THE BUTLER HERALD.
PnMIslicil lly
W. N. BENNS.
A WEEKLY DEMOCRATIC NEWSPAPER, DEVOTED TO INDUSTRY AND CIVILIZATION..
Tcriiis,
0\E DOLL A It A YEA Jl.
In Advenco
VOLUME
BUTLER, GEORGIA* TUESDAY, ACUUsr |l», 1S7».
W HOLE M'.MHEH 144
THE BUTLER! HERALD.
W. N. BF.NN9.
Editor and PulLslior.
BUuacmPTioN Fnica $1.00, Pan Annum,
TUK3DAY AUGUST 101U' 1879.
BY THE SEA.
Mjr blae-eyod pet, with golden hair,
la Ftting on my knee,
And gazes oagorly afar,
Across the beach beyond the bar,
Where rolls the restless sea,
She puts hor little hand in mine,
And laughs with childish glee.
To aeo the foaming billows splash.
As on tho shore they fiercely dash,
And gaido back silently.
But when she langhs so merrily,
My heart is far away,
And as I look upon the shore,
Where loud and long the breakers roar,
My sad soul seems to say:
"The sea is like a human life;
It breaks npon the shore
Of time with a restless might,
And when the goal is jast in sight,
Dies to return no more.
‘And all along the shore of time.
Fall many a wreck doth lie;
Tho pangs of many a mnd carouse
Ot blasted hopes and broken vows,
Of buppy days gone by. ’
Yet while I mnse in mournful mood,
And gaze npon the sea ,
My blac-oyed pet, with golden hnlr,
Whose heart has never known a care,
Still sits npon my knee.
Her head is railing on my breast,
Her eyes in Blumbor deep;
The SAtne rough sea whose breakers roar,
And madly, fiercely lash the shore,
Has lulled my child to sieop.
Life For Life-
“You have soni for me, minium.
The time nnd place are atraogely
chosen, but I have obeyed your
summonB, and await your further
commands.”
A bright, harvcBi moon shown
full upon Oscar Redcliffe’s face,
as, with his handsome head erect,
his straight young figure drawn to
its full height, ho fastened his
keon, dark eyes upou the shrink
iug figure at hia side.
At that moment, elevon strokes
from the village clock sounded on
the still air, while in the distance
through the trees, glimmered the
light from Madam Rivier's chateau.
“Osoar/'she said, in low, tremb
ling tones, “is it thus you answer
me? Have you no word of pity
for me? Or, lacking pity, notono
of sympathy with my misfortunes?
Do you not appreciate all that
do and dare in meeting you here
to-night—my husband’s jealous
anger, did bo discover the truth-
the world's uncompromisingscorn?
Why have I sent for you? To toll
you all—to have you thmk less
hardly of me, if may be—to ex
plain to you the mesh of circnm
stances which were woven about
me, so that I oould not eecapo.”
“Explanations aro not necessary
to mo, madam. Are you aware
that I have broken an engagement
with my botrothed to obey your
summons this evening?”
‘Betrothed”—even in the moon
light tho man saw the sudden pal
lor whioh marked check aud lip,
as the woman at his side gasped
out the word “Betrothed” she re
peated, after a moment's pause
“Cruel ouel Have you then in
I
“Oscar, hush! Do not bury me
under tho weight of your scorn.
I did marry na old man for his
gold, but it was at my father’s
bidding, nnd to save him from dis
honor. Tho name my husband has
given me I will ever honor. Bnt
I could not resist the temptation,
when 1 heard you had returned,
after a year’s absence, to your
home, to see you, to look oooe more
into your face, and hear from your
own lips the precious assurance of
you forgiveness. I should be glad
for forgetfulness as well, but I cau-
not— I cannot!'
The man’s fnce softened ns he
looked. The downcast hoail of the
woman at his side was very beau
titul. The slight frame shivered
with excitement. He drew a step
nearer, and laid his hand upon
her arm.
Blanohe,” he said—and as tho
old familliar name foil from his
lips, it found an eoho in the listen
er’s heart—“perhaps I have beeo
too hard, but the memory of that
far-off time iB very bitter, and if
at Inst another woman's smile has
wiped it out, you should rejoice,
rather than murmur. 1 may have
judged you harshly. You must
remember had I fastened the col-
fin-lid upon your beauty, it could
not have been more utterly lost to
me. Ah, then, indeed, I should
not have felt it lost, but for a time.
Ab it is, it was for eternity.”
“Ah, Oscar, I buried myself,
tny honrt, my huppiness, on my
wedding day. Say you, too, hav
felt a pang; that you do not de
spise me lor sending for yon to tell
you this when already you had
given the v ws sworn to me to an
other,”
They were bulled bank at my
feet, thank God! A hand, lovely
as your own, stooped and rescued
them. For her sweet saao, Ufa onco
more grow precious. Her Imago
to fill the v&cant place your
haunting p><~.n.yt mocked with its
emptiness—a ghost, a slmuu
whioh tortured while I oould not.
clasp it. The sunshine of hor
smile chased away tho gloom ol
the grave within my hoart. Yet
to-night she has missed me by her
side, and I have come at your bid
ding, But it is growing late. Let
me lead you to the entrance of the
park ami Iwive you, ”
True! I ha,l forgotten how
tho moments flow. 1 came to ask
you to forg.ve me—I find forgot
fulness renders it unnecessary
Now I ask you to lemt-mber me—
to think son atimes, when you clasp
your wife cose in your protecting
love, ol tho lonely woman who no
longer has ven a memory to cheer
and comfor her; and—and if you
ever toll Aar ho story, to add tlmt 1
was not all j litame* Good night,”
And wavng him back witli one
white hand shedisuppeared among
the trees.
A few mi lints he stood motion
less. Thenterview had shaken
him moro inn he would acknowl
edge. Pal momories, like ghosts,
intended for his heart; hut i. lew I
groan showed it hah rcaohoJ an
other destination.
Making liis way quickly is the
direction ol the sound, ho stumbled
over tho piostrnte form of a man,
dyeing his clothes in the blood
which ohbod from a gaping wound.
The moon’s rays shown full upon
a ghastly face.
He started back, his own lips
ashen, as he recognized the lius-
be somo other way to establish my | v0 (, ,
but remember, you,
innocence, you uniat believe me whom I have loved so well, aro
guilty
As be was remanded back to his
cell, after the preliminary exami
nation, to be held for trial, ho found
awaiting him in the ante-room the
face whose pleading ho had seem
ed so heartlessly to resist.
“Oscar,” she implored, “do von
know that my life and happiness
are at stake with yours? Shall
band of the woman from whom he some false sentiment of houor keep
had parted barely five minutes bo-iyour lips closed? Do you owe me,
f° ro « your betrothed, nothing?”
came troo
suddenly
smile up<
ng before him, when
girl's face seemed to
him through the dark-
deed bo forgotten? Oh, eliame
oh, humiliation 1 And 1 sent fori*' _ ,
you to ask you to forgive, when‘for a momer he thought tho 1
ness, undhe shadows fled.
“Majoi i, my darling 1” he
whispere and with rapid strides
vanished' lid the trees.
He was ill surroundod bv their
gloom, w out
the stil^ight. air, so close that
11
“Merciful oeaven!'’he whisper
ed, when a hand fell heavily npon
his shoulder.
“Assassin!” murmured a voice
in his ear.
Aud turning he confronted two
men, whom the noise of the shot
had attracted to the spot. In vain
he attested his inaocenco,
“Explain it to the courts/’ they
auswered, “not to os/'
And summoning ether help to
carry the wounded and insensible
man to his home, he followed them
uniesistiugly, whither they would.
Tho night wore heavily away.
Each moment, as he paced ‘.he floor
of tho room in which he had beou
confined, awaiting his examina
tion, revealed to him tho hideous
ness of his position.
Not yet had he washed tho blood
stains from his bunds. His eyes
second fascinated to gaze upon
them, for with the m or mug light
he knew would come tho question,
What motive prompted your
presence in the baron's private park
at such an hour?'’ Aud to this
question he could assigu no an
swer. ‘
To say he had gone there to
meet the woiutiu who lmd once
been his promised bride, but who
was now tho honored wile of an
other, would he to forever sully
her fair name. Houor compelled
him to keep silent—houor hade
him give up his life, if need be
uu»w«o finicst/, the bareness revealed
the truth.
It was as ho had foreason. Tn
the crowded court-room, the fatal
question rang his death-knell in his
ear. Majorie Blaine’s sweet,plead
ing face, of y^hich he caught a mo
mentary glimpse in tho distant
corner where she sat. seemed to
say, “For my sake,/at whatever
cost, toll tho truth.”
A week had passed dingo that
horrible night, The baron^tiU
e;od unconscious, and with hut
littuTbope 6f his recovery. Ru
mor was not slow to assign a mo
tive for the deed. Jealously of
the man who had won the prize he
had failed in securing. His own
noble name, his untarnished youth,
were swallowed up in the fright
ful suspicion which engulfed him;
and as he stood iti the prisoner’s
dock, faces which had ever smiled
upon him were now turned away,
‘1 can only plead my inuooence,
he said, when called upon—“can
only swear that no man among
you is more guiltless than am 1;
but of how I spent the last hour,
thesecietis my owu—mine for
eternity 1 Gentlemen, unless there
“My ownl” lie said, clasping
her close in his embrace. “Do
not make my task impossible!
Give me the asmirace of your trust,
your faith, then leave mo to my
conscience.”
One moment she looked into the
dark eyes, whose passionate fond
ness dwelt upon her, thou an
swered hravelv:
“Ah you will, then. My faith,
my trust, are yours forever! v
“Can it ho,” she thought, ns,
with eyes which burned yet shed
no tears, she watched him from her
sight, “that the woman ho odci
loved can know of this—that sh
has aught to do with this secret
that keeps him silent? Yet l have
said that I will trust him. Aye,
so I will, hut 1 must go to her,
and ask hor, if in her power, to
unlock his silenco.”
It was a young, a lovely fat
which looked with such i in pi or in
eyes into that older, more bernti-
ful ouo of the baroness, summon
ed from hor husband’s bedside.
“Oscar Redoliff is accused of
murder, you tell mo, and this ru
mor has not reached mo here. You
say you know his futo is in my
bands. You arc right—yon are
right! hut, oh, how can I, without
bringing worse than death upon
myself, buy his aequital? At such
a price would he desire it?”
“Madam,” tho young girl an
swered, “you surely loved him
once, when you were his betrothed,
though I have heard the story of
how cruelly you jilted him. Lot
tho memory of tho past love plead
with you now, and add to it my
agony!”
“Child, leave mu! Lot mo think,
plan, do something to unravel this
horrible webl'*
Tho day ot trial dawned clear
and bright. Thesuu mocked with
its warm rays tbe crowded court
room.
One witness tfter another was
examined, uutil the uume of the
Baroness do Jiiviure startled uli
present.
“I am a wlness by my own de
sire,” she begin in low clear tones,
‘‘sincu 1 alone can save this man from
death, llo enno iuto the park) that
night, to incof me by my request. Once
wo ii^d been (Overs. 1 loved him still
I know that 1 had wronged him, and
my hjart yearned for one forgiving
vrordj It was wrong, I know. Have
1 not met my punishment? We met}
ho toq mo ho was botrothed to anoth
er—tlht ho had long since learned for*
gi remits in forgetfulness, I should have
rqoiuei at this; but I did<aot, I could
not. Wretched, 1 left him, to return
to my duty, vjovaV'to see Jhim more,
murderess!”
'With tlicRe words—oh spare me!
—ho drew a pistol, placed it to hi*
heart, nnd fired. I screamed and fled.
Oscar, hearing the shot, sprung to his
side; hut lie is innocent, and I am
guilty. My husband is dead!”
Whiter and whiter had grown the
ghastly lips which told the tale, until,
at tho last words, tho beautiful bead
drooped low.
1 he excitement lmd proved more
than the slight frame could bear. The
heart fluttered, and was forever *«!!!.
Madam had gone for judgment a
igher and more merciful judge.
But in tho long years of happiness
Majorie and Oscar have since known,
I heir hands never fail in bringing flow-
to the grave of her who sinned for
her love’s sake, and who redeemed her
by giving up her life low his.
WHOLE TOWN DLSTKOIKU,
Tho town of Volcano (West Vu.) of
2,000 inhabitants was totally cousutu*
l by fire on the morning of the 4th
inst. Tho flames spread rapidly, nnd
'Rolling Romo oil tanks they caugt and
burst, the burning oil running through
the sheets, nnd Retting fire to buildings
on both sides, COO barrels of oil were
burned, ten stoles, tho post office, tele
graph office, hotel, walking beam,
printing office, all the dwelling houses)
the West Virginia Transportation of
fice, Smith’s boiler works, oiie pumps
ing station, nnd other small buildings.
Nearly everything is a total loss, ns al
most tho entire contents of the stores
and dwellings were consumed for want
of time to teinove them. The fire was
undoubtedly tho work of un incendiary.
There were two attempts made a short
tiino ago to burn the town, ami since
that time watchmen wore put on all
night, and had just gono off of duty
when tlm tiro was discovered. Loss
♦75,000; insurance. *43,000.
“(Joining Evon <s Cast their Shad-
In Beattie’s “Life of Thomas Camp
bell,” tho following anecdote is preserv
ed respecting tho well known couplet
of “Lochiel:”
‘.Tin tho sunset of Hfogives me mystical loro,
And coining events cast their shallows before.
Tho happy thought first presented
itself to his mind during a visit at Min
to. He lmd gone early to bed, aud
still meditating cm tho wizard’s ‘•warns
ing” fell fast asleep. During tho night
ho suddenly awoke, repeating, “Events
to como cast their shadows before.”
This was tho very thought for which
he bail been hunting for tho whole
week. Ho rang tho boll more than
onco, with increased force. At last,
surprised and nnoyed by so unreasona
ble an appeal, tho servant appenred.
I Tho poet was sitting with one foot on
tho bed and the other on the floor, with
nn air of mixed impatience aud inspi
ration. jf'
“Sir, aro you ill?” inquired the ser
vant.
“111? Never bettei insty life. Leave
tno tin* caudle nnd oblige mo with a cup
Of ton as soon a.\ possible.”
He thon started to his feet, seized
hisqicn and wrote down the “eappy
thought,” but as ho wrote cluingck the
words “events to como” into “coming
evouts,” as they now stand.
Looxing at his watch, ho observed
that it was two o’clock—tho right hour
for poets to dream—nnd over his cup
of tea ho completed tho first sketch of
“Lochid’s Warning.”
alrcudy you hod Darned to lorget’’ j “ £ Imsbajd appeared
“Nay, madam; calm yourself 1 Ha hMi {Mo J, iUm f m „,
Partially to this, I acoed.e4.an — 4 ftho Iiou.m., hud heimU.ll.
ily to your comi»' aIllls - ourely a: | ..WrotcLeU worn. m 1” lji exclaiim-d,
‘Jiio* Baroness de Riviere do 1. “think you that 1 want tjo ornpty ves» w ..
properly emphasize the title 1 the. 8C | } | 0V eiy faco, ,j 10 t .Jpdsito form,! the 3rd inst. She hud been sick for
fact of my forgiveness can weigh, when your heart has ovrj been anoth-' several months, but boro her affliction
but little!” Iwiil give you balk the freedom | with true Christian resignation.
Mrs. Emory Speer died at tho homo
i** ! of hor husband in Athens on Suuduy
