The Cedarville Herald, Volume 13, Numbers 1-21

_ _ , 1 loir and bew ildering day o f her own T > h p l i P f l f l T V l I l A r f p r f l l f l |Wf®. So much was crowded into it, and ± l i e V c u a l V i m ? A l C I a I U . 1 ^ bo many th ing s seemed to bo loft W B. BLAIIi, Publisher. CEDARVILLB. OHia A GOLDEN RIDDLE. Tho husbandman one golden mom A white seed dropped among the corn, ■ t ' t ’ Beneath the summer's mystic spell It burst erelong the prisoning shell, And 'tw in the brown loam's rifted crust Its emerald leallels upward thrust. Through lengthening days of rain and shine Fast grew and thrived the generous vine, And 'neath tho changing sides held up For sun and <low Its golden cup, Till In u s veins these forces fine ■Had wrought a mystery divine, And given to tho world a boon f Fair as tho golden-hearted moon. The rtlddy globe against'tho mold Outvied the fabled crock of gold. t E jeh day a riper hue It gained, *, And, while the season waxed and waned,- Tall knights with gleaming lance and sword Guarded with ceaseless watch and ward Through midnight hush and noonday heat The golden,treasure at their feet. . And when the orops were garnered'In, And granary and barn and bln With wealth of goodlier gold were stored Than that which greedy misers hoard, When glad lips sang the harvest-homo ’Neath lowly roof and lordly dome, And kith Md kin, from.grcat to least, Had gathered tor tho harvest feast, Ah, richer than tho rarest wtne „ This yellow fruitage of tho vise, Transmuted by tho housewife’s skill To golden visits iu flaky frill. ' No fairer fruit tho fields nfford. No choicer viand decks the board, And grateful hearts their praises lift To Him who gives tho golden gift. —Mary I): Sleight, in HarperJs Bazar. flaw Sfjmm C51APTKK IV.--CONTIM’ED. The fresh gurgle. of the little Meon made music in h e r as she turned to­ w ards the village. 81io was happy,.in­ tensely happy iu the strong hope and confidence of girlhood; the prospect of th e journey and th e beginning of city life did n d dishearten her in the least. And y et she was conscious of a new and strange .affection, for everything, th a t belonged to the life th a t she must leave behind. She, felt herself clinging to the simplest and commonest things, looking lovingly a t the cushions of velvet moss and b righ t little ferns th a t grew on tho stones of the old bridge, watching the rush of the sw ift w a te r w ith dimmed eyes. The churchyard is lifted high above thh ham let, and a narrow p ath runs across it to the steep hill th a t towers, sentinel-like, above th e church. I t is a quiet place, free from all sound of ac­ tive and stirrin g humanity, and the fresh April lig h ts and delicate shadows fall tenderly on the gray stones and grass. The sun was ju s t going' down- when Olive stood by Lucy’s grave; it was a calm sunset, clear and golden; a soft wind scented w ith violets blew cold ami sw eet from th e west. Standing there, 'and looking down upon tho mound, she felt th a t she had never loved h e r friend b e tte r than she did a t this moment, and.yet she shed no tears. Death is no t always disunion; there is a parting which seems to leave ns w ith a deeper, more intim ate know l­ edge o f th t one who lias gone before. There ai o certain questions which out, Jan e w ent w ith her into tho g a r­ den, and gathered a basketful of tho best flowers, th a t they could find—rich velvety pansies, delicate hyacinths, jon ­ quils, tulips, violets, all mingled w ith plumes of fresh green ferns. And while they lingered over th e flowers, they talked again of Aaron, and looked forward hopefully to tho m eeting th a t should b ring th e long-desired explana­ tion. I t was to Aaron’s fa th e r—old Fen- lake, o f the “Boar’s Head’’—th a t Olive w as indebted fo r h e r drive to Peters- field. Ilis o stler w as to convey h e r a n d h e r box to th e railw ay station, and when t h e c a rt came up to the garden 'gate, Olivo was w aiting w ith a little, group around her. Mrs. Hooper’s farew ell w as th e last. i . “ This is som ething th a t Lucy le ft for you, m y dear,” she whispered, putting* a sealed envelope into h e r hand. “ I was charged no t to give it you till you were setting off on your journey; and I ’ve kept it all these months. Good-by, Olive; if you ever w ant a home, child, come back to me.” The c a rt moved off. Olive, seated on h e r box, looked back on the little group a t tho gate, and waved to them until a tu rn in th e road hid them from h e r sight. Her driver was old and deaf, and did not ta lk to anyone bu t his horse, and .she could' open th e scaled le tte r in peace. I t contained a five- pound note’and th re e words, w ritten in a feeble hand: “With-Lucy’s love." I t was the la st proof of her friend's thoughtful care. She kissed the w ritten words and pu t the. tre a su re in a safe place. The old horse jogged on; th e old driver cheered him in a,husky tone, and Olive sa t silently watching a few white elouds traveling slowly I across tho fresh blue sky. Hero and j there, in a co ttag eg a rd en , there was a j cherry tree in •full bloom, lifting up a j dome of silver blossom; bu t the spring j w as advancing w ith tardy footsteps, j and only a few flowers were scattered j over the expectant earth , ^ . They came a t la st to. tho railway station, and Olive watched for the- tra in j w ith a throbbing heart. The wait ing was i soon over, h tr's e a t was taken, and she j was speeding bn and on to her new life ! before she had quite realized th a t she ; had done with the old. t Some' m inutes w ent by before she j was composed enough 'to observe h e r ; follow travelers; bu t presently a baby, j j sittiug'on the lap of a rosy mother, j gave a crow of delight a t th e basket of ; flowers. Smiles and pleasant words I followed, b u t Olive was iu no mood for w ith a little sigh, cam e tw ek to h e r aft thia moment: ■ “ You have all th e luck, Olive. I don’t know why Michael Chase should liavo passed over us and chosen you, oa fa th e r says, You w on 't bo working long for yourself; M ichael w ill g e t on and m a rry you ou t of hand and se t you up like a lady. Borne women g e t th e crum b and others th e crust." Yes, it was strange indeed th a t she should be s o ' fortunate. Michael had never shown th e sligh te st preference fo r any o th e r g irl in Eastmeon, and when his choice was mode ho was per­ fectly constant, Olive’s step fa th e r had been heard to say openly th a t he 'wished Michael- Chase had tak en a fancy to Peggy or Jan e , and Mrs. Chnl- loclc had. been seen to smile w ith ill- suppressed triumph. And now ' Olive w as draw ing ne a re r and ne a re r to th is wonderful hero of hers, and she scarce­ ly dared to lift h e r eyes from th e flowers, so overpowering was tho sense of joy. But w hen th e tra in came slowly into th e station she looked up w ith a sudden feeling, of helplessness and fright. If ho was no t here—if by any accident he had been prevented from coming— , .what would be the fate of th e igno ran t country girl? IIow could she suqnnoa courage enough to g et into a cab and. be taken a ll alone th rough bew ildering stre e ts to h e r destination? Her fellow passengers got ou t of the carriage w ith all speed; th e rosy young woman w ith th e baby gave her a p a rtin g smile, and Olivo saw lier greeted by a sturdy a rtisan who took tho baby into h is own keeping. T h e n ' she, too, got out. la st of all, and stood disconsolately on th e platform , ready to b u rst into tears. “Olive,” said a-well-known voice. Ho was-close to her and y e t she had not* seen his approach! Trembling-, timid, happy beyond expression, she laid h e r hand on his arm, in mute wcl- j come, and lifted her sweet face to his. I .But lie gave her no answering glance; j w ith a hesitation th a t lusted perhaps h a lf a second, ho touched-her forehead i lightly w ith his lips; and Olive felt th a t she had made her .first m istake in show­ ing, too openly, her delight a t seeing ' him. . i “ 1 was a little late,” he said, ra th e r ’ tad out all th e advantages o f living in • wide sphere. And y e n will, have me to teach you everything." Olive drew a long breath . She would have given an y th in g fo r th e power of glancing up into his face w ith her old frank sm ile -th e sm ile th a t h e , had scared away. She could only murmur something which was' drowned in the ra ttle of th e cab, and he though t again how dull and commonplace she had grown. I t was well th a t tho drive was no t long, for it was becoming intolerable to them both. The c la tte rin g ' cab .stopped a t la st in th e middle of a crowded thoroughfare, and Michael told h e r tlid t th is was th e S trand and here was Uncle Wake’s shop.' Out of the shop door bedted on eager lad, head foremost; and received Olive’s box upon his w illing bock. She h e r­ self seemed to stum ble blindly a fte r sttlllv. ‘And now I must look after OLIVX LOOKKI) BACK OJf onoirp. TUB LITTLE conversation. Tho baby soon crowed itself to sleep, tho m other dozed too, the o th e r people were silent. The quiet girL, sitting iu the corner, lo st herself In a blissful dream of her London life. I t would all begin th is very are t evening. She h ad 'n o t se*n .Michael for answered, e r answ er themselves, in ; a whole year, and presently ho would silence and absence. Much of Lucy’s i m eet h e r w ith eager eyes and loving history, now unknown to her, w as y e t words, and tak e h e r under his protec- to be revealed, bu t tho influence of th e ir long companionship was still a living influence in Olive’s mind, and it was teaching h e r many things. A g re a t American w rite r has finely •aid th a t there are b u t two biographers who can tell the sto ry of a m an's or a woman's life. “One is the person him­ self o r herself, th e o th e r is the record­ ing angel. The nutobiographer cannot be tru sted to te ll tho whole tru th , al­ though' he m ay te ll nothing b u t tho truth,- and the recording angel never lets his hook go o u t of his own hands." But Lucy had w ritten h e r autobio­ graphy on the “ fleshly tables" of a w arm young h e a rt, and had bequeathed, as it wore, h e r own personality to the girl she had loved so well. And this liad been done w ithout saying many words abou t h e r life history. “Good-by, Lucy,” said Olivo softly. “ I am remembering you, dear, us you wished to be remembered. I am going to follow your counsels, and le t your experience help me in the new path th a t 1 m ust tread. There is no need to stand here and say all this; b u t it makes mo happier to say it. God bless you! I know lie does bless you for ever and ever; and so good-by." She slept th a t night, as she had done fo r many nights, iu Lucy’s little town. As y e t there were no flowers tw ining round the lattice, b u t the ivy was as thick as ever, and the swallows lmd come back to th e ir nests under theover- . tion. There would never bo any moro >partings; and Jane, poor Jane, she : m ust bo made happy too. Olivo felt th a t she and Michael were strong enough to m anage the love affairs of h a lf the kingdom, and bring them to a satisfactory ending. Surely, oh surely, th e tra in was slow? CHAPTER V. OLIVE'S WELCOME. The journey seemed tedious and long to Olive, sitting in tho co rner of th e third-class carriage w ith her basket of flowers in h e r lap. As the tra in drew n e a r London she was seized w ith in­ ward quaking and misgivings, and looked down upon tile flowers a s If they could give her comfort. But th e breath of th e hyacinths was sadly sweet, and rem inded her of th a t grave on which she had laid lier E a ste r w reath. Was it a gloomy omen th a t a though t of death should come to liet1, ju s t as sho was entering a new path in life? And then sho recalled her la s t w alk w ith Michael, on th a t April Sunday evening th a t seemed so long ago. His ea rn e st voice sounded in her e a rs once more; his eyes looked into hers w ith passionate tenderness; th e ’memory Was so sw eet th a t it tnude h e r h e a rt throb fa st and flushed h e r cheek. She was going to he w ith him again—going to find the present richer in happiness th an tho past; w hat could th ere he to fear? Olive was too young and too ig- you r box. Stand here, Olive, anu 1 w ill come b ack to y o u i n a m inute." j He went,, .and .she stood motionless as ! nst,at,ue, chilled to the very soul. A hopeless feeling of inferiority possessed her; a feeling th a t was new aud strange : and agonizing. He was so w ell dressed i and fine, anti she was such a poor im- 1 pahsive little rustic, th a t it seemed im- ! possible for her ever to bo lifted to th e | h eigh t th a t he had gamed. A woman who is crushed does not , generally look her best,-and “Olive’s de- ; pre.s.sion told upon h e r beauty. When Michael had claimed tho box ho came back to his sw eetheart, and it.s tru c k ' y im th a t the forlorn girl,standing droop- ! mg cm the platform , was not as pretty n.> the Olivo he had le ft a t Eastmeon a < y e a r ago. Her face looked, worn and fugged; her eyes large anil weary; and there was a treuiulousriess about her j lips which would have touched a tender i he a rt. But d man. who Is steadily dc- j voted to self-interest is seldom tender, i Michael had a gw*jit deal to think of, lie j was rising rapidly in tho world, and ho I did not w an t his betrothed to be a clog ; to h iu i. And there Was something in j h e r shabbiness and forlornness th a t ir- j rita ted him instead of aw akening a ! sp irit of sympathy and protection. If I you have to climb,, you cannot spend I time and stren g th in sympathising and protecting. He hoped th a t Olivo was no t going to be helpless, and ho was ashamed of th e countrified bonnet and scanty gown. “Come and g e t into a cab," ho said, briskly. "Tho Wakes will give you something to eat; I dare say you are hungry and tired; and y e t it wasn’t a long journey. You arc no t grow ing delicate, I hope, Olive?" Fancy a rising man hampered w ith a sickly wife! The very idea was intol­ erable, But Olive’s answ er reassured him; she h ad taken h e r first lesson in th e a rt of self-control, and she now spoke calmly: “ No, Michael. I have no t had a day’s Illness since you saw me last." "T h a t's righ t," he said, in a tone of relief, as he helped her to sc a t herself SHE WAS CLINGING TO UNCLE WAKE. him into a place th a t was a den of darkness; b u t from tho gloom came a man’s cheery voice, full and deep. “ So this is my niece. Olive,” it said. “You are very welcome, my dear. We w an t somebody young here to keep us from getting old!" “She’s come too late for th a t,” sighed- another voici , thin and melancholy. “ We are old already, Samuel, and you know it well enough.” “ I won’t adm it it for a moment,” the first speaker replied. “Nothing ages people more th an ta lk in g about their age." "Oh, Samuel! We ought w illingly to acknowledge the days of th e years of our. pilgrimage, even if we call them few and evil, as tho p atriarch Jacob did." "Jacob was alw ays fond of running himself down; b u t' ho feathered his nest welk and th a t’s a th ing th a t I never could do, Olive, my dear, your uncle can’t fe a st yon on th e fa t of the land, but ho can give you plenty Of love." Never did any promise seem sweeter to a famished he a rt. In an in stan t Olive forgot her shyness and mado stra ig h t for the large substantial figure which was now becoming visible. Her eyes were g e tting accustomed to the tw iligh t of, th e room behind the shop, and she had returned Uncle W ake’s h e a rty kiss and was clinging to liim, when some one liglited a lamp. Then a b righ t "clear ligh t illum ined th e little parlor,.and she saw th e gray head and kindly face of th e bookseller. He was an ample man. N aturcvwhen she fashioned him, had no t been stinted fo r material: lvc had a large body, and j his head and faco were large, too. Tho I thick gray h a ir looked lilio a inop of j short, curls, keen gray eyes tw inkled • good-humoredly, under shaggy cye- I brows, and tho wcll-cut mouth and ’ chin denoted firmness and good sense. ' Any physiognomist would have said , th a t it was th e face of a man who was ; sure to succeed In life; b u t ns regarded worldly gains, Samuel Wake was decid- . edly an unquestionable failure. lie ; had hod his chances and had been m aster of a shop and business of his own, and y e t here lie was a t sixty- ! eigh t in the position of a servant, ta k ­ ing caro of ano ther man’s shop and sel- ! ling another man’s goods. It was no wonder if Michael, In his energetic t struggle to g e t to the front, looked back , sometimes w ith qu ie t contempt on Sam­ uel Wake. There’s a look of my poor Ruth in th e cab and took his place by h e r ! a ij0ut you," ho said; and the deep voice SI 1softened as old memories came back. “ 1 know why they call you Olive, it was hanging thatch. Their cheerful tw it- i n o ra n tio know th a t the anguish of a tcring filled t* a morning air when sho ! reunion is sometimes worso th an tho awoke and realized th a t her la st day in j p ain of a parting, the village lied verily conic. | Slus remembered th a t Ja n e had. .Aftorwa-qn in looking hack, s h o ; gathered th a t bunch Of dark velvet .th o u g h t thitti ib is was th e most confus* I pansies, and tho g irl’s words, spoken A hundred times she had pictured this first drive w ith him through the un­ known streets of London. Always it had been strange and bewildering, y e t b rig h t w ith the sunshine of a wonder­ ful happiness. But now the; time had 1 really come, with nil the strangeness and all the bew ilderment; bu t tho hap­ piness—why was th a t wanting? Was th is carefully-dressed young man In­ deed Michael? And this tired girl sit­ tin g silently by his side, could she be the sunny confident Olivo of old times? Surely no. Poor Olivo had, un til now, seen her­ self under only ono aspect. Khe had no t renli/.ed th a t it is tho lo t of most people to behold a good many different selves before, they imvc done w ith this life, of changes, and she was startled, as tho young always are, a t the unfam il­ iar being she saw. If she Could have shaken off th is stupid dejected mood your grandmother's name. You never saw her, bu t I knew h e r well. I’m glad .they have given h e r name to you, my child, for hers was a spivit of j peace." Mrs- Wake w as a woman of fragile f and shadowy a sp e c t When she was i young sho m ust have been fair and j slender like an elfin maiden, w ith a kind of moonlight prettiness of h e r own; b u t now she was so whito and wan that, you almost expected h e r to vanish. She alw ays wore a Bhawl and a large shapeless cap, and th ere was novel* any touch.of decided color about h e r dress. Even, h e r voice was faint and thiu and seemed to come from a long way off; and altogether she was such a shade th a t th e re w as no t enough of h e r to be loved. You mierht like her and regard h e r r.» a so rt of harm less ghost, who wandered about tho house , . . , - * *, ,, t , f uiuihit n umic u fiu iii* lilts n t all m ight have been well, she thought. und waHod feebly ovcr tlic shortcom neitr.anl li* tl /wshHws.nl 1 . . .. ... v And presently it occurred to Michael to become affectionate, and he took h e r ’ hand, ased in a worn thread glove, into his own. ■ “ Wo ought to be very glad th a t wo are to g e th e r again," lie said, “ London ache, this mawning, doncher know con fu se; yon a t first, but you will soon ! Cuspid (a dentist, absent-m indedly) g e t used to th is noise and. bustle a n d ' Why don’t you h a t e it filled?—.Jury. logs of humanity. [ to b e continued . J \V b » It Kinpty? Goslin—Aw, I have a vewy bad head- * «w 3 aM . JRatker risbf —the offer that’s made b y the pro­ prietors of Dr. Sage’s Catarrh Rem- edy. Risky for them. For you, if you have Catarrh, it’s a certainty, You’re certain to bo cured of it, or to be paid $500. That’s what they offer, and in good faith—they cure you, or pay you, no matter how bad your case, or of how long standing. But — is it so much of a risk? They have a medicine that cures Catarrh, not for a time, but for all time. They’ve watched it for years, curing the most hopeless cases. They know that iii your case there’s every chance of success, almost no chance of failure. Wouldn’t any one take such a risk with such a medicine? The only question is —are willing to make the test, if makers are willing to take! risk ? . If so, the rest is easy. You your druggist. fifty cents and trial begins. . A u g u s t Flower” “ I am happy to state to you and to suffering humanity, that hiy wife has used your wonderful remedy, August Flower, for sick headache and palpitation of tlie heart, with satisfactoryresults-. Forseveral years she has been a great sufferer, has beeu under the treatment ofeminent physicians in this city and Boston, and found little relief. She was in­ duced to try August Flower, which gave iinmedaite relief. We cannot say to much for it.” L. C. Frost, Springfield, Mass.- @ RELIEVES oil .Stomach Distress. REMOVES Nansen, Sense of Fullncu, C onoestion , 1’ aim . REVIVES F ajuno ENF.RGY. RESTORES Normal Circulation, end W arms to Ton Tirs. on. H arter medicine co .. >t. loui *. Mo. EVERY FAMILY, School, Library, and OfTlco 7 S-H-O-U-L-D Have a Dictionary. Care should be taken to .-. ,. .*. .*. GET THE BEST. T H E IN T ER N A T IO N A L , Xew from Cover ft*Tortr«. tf’vltTTSSorOf U.OMTVAfttllDtiED,*’ 18 TMC ONETO BUY. IO tom *sjwntTevudng, i 1Q0editors employed* * $300AteiperdaL fSoMby AHlloofc«Uers* Sefii! to G.&C\>!rn»UAU&Co.’ ruMtftlier?, forfree specimenTdgtfl, WEBSTER'S INTERNATIONALj DICTIONARY BUNTING When you buy Flags you want the best. Government Standard is the best; the largest flag dealers in the U. S. are G. W. SIMMONS & CO., Oak Hall, Boston, Mass. Dealers in Military Uniforms, Write for a Flag Catalogue. FLAGS. Ely’s CreamBalm w i l l CATARRH A pii IVUnini lute eneb nostril, KLVmms.-iC Warren Sv.N.V. fair am tie , Timid flowers stop Id Woke, ohl blossomsl Birds, begin your w f Eacfl your sweetest I At the rising of the r Mosses, haste! a carl Softest green where f ’ Lilies white, before I Four your cups of tnl Crocus, let your torcl Whore His gracious r Ring, oh! harebells, | At tho advent of thol At His .coming, tremi Aspen trees on either Cowslips wake from I Mosses o’er their shil Wonderlng-eycd the I • Well they know His r Sing, oh 1 robins, gsiJ At the coming of th<| Bo! He comes. In 1 Birds are wild -with« In mud haste the bal Tumbles down the rl Look, Oh! look. IW Bending low the graj Maples wide your bsl At the glory of the I| He is here. So let I Something at His fe | That above earth!s I He will prize. Whal Hearts, made holy fl •Let us each before J | While all lands exulf 'With the praise of (I —Harriet.Mabel Spalding! A d lied staring- out of th a t th e re was any I in teresting to look a | a narrow alley and Mm m ' ' W m$L\ h -m t bare brlelt w alls th e way, w ith the blue sky which tvr ible, as the clothes pulley lines w ere by the wind. _lin t the breeze lj tirely died down Sunday sh irt litingi in tlie glare, of th till unconscious of shu tting out <\w»| square of sky win the d a rk little r< upon. Glory s bed was . und lumpy and soil not care to lie oven, and yet.th is there ever since sir und she was no: year-old Maggie charge of th e houi Went ou t for a day big, and one day Maggie had let the uhe had never tab* Maggie' was groi stitch ing busily uj riio did tailoring,