface of the country, there was always a bare spot near the school house; and, for that very reason the children hurried away to more favored localities, and the road was de­ serted. 1 do not know that the weather was particularly charming that afternoon— in fact I lielicYo a disagreeable east wind was blowing—but to this infatu­ ated young couple it -Seemed as if they were drinking into their lungs the balmy breath of the ItesperideS. “This is the last stroll we shall have together fdr many a day, Wanda—I am going abroad.” “Abroad!” Wanda says, with a fool­ ish trembling, “Yes, and for your sake.” “It Is strange, is it not? But none the less true. You sec Mr, Hardcastle and I ■have been •on more familiar terms than men in our relative positions usually are, and in the course of our talks 1 have told him your history,’ “Oh, Harry." “Yes, dear, and he—like the big- hearted, glorious fellow he is—has set his mind on unraveling the mystery which surrounds your birth.” "Mr, Hardcastle litis done this?” “Oh, you must hot be surprised. I think he saw how interested I was about everything that concerned you, and—” “Go, on, Harry.” “And, well, perhaps partly for my sake, he has determined to ferret out everything; and,with this view, is send­ ing me to England to play.detective.” “How good, how kind,”. Tears were in her voice. . ' ■ t “Is he not? So, my dear, you see we must not waste the 'moments. 1 have really come down here to gather' all possible details of your early life. Try hard, Wanda, and think of anything that might be useful td me.” “I know what you mean—you want me to remember scenes and circum­ stances prior to my arrival in New York.” “Exactly.’’ “And that I cannot do, for oh, bow- often have 1 racked my brain to conjure up the past. You see,/I was such a lit­ tle thing.” “.Still," Harry, urged, “you were old enough to have impressions, and I have read in books that the incidents of'child­ hood, though for years forgotten, will suddenly flash on the memory-if some associating circumstance presents it­ self.” . “Ah. that is strange, Ilarry, and in­ duces me to tell you of an occurrence which happened the'other day.” “Say on, and reiu.em.bcr that in a case like this nothing is too insignificant.” “Well, then, poorMr. Arundel was at his worst,'and that executive servant of liis, old Bladon. was standing at th,e top of the stairs watching the doctor de­ scend. for lie had just left the sick man’s chamber, and he shook his fist at the retreating figure of the medical man and muttered: ‘Notvt bat book learning and precious little o’ that, 1 should say. Oh, for twenty-four hours of Nurse Marty and her herbs!’' Nurse Marty! The words sounded so familiar that I knew they struck n.chord in my memory, and 1 sat in my chamber and thought. Suddenly it seemed to me ns though 1 saw a vision of a woman’s face—n sweet, sad face, which smiled on ine-^the face of an elderly woman, Harry,V’ho yet did not look old, for all her snow-white hair and furrowed forehead. But the most extraordinary thing about Her ap­ pearance was a patch of black silk she wore over her left eye. I t was very ab­ surd of tne to conjure up such an appar­ ition bute-” “No, no, I a jn convinced ’It was a reminiscence,” Harry'interposed. “But had you no other day-dreams?” “ Y'cs, my imagination "pictured an old stone house covered with ivy and a great porch in front of it, reaching al­ most to its roof. What was so odd about it. was that there was q flight of steps, which led to the porcli, whose floor was on a levet with tha t of the second story of the house.” * “Strange, indeed;.but they built many siicii houses in England in Queen Klizalteth’s days," In England? Ah, Ilarry, then you do attach importance to my vision?” “Of course I do. Now try if you cannot think of something more to tell me.” • . “No, I have told you all. Ilarry,” W'anda said, witli a dreamy wonder in her eyes. How swiftly the hours passed! It seemed impossible.to her, as she stood that night in the moonlight with both her hands in Harry’s wishing him good- by. She had him for just that minute all to herself, for Mrs. Evesham had bade her boy adieu in ber own chamber and had retired to her place beside George Arundel’s couch and of course the Dolmans ’were all in bed.» Truef old Bladon might be prowling about/ but there were no signs of his immedi­ ate presence. Good-by! Words a t all times* so bad and bitter; but to-night how much they mean to her—the death-knell of her day’s happiness. He stoops and looks down on the face so beautiful with the moonlight playing on it. Sorely he is tempted to speak but stem duty interposes. What right has he to ask so radiant a being to bind her life to his? But who could resist the tender pleading of the blue eyes which look into liis one monxmt and then are downcast. “Wanda!" How strange his voice sounds to her; yet in his passion-laden tone there is still the sweet euphony he always gives her name. “Good-by, Ilarry!" With quivering lips she speaks and can scarce repress the sobs which almost choke her. With a low cry lie draws her to him and holds her in ids embrace. “Wanda, I love you!" A!1 trembling she hears the word and buries her face on liis shoulder. “Speak, Wnfida! Only once—say you love we.” Slowly, reluctantly, she '■’Rises her face: it is pale no longer but crimson With maiden hnslifuiness. “Yes, I love you, Harry,” she mur­ murs! almost inatulibly, With ft faint, long-drawn sigh. “I never believed such happiness could bo mine,” lie vows with eestacy. “Then, do so now, dear," she whis­ pers, as with closed eyes she kisses his face. . An hour! Is it an hour, or a minute, or a year?—this dream too sweet for words to picture. Then the mother must he told. The gentle, loving mother, who has borne .so much for them both. Pshaw,Wanda, you need not tremble so, you need not shri nk with a great fear of the supposed wrong you have done. That generous heart has long been beating with the hope that the day might come when she could truly eall you daughter. Ho Harry Evesham starts on his way exultant, while poor blind George Arun­ del lies on his bed of pain with no bright hopes' before him; verily, “to him that hath shall be given, and from him that hath not shall be taken away even that he hath.” Thou Wanda shyly and with great ef­ fort tells the. glorious news to William Bladon, who oddly enough is now in­ clined to be cross with her because she has not preferred his boy as the idol of her affections. Ho it happened that one day, when George’Arundel had gained so much strength that he was permitted MRS. EVESHAM HA!> RETIRED TO IIER PLACE RESIDE OKOIU.K AHL’XDKL's COECU. to sit up awhile, the old servitor re­ solved to tell the story of Wanda’s love to him. It cut him to the heart to' wound the young man’s feelings, but lie knew the task must not bo shirked. ' “Now,'Master'George,” lie began, in an agony of apprehension, 'you mustn't take on, but I’ve a bit o’ news for thee, lad, as wunnot perchance lio welcome.” '“You mean Miss Arlington’s engage­ ment to young Evesham?" came the question, so calmly and deliberately ut­ tered that Bladon gazed in stupefied wonder. » “Why, yes,” lie said, “that’s what I meant; but iiow came thee to hear of it?" “Her mother told me yesterday. Oh, dear old friend, don’t look so woebe­ gone. .One would think that you were the deserted lover to see your long face, It is a thing for us all to rejoice at, that the sweet girl has won the love of such a sterling fellow ns Harry Evesham." “But I. thought you loved the lass thysoh?" “ Loved her; of course I did, nnd sliall love her ns long as 1 have sense to ap­ preciate the sweetness of her character." “An* yet you give her up so quietly. Why, when I was a lad—” “ You were a terrible fellow among the lasses, I don’t doubt, Bladon; but I am afraid ymr cannot quite understand ray feelings for Miss Arlington—I hard­ ly can myself, You see I was not so far wrong when I told yon shewas to ho nothing more than a sister to me." *!An’ you're not fretting over the loss of the lass?” “No," 'said Arundel calmly, “for I have not lost her yet. I do not think Harry Evesham will refuse to let her still lxi my loving friend and sister.” “Like as not,” Bladon confessed, bnt the reflection did not give him unal­ loyed pleasure, i t was bad enough for the young master to be smitten with the charms of a pretty girl, but to carry his devotion to her fireside, when she was a married woman, was a proposal be­ yond the old man's philosophy, Weeks passed by, and George Arun­ del was pronounced sufficiently recov­ ered to return tohislodgingB in Glas­ tonbury. Of course Dolman was mu­ nificently recompensed for all the trou­ ble he and his family had been put to, and candidly confessed that he did not mind liow often he turned his house into a hospital, under similar circum­ stances. Things had settled down into their old groove. The sunshine of early spring was already loosening the ice- barriers of the big river, and the chil­ dren were looking forward to the emancipation of a long holiday, when an event occurred that was of so start- linga nature that it completelychanged the aspect of affairs, as far as Wanda Arlington was concerned. 'This was none other than the pay­ ment of the sum of ten thousand dollars to her order in the First national bank of Glastonbury. There was no Clmv to the payee. The bank officials in New York who. had transmitted this draft declared that it was sent in the regular way of business at the request oi a per­ fect stranger, I to b e c o n t isc k d ,] Spteii of th e «i)«ir Three miles nn hour isabout the aver­ age of the gulf stream, though at cer­ tain places it attains a Speed of fifty- four miles per hour; In the Yucat&n channel, for an instance, where it is ninety miles wide and one thousand fathoms deep, the current is hot over the fourth of a mile an hour. lu the Straits of Bernini the current is r,o rapid aa to give the surface of the water the appearaiiit of being a sheet of fir*. M IL IT A R Y D ISAFFECT ION . Recent Outbreaks Among the DluatiiSet English Soldiery. The banishment of an entire English regiment to hard duty in Canada as a punishment for insubordination is still fresh in the public mind, followed as i t , was by another mutiny much more se­ rious, ’the mutineers being sent upon.- tliat occasion to Indian .service. Tbcyt . latest, report from Aldershot has cre^ ated a sensation in England mid a pro­ found sympathy for the soldiers throughout the kingdom. The report implicates a number of the soldiers of the crack fegiments pf that place in an attempt upon the life of a corporal, whose inhuman severity to the. men in his command could no longer be borne. In th.e' last five years from every branch.of the English army, both in England and in the- foreign service, a. dangerous discontent, suppressed only . by the most severe measures,, has been apparent, and the strongest feeling against entering the service is every­ where manifested, There was,a time when the English . army was the finest in the world, when the morale and disciplineN^cre perfect, and the soldier himself was proud of the service. The decline in the popu­ larity of the .army has been going on .for a long time. Commissions in the army are bought for scapegraces of all kinds, but scapegraces,, as a rule. , do not take kindly to'discipline, although they are invariably the severest marti­ nets. The monotonous life of the bar- .. racks, the never-ending laborious drill's, tlio lack of actual employment befit­ ting a soldier, wear upon tlie rank and file, and the regulations and conditions of the service make many abuses possi­ ble. The disaffection of the English sol­ diery is marked when compared to the enthusiasm exhibited for tbe army in France .where the army is mainly of re­ serve men, drawn from civil life, a.per­ fectly trained olunteer force, and the ; . discipline of the German army, the reg­ iments of which bearthemost protract­ ed drills without .a murmur. Politicians and statesmen aro begin­ ning to regard the situation in the army : of England as serious, but are at a loss to know bow exactly to proceed in its reorganization. In many years there has been no period when the anxiety that the army should regain its prestige was so'great as it is now. England's foreign relations arebeset with dan­ gers, and a t any time diplomacy may fail and- force be the means of main­ taining her position. That spirit of patriotism which ani­ mates the armies of France, Russia and Germany, is not so intense in the Eng­ lish army. The soldlcrs-havo known the hardships of campaigns under the burning suns and amid the drifting sands of. Egypt, and in the malarious low-lands of' India. The. statesmen would sacrifice every soldier in the ' army ti>retain India, and many brave men have already lain down their lives, ja useless sacrifice in Egypt,‘blit the masses of the English people are bound by ties of blood and interest to only two of .tho foreign possessions: to Can- i ads, because it lias before it a prospect uf ' of political liberty; to Australia, whose IB manifest destiny is independence, and they care no more for India and Egypt, where, nevertheless, they, must abpport armies who loathe the duties they must there perform than, they do China and the heart of Africa.—Chicago Graphic. Made well -—the weak, nervous o r ailing'woman who takes D r, Pierce’s Favorite Prescription, I t ’s a mcdicino th a t’s guaranteed to help her. I t ’s an in­ vigorating, restorative tonic, sooth* ing cordial and bracing nervine— and a certain ,cure for all the func­ tional derangements, painful disor­ ders o r chronio weaknesses th a t affect women. 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