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THE SOUTHERN WORLD, MARCH 15, 1882,
Conducted by Mm. Fanny Farley.
“OCR HOHMTEAO.”
BY PIIOCBR CARY.
Our old brown homestead reared It* walla
From tbe wayside dust aloof,
Where tbe apple bough could almoat cast
Ita fruit upon tbe roof;
And tliecberry treeao near It grew,
That when awake I’ve lain
In the loneeome nlghta, I’ve beard the llmbe
Ah they creaked against the pane,
And tlioee orchard trees-Ob. tboae orcbaril treea-
I've ecen iny little brother* rocked
In their top* by the Hummer breeze.
The aweetbrlor under tho window >111,
Which tbe early bird* make glad,
And the damaak roue by tbe garden fence.
Were all the liowera we bad.
I’ve looked at many a flower alnce then—
Exotica rich and rare—
That to other eyee were lovelier.
But not to me ao fair.
For tboae roaea bright, oh! tlioae rosea bright.
I’ve twined thlm In my slater 1 * locks
That are laid In tbe dust from sight.
We had a well, a deep old well,
Where the spring was never dry,
And the cool drops down from the mossy stones
Were falling constantly.
And there never was water half so sweet
As the draught which tilled my cup.
Drawn up to the curb by tbe rude old sweep,
That my father’s hand set up;
And that deep old well, oh! that deep old well,
I remember now tbe splashing sound
Of the bucket as It fell.
Our horn extend bad an ample benrtl],
Where at night we loved to meet;
Where iny mother’s voice was always kind,
And her smile was always sweet;
And there I’ve sat on my father's kneo
And watched his thoughtful brow ,
With my childish hand In hla ruven halr-
Tbat hair Is silver now!
But that broad hearth’s light, oh! that broad
hearth’s light.
And my father’s look and my mother’s smile
They are In my heurt to-night.
Written specially for the Southern World.]
“I WII.I. REPAY.”
BY IIEI.KN IIARt’OURT.
He stood on the deck of a splendid ocean
steamer, looking back on the great city of
San Francisco, fading away in the distance;
he was a young man, not more than thirty-
five, at the most, but over his clear-cut feat
ures there reigned an expression better befit
ting one of twice that age, one of utter sad
ness and weariness of life.
Tlie mammoth steamer glided steadily on
ward over the sparkling waters, clear und
beautiful in the sunlight, their boisterous
play tossing the great muss of iron and wood
up and down, us though it had been but a
straw.
"Pretty rough, Mr. Wallace,’’ said a
cheery voice behind our friend, “at least the
passengers think so; I believe there is only
one besides yourself, a lady,—who has not
retired in disgust, to pay Father Neptune
tribute. Ah! and here she comes to enjoy
this splendid breeze; you two brave ones
should know each other, especially as you
have such u long voyage to make in com
pany—Mrs. Chester, allow me to present to
you our new minister to Japan. Mr. Robert
Wallace, I must ask you to excuse me now,
you can entertain each other."
And then the busy Captain hurried away,
never stopping to notice the strange conduct
of the two whom he had thus brought to
gether. •
The lady, scarcely more than a girl in
years, turned very pale, and sank heavily
into a chair, like one stricken by a sudden
blow, her dark eyes fixed Intently upon that
other white, slim face looking down upon
her.
There was a silence lasting several mo
ments, during which each seemed loth to
be the first to speak; at length Robert Wal
lace advanced impulsively until he stood be
fore the lady just introduced to him as Mrs.
Chester.
“Clarice!” he said, huskily, "He called
you, Mrs. Chester! How is that? Canlt be
your faithless heart, after discarding the one
man you had sworn to wait patiently for,
and marrying his richer rival, has so quick
ly recovered from the shock of your hus
band’s death, as to take yet another in his
place already ?"
He spoke wildly; rapidly, and she gazed at
him in silence with dilating eyes—the look
of pain and terror—on her sweet face chang
ing as he went on, intoone of bewilderment.
“Answer me 1” he exclaimed roughly, “I
had hoped to never more look bn your face,
but now, that we have met, I would like to
know the process by which you arrived at
the point of jilting the man, who had left
you, so hopefully, to win the fortune you
were to share, and marrying the man you
had always professed to despise! Martin
Boyd was rich! that is your answer is it
not?"
He paused, his hands clinched, bis chest
heaving.
“I do not understand you, Rob—Mr. Wal
lace,” she faltered; “You speak as if I had
married Mr. Boyd."
“ Dare you deny it ? ’’ he exclaimed bitter
ly-
" I certainly do deny it, as it is not true.”
He laughed, a wild bitter laugh, ashedrew
from his wallet,a bit of newspapercrumpled
and worn, and placed it in her hands.
“There is the printed lie to your denial,"
he cried, “I have kept it by me these two
years, that I have been roving over the world
to teach me to hate you; I have studied it
over and over, till I know every word—
Mabbikd.—In Washington, January 10th,
by the Rev. John Watson, Clarice Lorton,
to Martin Boyd.
There is the proof that just six months
after I left you under a promise to your fath
er—not to write to you for one year—you de
liberately broke your solem pledge to me,
and married another! ”
Clarice Chester had been looking from him
to the bit of paper she held In her hand, a
strange, wild look of pain, and fear deepen
ing on her features; now she spoke slowly
and with effort.
“Tliis is a marriage notice of a cousin of
mine of the same name; she went to Wash
ington after you left and married Martin
Boyd. I never broke faitli with you, how
dare you say it! when, before the stipulated
year was out, you, yourself married a ludy
in Sacramento! Hush!” as ho raised his
hand impulsively “I know it is true, for I
saw your letter to, to John Chester, in which
you boasted of your conquest of an heiress,
and generously requested him to break the
news to me gently, os I had really seemed to
care quite a good deal for you! It was well
done, nobly done, honorably done, Robert
Wallace, thus to act towards one who— who
trusted you, and then to convey the news of
your baseness through another person. ”
No longcrpale and trembling, Clarice Ches
ter stood before him, her beautiful fnee all
aglow with the fervor of the emotions her
words had called up.
A moment Robert Wallace stood, gazing
fixedly into the pain stricken eyes, that had
once made the sunshine of his life, then lie
spoke slowly and solemnly, with a tremble
and quiver in his voice, which told but too
clearly of the struggle within for calmness
and self-possession.
“Clarice, as you value you soul answer me
truthfully; was this that you have just told
me, the reason you broke you plighted word
to me? But for— for my marriage” he smiled
bitterly us he emphasized these two lust
words, “would you have waited for me to
come bock to you?”
Some magic in his earnest tone and words
seemed to compel her tounswer in spite of
her proud will.
“A Norton's word is never broken! Yes,
I would have waited ten times one year hud
you asked it. Even as it was I refused John
Chester's pleadings for more than a year,
and yielded at last, only three months ago,
because my dear mother (a widow now) need
ed the luxuries that I could give her in no
other way." Her voice ceased in a long
drawn, quivering sob.
Robert Wallace laid his hand on her should
er, in a tender, pitying way, his own face
white and drawn, with the fierce anguish he
strove to stifle, for her dear sake.
"Clarice," he said solemnly, "the letter
that was shown you as mine was a forgery.
Married, I! why poor child, my heart broke
when John Chester sent me that little scrap
of printed paper, telling me,—the scoundrel
—that in it, I would find evidence of tbe
manner in which you had kept faith with
me. He advised me to cast you from my
heart, or, if I could not all at once, to seek
forgetfulness in travel. I was stricken down
with brain fever for weeks, but the doctors
pulled me through it, and scant thanks I
gave them. And then I went far away, to
Africa, to India, then back to Washington,
for I heard that Martin Boyd was dead, his
widow had gone west to live; then I was ap
pointed minister to Japan, and I accepted,
hoping to work hard enough to forget. And
now, now— Oh 1 Clarice, my darling, that
bad man has deceived us both, and has gain
ed his point and made wreck of our lives, I
could curse him."
“Hush, Robert," Bhe interrupted, in a
voice full of sorrow, “remember, that no
matter how he became such, John Chester is
my husband. Until now I have found it
easy t<J respect him, but that is all over;
Robert, for my sake,— yes, for my sake
do not punish him for his sin ; it is too late
to remedy its consequences now; let us leave
it to God, and it will come outall right some
day. You and I have done no wrong to each
other, we have no longer the bitterness of
that belief, let us not do wrong now! we
must not talk together again, we must not!
And Robert, do not speak one word to John
Chester, I will tell him his falsehood is laid
bare, and then we will leave him in the
hands of Providence. ‘Vengeance is mine,
1 will repay, ’ saith the Lord.”
With a stifled sob she turned hastily a-
way, then moved by an irresistible impulse,
came back and laid her hand on her com
panion’s lowed head, as he sat in speechless
agony.
“Be brave, dear; do your life’s work well
and cheerfully, that I may hear of and be
proud of you in my heart. ”
And then, as he pressed one long, heart
broken kiss upon the little hand, she pass
ed from his sight.
A week later two men sat in the Captain’s
cabin, each, in the pauses of conversation,
casting furtive glances at a little instrument
that hung upon the wall.
"You don’t like the looks of that barome
ter, I see, Mr. Wallace," said the captain,
“neither do I, to tell the truth. I don’tlike
cyclones with a ship full of passengers to
think of, and the gluss is certainly hinting
strongly at one. I must hurry off now and
see all taut for a tussel with the storm-
king.”
Two hours later the stout steamer began to
feel the long, rolling swell, that presaged the
approach of a yet rougher sea, and in five
hours after the first warning lmd been given
by the faithful barometer, she was pitching
and tossing in the midst of such n fierce war
fare of the elements, as even the vetern cap
tain had seldom encountered.
All night, and all day the steamer bat
tled bravely with the raging sea, und yet the
storm showed no signs of abating, but rath
er grew more and more violent, and when
the second night drew on, the heavy seas be
gun to break over the laboring vessel.
Lest the steamer should indeed plunge to
her death, in the midstof the towering waves
that rose before her, the engines were slow
ed, and each moment the captain feared, lest
unliuppily the report should reach him, that
the waves had entered the engine-room, and
extinguished the fires, for that he knew
would mean that the end lmd come.
And standing at the captain’s side, stern,
silent, with a face drawn and haggard, not
with fear for himself, but for one dearer to
him thnn his own life, one who sat in the
great saloon, calmly waiting for the end of
it all, was Robert Walisce; standing there,
in the flying spray and whistling wind, that
he might be the first to know when the end
hud actually come, so that he might try to
save her, or faring at that to die at her dear
side.
For heknew that the man who had so base
ly parted their two lives, would afford her
no help, even if help were possible; he had
seen him cowering in abject fear, wringing
his hands and moaning, while the sought in
vain to impart to his cowardly heart some of
tbe brave spirit that beat in hers.
Mr. Wallace lmd deemed that in their pre
sent extremity, her embargo of his silence
might be broken, and from time to time he
crept across the wave swept deck, had gone
below to give her such words of comfort as
he might, but he quickly saw that they were
not needed, nor believed, and so he made his
perilous way back again to the captain’s
side.
Ink black gloom surrounded the vessel on
every side, save when the flashing lightning
for an instant illumined the scene and reveal
ed its horrors.
Stout hearts quailed as the wind roared
through the cordage with a savage, relentless
howl, and the ship shook and ground as if
in an agony of fear.
Gallant hearts shrunk small and became
almost still in the presence of the Creator,
(feeling themselves to be in tbe hollow of His
hand) to be crushed or delivered, as might
seem best unto Him.
Still, all through the night the noble ship
buffeted bravely with the mighty sea, and so
the hours of darkness passed away, and the
light of morning came stealing over the
foaming waters like a ray of life and hope.
And that ray crept into the hearts of all on
board the sorely tried steamer, deepening
and widening as the first fear that the “wish
was parent to the thought” died away in the
certainty that the winds and the waves were
actually abating at last, and that the worst
was over.
The worst of the storm? ah, yes, but not
.the worst of their peril; for just os the
warmth of hopes restored, had crept into all
their hearts, there came to the captain from
below, a man with a face white and ghastly,
bringing the appalling tidings that the water
was pouring in rapidly through the strained
seams, and that the pumps would not work.
One instant the gallant sailor stood in silent
horror; then he gave his orders quietly and
calmly, and while some of the crew made
what haste they could to collect provisions,
and store them in the boats, others summon
ed the panicstricken passengerson the deck.
It wasa forlorn hope, that of finding safe
ty in thore frail little shells of wood, albeit
they were in reality good and stout, as all
boats might well be, only they seemed so
small to brave that tossing sea; but it was
tlie only visible hope, so, as the order was
given to enter the boats before lowering
them, then was a mad, frantic rush, each one
determined to be among the first to quit the
sinking ship.
It was in vain that officers and men ex
postulated ; the first boat was over-loaded,
and even as she was being cautiously lower
ed to the surface of the angry sea, several
more of the fear-maddened passengers leap
ed into her, and among them was John Ches
ter, craven as well as base, giving no thought
to the wife against whom he had sinned.
Slowly, slowly the boat crept down towards
the foaming waters, a few moments of breath
less suspense, and then as a huge wave came
rolling along and lifted her on its crest,
quick, deft fingers cast loose the lines, and
so the little cruft swept safely away from the
ill-fated ship.
Safely, did we say ? Alas and alas!
Even as tlie second boat was about to be
lowered, there rose a fearful cry from out the
sea, as a great wave leaped up, and poising
for an instant on the little boat, came down
heavily upon it, and then, as if satisfied with
its work, the green, glittering monster roll
ed on, leaving in its track a few broken
planks and a few struggling figures; that was
all, and in a few moments more these too,
had vanished in the foaming caldron.
An awful stillness fell upon those left on
tho deck, and then the captain spoke, slowly
and solemnly.
“My friends, it is w'th you to choose
whether you will die as those other poor
creatures have done, or wait quietly here,
and go down witli the ship. 1 think we can
best prepare to ineetourGod oy staying here;
it will give us more time, for the ship is set
tling more slowly now; still, it shall be as
you decide.”
And so it came about that, except for
those in that one boat, every one remained
on the ]>oor wreck, waiting in agony for .tlie
final moment to come when she should
plunge down into the depths of the ocean,
witli her human freight.
An hour passed on, another and another,
and still tlie vessel floated, and still the
waves ran too high for the boats to live in
their midst.
Another hour, and yet another, and then
the brave captain rose up, his checks flush
ing, his eyes sparkling, his voice faltering.
“My friends I" he cried, “go down on your
knees and thank God for his mercy; He has
granted our prayers for deliverance, and with
liis further help we shall be saved. The ship
has not settled an inch more these last two
hours; she is water logged, and will float un
til the sea is smooth enough for the boats.
Thank God, I say!”
“Thank God, thank God indeed! ” whis
pered Robert Wallace, as hekneltin reverent
gratitude, his strong right arm holding his
beloved one close to his side.
And afterward, when the poor, wrecked
steamer had been left alone upon the waters,
and the well-provisioned boats, sailing over
a sunny sea for many days, were at last pick
ed up by a homeward bound vessel, Robert
Wallace felt that God was indeed a God of
love and of justice, whose ways are not as
our ways.
A year later, those two who had seemed to
be put irrevocably asunder, stood together
as husband and wife, and a strange look of
awe crept over the bride’s sweet face, as her
thoughts went back to that, other one who
lay under the waves.
‘“Vengeance is mine, I will repay’saith
the Lord."
Horace Mann said; “If Temperance pre
vail, education can prevail; if Temperance
fail, education must fail." So that in'the
opinion of that apostle of schools, education
depends on Temperance,»therthan Temper
ance on education. The same thought was
uttered by Superintendent Philbrick when
he said: "The rum-shops are the antagonists
of the public schools,” and by Lord Brough
am, when he told the Brisish House of Peers
that it was no use to attempt to improve the
morals of the people by giving ,them educa
tion if the beer shops continued to sow the
seeds of immorality broadcast over the land.