Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

10 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.