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TIIE
BUTLER
HERALD.
IMihllHhed liv
W. N. BEN MS.
(a WEEKLY DEMOCRATIC NEWSPAPER,DEVOTED TO INDUSTRY AND CIVILIZATION, j OXE dollar a r$Ali.
’ f In Advsres
VOLUME 3.
BUTLER, GEORGIA. TUESDAY, itUI.Y ‘2D.
1879, • WHOLE NUMBER 141.
THE BUTLER HERALD.
W. N. UENN8.
Editor and Pullulier.
Subscription Trick 81.00. Psft ANNua.
TUESDAY JULY 29th 1879.
Only A farmer’s Wife t
Two women eat together at sun
eet in the porch door of a while
cottage that stood under its “an
cestral tree” and among its fields
of wheat and corn, like a poet’s
vision of a quiet resting place for
some weary, suffering human soul
And one of these two women had
eyes to see, ears to hear, and a
heart to feel and appreciate it all.
She was a tall and stately lady,
apparently some thirty years of
age—not exactly handsome, but
with a grace of air and manner
peculiarly her own. The careful
toilet, the nameless air of eleganci
and luxury, the pale cheek, the
soft white hands, betrayed the city
dume. While the weary glance
in her large, dark blue eyes, which
even the quiet of that emmet hour
could not drive away, showed thill
time had not dealt gently with her
and her heart’s idol,but had thrown
them, scattered and ruined, at her
feat.
V Her companion whts some five
years her junior, ann many times
prettier—a little rdund-laced, ap
pie-cheeked woman, with dark
hlqe eyes and (lark brown hair
and a ronuded figure that was eet
off lo the host Hdvautago by the
afternoon dress of timed muslin
that she wore.
At piesent t.l * pretty face was
almost spoiled by a querulous, dis
contented expression. She was
contrasting her own hand, plump
and small, hut certainly rather
brown, with the slender white fin
gers of her city friend, all glitter
ing with rings. “Just look at the
twul” she exclaimed. ‘‘Thatcomos
of making butter and cheese, and
sweeping, and dusting, and wash
ing dishes, and making beds all
the time. That man told the truth
that Baid that woman’s work was
never done. I know mine never
is, Oh, dear, dearl To think
that you, Margaret, should have
married a city merchant, aDd be.
as rich as a princess in a fairy tale;
and here 1 am planted for life,
plain Mrs. Hiram Parke, and noth
ing in the world to compare with
you. I am sick of being only a
farmer's wife.
Margaret Von Howth looked
down at her grnwbliDg little friend
with a sad smile.
“Jenny, it seems to me, as we
sit here in this quiet place and look
out over all these pleasant fields
that are your owl—it seems to me
that you are almost wicked to talk
like that.”
“I dare say, you would never
like it, Margaret. Yon would
never wish to change places with
me.”
“Perhaps not. Would you not
like to change with me?”
“Yes.’ 1
“And he Mrs Von Howth, in
stead of Mrs. Hiram Parke?"
Jenny hesitated. She dearly
loved her haudsome husband.
“Well, 1 don't mean that 1 want
to give up H'ram. I only mean
that I wish he was a city merchant,
instead of a farmer, oad as rich as
vonr husband is; that is all.”
‘And that is a great deal, themselves and their duty.”
Jenny,if your wish could be grant-! She spoke absently, and lfer eyes
ed, do you kuow what your life
would.be?" said Mrs. Von Howth,
coldly.
“What yours is I suppose.
What, any lady’s is in your posi
tion.”
“But what is that life. Do you
know?”
“How should I?”
• It is a weary one, Jenny, with
more genuine hard work in it than
all your making of butter and
cheese.”
“Oh, Margaret!”
“And, oh, Jennyt believe me,
my dear, there are no people on
earth who work harder than the
fashionables who only have their
own amusements to provide for.
A long life of mere amusements is
a dog’s lite, Jenny, at the best.”
“I should like to be oonviuoed
of it by actual experience,” said
Jenn, doubtingly.
“So 1 said and thought once. I
have been so convinoed. And it is
ail vanity and vexation of spirit,
my dear.”
“But how?” persisted Jenny.
“How? In ten thousand wavs.
If you live in the fashionable world,
you must do as the fashionable
would does. Yon must rise and
dress, and shop, and lunch, and
dress again and drive, and dress
again and appear at certain balls,
parties, concerts, exactly as your
friends do, or be voted bizarre,
and out of the world altogether.
You, ray poor Jenny, who are by
no means fond of dr»ss, what would
you do at the fn-h.. s'.i'e watering
places in the hottest (lays of Au
gust, with livu ohaugvs of toilet,
between morning aud night, and
a French lady’s timid to tyraunize
over you all the time iutothe bar-
pin ”
“Horrors!” ejaculated Jenny.
“Balls that you must go to in
spite of fatigue, parties that you
must go to in spite of the heat,
culls that you must make on peo
ple that you detest! Oh, Jenny, I
should far rather be at home with
the butter and cheese, if I were
you
Jenny was silent. Here was the
side of the bright picture which
she had. never seen or dreamed of
before.
“You love your husband, Jenny?”
said tier friend after a time.
Jenny opened her eyes wide,
“Love him! Why, isn't he my
husbaud?” was her reply.
Mrs. Von Howth laughed.
"Some women in society might
think that a a reason why you
shouldn’t love him?”bhe said dry
ly. “And he loves yon, also? 7
“I should die to-morrow, if I
thought he did not."
Tut, child. People leave this
world when God wills it, not be
fore. I dare say you would sur
vive his infidelity. MaDy women
before you hare lived through such
things.”
“Don’t talk of it, Margaret, I
could not bear it. Why, lie is all
the world to me. How could I
hear to lose it?” *
“Then don't wish him to be a
city merchant, my dear. I dare
say there are many good men in
tlie city—men who love their wives
—but, on the other hand, there
are so many temptations, especial
ly in society, that I sometimes
wonder Dot that so many go astray,
but that so many remain true tv
had a far-away glance, as ii they
dwelt on other things.
Jenny ventured a question,
“Margaret, is yours a happy
marriage? Do you love vonr hus
band? And does he love you?”
Mrs. Von Howth started and
turned pale.
“Jenny, I would have 1 loved
him—I would have been a good
wife to him—but he never loved
me. He brought me to place at
the head of the house because he
thought me ladylike and interest
ing; that was all. He told me
once though not quite so -plainly
as this. And since then we have
each taken our own way, indepen
dent of the other. I seldom Bee him
at our house in town. I have my
carriage, my diamonds, my opera
box- In the season I go to Sara
toga, or Newport, while he favors
Long Branch with his presence.
We are perfect strangers to each
other; Ve never quarrel; and I
suppose if I were to die to-morrow
he’d be uu inconsolable widower—
for a week. Jenny, you will not
wish to change places with me
again. Your husband might change
as mine bus done, exposed to the
same temptation. Thank heaven I
you have him as he is—a good
true man, who loves you—and
never m.nd the butter anil oheese,
Jenny, so long as yonr turfoinesn
and his is made up withlfSfc/’*
She rose from her seat and stroll
ed up the garden walk.
Jenny did not follow. She sat
on the step loBt in thought. Tho
riddle of her triend'B life was at
last made clear to her. She had
often wondered why Margaret, in
the truest of ail her wealth and
luxury, should seem so sad. She
wondered no longer now.
To he the wife of a man who
had ng love for you! What “low
er deep” can there he than this for
a proud sensitive woman?
Jedny turned with teui - in her
eyes to meet the stalwart husband
as he camo from the field.
“Well, little woman,” he cried,
and then site gor the hearty kiss
for which she was looking.
Yes, Margaret was right. The
butter and oheese were of little
consequence, while love like this
made her task easy to endure.
And the rosy-cheeked little wo
man bent fondly down over her
“Hiram” as hefluog himself down
n t he porch seat, and fanned hitn,
talked to him, brought him lem
onade, and made him thoroughly
happy and at rest.
Poor Margaret! Happy Jeonyl
Never again would she wish to he
more—only a farmer's wife.
relief, bore hint to a sofa, where, after
two or three efforts to articulate, both
respiration and pulsation ceased.
Tiie family physician was Bent for,
hut being absent, word was left for him
to call immediately on * his return.
.Meanwhile no aigna of life were visible
in Mr. Bauaoh, aud the family convinc
ed of his doath, sent for an undertaker,
who cRme, aud was also convinced of
the death of Mr. Buusch. Before go
ing hack to his atore for iea aud box,
with which to pdeserve tho body until
the time for the funeral, lie attached
tile usual crape insignia of deatli to
the front do'or hell.
He was gone an hour, and then when
he reached the house and prepared to
remove the body to the box tho jar of
removal startled the supposed corpse
into life. Sneezing first, he gusped for
breath, and in a few momenta circula
tion which had been temporarily sus
pended resumed its course, uud, though
weak, Mr. Bauach became once more a
man among the living. The family
rejoiced at the recovery, oveiwlielmed
him with attention, and even the un
dertaker felt pleasure in the usual ter
mination to his services, aud joined
congratulation. He quickly hastened
to the removal of his paraphernalia, tho
last tiling to take down, beiug the badge
of crape from the door, which for two
hours Imd been suspended there.—Ex.
SAVED BY A SNEEZE.
A Supposed Dead Man’s Farrow
Escape prom Burial.
Emoil Bauscli, of Floyd street, near
Throop avenue, Williamsburg, Tenn.,
who has been suffering for some time
from heait disease, sat down to ilia
dinner table yesterday seemiugly in
his usual health. After partaking
heartily of the viands placed before
him, ho rose from the table, but wsb
taken with what he thought a faint
ing fit, and said he felt sick; then,
throwing up his hands, lie fell on the
floor.
The family, thoroughly startled,
though they had long been expecting
such an occurrence, hastened to bis
[ BEFORE THE ALTER.
An Earthquake at it Wedding.
An Effect of Evil Omen Upon
the Ukide—She Falls Into a
Deep Melanuiioly and At-
" truafTTio Poises Her-,
SELF, r , ' 1
The Memphis Avalanche writes
of a sail marriage day, to a happy
couple in the city. About two
years ago a brijal party were as-
semhedina city church under
circumstances that would seem to
presage a bright and happy future
to the galaut groom and the fair
flower of maidenhood whom he
had won to bear him company in
tho struggles of life. They were
worthy of each other, and stood
there in the presence of the min
ister who was about to unite them,
with the full approval of family
and friends. They were attended
hv a chosen company ol theiryouth-
ful companions, who breathed the
hope that their future might be
as cloudless as that of the two who
stood
BBF-U'E TIIE ALTER.
The ohurc'- was filled with tho
friends of both parties and the usu-
nl numbers of curious outsiders.
At last the bridal party had as
sumed their proper position, and
all eyes were fixed upon the bride
as she stood by tho side of the one
into whose keeping she was about
to entrust her honor and happiness.
And he, with his stalwart form
and manly air, seemed well fitted
for the trust. Everything being
ready, the mini Her read the mar
riage service, and naught was
heard except responses of the bride
and groom—the one faint and low
and the other prompt and clearly
spoken.
The service waB nearly done.
The minister said: “I pronounce
you man and wife.” <At the mo
ment that the words were ottered
the
AIR BKCOMINO SUDDENLY DARKENED,
aud before the amazed assembly could
move from their seats the church wax
violently shaken by the shock of an
earthquake. In a moment Mbthing
could bo hoard hut the shrieks of wo
men aud tiie confused Bound of the
mass of people mailing to the door.
Fortunately no one was eeriousiy hurt
in the panic,‘-although several were
badly bruised in the crush, and many
had their clothes tom almost off in the
frantic endea-ors of tho crowd to reach
tiie outer air. But how was it with
the bridal party? In the first moment
of the excitement tiie bridesmaid and
groomsmen had fled, aud when the
church Was cleared three ]ieraons only
remained at the alter—the minister
and themewly married cuuple—and the
trio presented a acene that Rembrandt
wonld have immortalized. Tiie man
of God had left Ids portion behind the
ah-er and stood by the bridegroom's
side, who stood with pallid face and
shaking limbs, his heart almost mo-
tiouleaa with fear as lie aiqqiorted in
ilia anus the
LIFELESS FORM OF HI8 RlllDE
and frantically attempted, by agonized
appeals and kisses showered upon her
illianswei ing lips, to recall 1m to con
sciousness. At last ahe revived, but
her eyes had no sooner opened than
she shrieked and again fainted awav
By this time the minister hud gone out
and procured a curriuge, and into this
was placed the unconscious bride. Her
husband followed, and they were driv
en rapidly to tiie beautiful hums that
Imd been prepared for them. A physi
cian was summoned at ohce, and after
a while succeeded in reviving the un
fortunate girl. Indue time ahe recov
ered her usual bodily health, but in
place of the joyous spirits that were
once heu peculiar charm, there was a
settled melancholy which not the ten-
derest attention of her husband, or tiie
strenuous eudeavoi-a of loving friends,
could dispel. In vain was she taken
to every amusement that the city af
forded. The distracted youug husband
at last thought of trying the effect of
travel,'andl throwing a-^kUbj alaima
of business,’ he took 1 heiTaia SKr to 1
the gayest, .cities of the North and
West. She went without a murmur
to evejy place suggested, aud was grate
ful for his care and solicitude, hut her
spirits sank lower and lower, until fi.
Rally her husband brought her home in
despair. On being naked tiie cause of
her melancholy, she always replied,
“that terrible omenand nothing could
induce her to say more. Months pass
ed on and grew to years, aud still the
shadow remained upou this household.
The bride now merged into the matron
and mother, but never recovered from
the shock sustained on that happy
wedding duy. She was as tender aud
thoughtful in her treatment of her
husband and child ns could bo imagin
ed, but the melancholy that hud first
characterized her manner hud now be
come a settled sadness that never chang-
A bo lit two Weeks ago it was noticed
tliut alio was even in lower i pirita than
formerly, and about ten days ago she
ATTKMl-TED To COMMIT SUICIDE
by taking strichuine; hut her condition
was fortunately discovered in time and
a physician summoned at once, Mho,
by prompt measures, saved her life,
Since this time the unfortunate lady
has remained in the- same depressed
condition as before the attempt upon
her life, and what the result of this
Buperstitious fear of tiie marriage day
will be, time only can show.
WANTS AND WISHES,
We aBked a girl what she wanted
most and she said, ‘a lover.’
We asked a wife what she want
ed most and she said, ‘kind words
from my husband, and children to
bear his name.’
We asked a hoy what he wanted
and he said, ‘a sweetheart and a
hanby home.’
We asked a miser what he waned
and he replied, ‘gold more gold.'
We asked a gadding woman
what she wauted, and she replied,
‘dress and more news to tell mV
m-ighbuiH.’
We asked a mother what aim
wanted, and ahe said, my darling*
to love me.'