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WAVERLY MAGAZINE,
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THE FAMOUS
fIDISON
■■ Musical
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~*/ i * . f • ■ ■—
“A Map of Busy Life—lts Fluctuations and its Vast Concerns.’*
ELLIJAY, 6.4., THURSDAY, AUGUST 3. 1882.
The Three Little Chairs.
They sat alone by the bright wood fire,
The gray-haird dame and the aged sire,
Dreaming of days goue by ;
The tear-dropr fell on eacli wrinkled
cheek,
They both bad thoughts they could not
speak,
And each heart uttered a sigh.
For tbtff sad and tearful eyes described
Three little Chairs placed side by side
Against the Sitting-room wall,
Old-fashioned enough a* there they stood,
Theh’ seats of flag and their frames of
wood,
W ith their backs so straight aod tali.
Then the sire shook his silvery head,
And with trembling voice, lie gently said,
“Mother, those empty chairs I
They bring us such sad thoughts to-night
We’ll put them forever out of sight
In the small daik room up-stairs.”
But she auswered, “Father, no ; not yet ;
For I look at them awl forget
That the children are away ;
The boys come back, and our Mary, too,
I With her apron of checkered blue,
And sit there every day.
“Johnny still whittles a ship’s tall masts,
And Willie Iris leaden bullets casts,
WhileMaiy her patchwork sews ;
At evening the three childiab prayers
Go up to God from these little chairs
tso softly that no oue kuows.
“Johnny comes hack from the billow deep;
Willie wakee from the battle-field sleep
To say ‘good night’ to me ;
Mary’s a wife and mother no more,-
But a tired child whose play time’s o’er,
And comes to rest at my kuec.
So let them stand there, though ernuiy
now,
And every time when aloue we Itow
At the Father’s throue to pray,
We’ll ask to meet the children above
In our Saviour’s home of rest and love,
Where no child goeth a wav. ”
PHILIP’S PRIDE.
“You don’t seem glad of my
good fori une, Philip,” said pretty
Rose Ellison, in a disappointed
tone, and with something like a
pout of vegetation on her rosy
lips. “When first the news came
io me that Uncle George, whom
I had never seen, had died and
left me $20,000, it was you of
whom I Ihought first of all.
‘For, 5 said lio my 8 If, ‘poverry’
will no longer separate us ? “Sure
ly you know”—she came closer
te His lover’s side, and slipped her
little fair hand in his—“surely you
know ihat what is mine is yours,
Phil.”
Philip Severn looked down ai
i he lovely, pleading face and soft
Iv caressed her bright hair.
“That cannot be, my darling,”
said he 'with a sigh. “A penni
less, struggling artist, who scarce
ly earns bread and butter yet,
is no match for you—less now
that you have this money than
before. We still must wait until
fortune smiles on me, dear; until
I am able to provide a home for
my wife.” Then, nothing the
tears that spraug to the tender
eyes, and how the bright smile
died ; “don’t discourage mi, dar
ling; do I not long to claim you?
Is not rtiylife a hard and lonely
one? Don’t I long to gather my
lovely Rose, and wear it in my
heai*l fdfever, "to sweeten audi
brighten life? But l should feel!
like a dependent on my wife.'
Only let me see my success as
sured, and I will cotoe and claim
your promise to be my precious
wife.”
In this hope they parted. The
academy opened in a few weeks.
Philip wrote to Rose, and he
worked night and day to com
plete the picture, which was to
be for him the first -step upward
to success, If it had depended
upon his exertions alone, that suc
cess would haVe been assured,
r fof the rttefft 6f the painting was
indisputable; but alas!' other
people had too much lo do With
it—lhe Committee w'ho decided
how the picture should be hung
had the power to either make or
mar hi? fortunes, and thov roar
red them!
He walked the through rooms,
looking an im I eagerly, anxious
ly. and Tor a while vainly, too.
Surely, lie thought with disap
pointment and wildly beating
heart, surely there had been some
mistake and his paintings were
not there- Ah I yes—there it
was. Willi difficulty he supprss
ed a cry of rage and disappoint
ment—there it was, hung up in
an out of the way corner in the
worst possible light where no one
would give it any special notice,
and he himself had hardly been
able to find it at all, be turned
away heartsick and and despair
ing,-his efforts had been nullified,
his bGpes blasted, his fortune
ruined. lie went home, and half
crazed vmh disappointment be
wrote to Rose:
“I have failed. 1 refuse to
bind you to a life which Can be
nothing bul poor and miserable.
Failure and poverty are bad
enough for myself; I will not
drag you down} to them. Fare
well, my love, and forget pue whe
iieyer will forget you—either in
life or death.
Philip.”
lie thought that death was on
him while he wrote. Privation,
for he was very poor—hard work,
suspense, excitement, disappoint
ment, had done their work, As he
sealed the letter it fell from his
fingers lo the floor, and his ach
ing head dropped heavily on the
table.
* * * * *
Next morning a certain picture
dealer on Broadway received a
visit from a lady. She asked him
had he been at the exhibition of
the night belore, aud had he no
ticed a certain picture. The deal
er comessed that he had not seen
it.
“I am not surprised at that,”
said Ihe lady, calmly, ‘Tor they
have hung it as if lo prevent its
being seen. It is beatuilul, how
ever, and I desire to purchase it.”
She handed lnm a check for a
thousand dollars.
Will you transact the business
wilh the artist for me without
suffering my name to appear?
And - 1 wish more than this. I
want you to do what the exhibit
ors have not done —bring this art
ist’s merit before the people prop
erly—-exhibit my nicture in your
rooms and windows and make it
known. Money is no obfvet, Mr.*
Brown—lf you will onhr buy the
picture for me and make famous
(If you find it worthy) afterward.”
The matter waS speedily ar
ranged. Mr. Brown agreed to do
all that was required of him. He
saw the picture and p'rononeed it
—in spite of the disadvantage of
its position —admirable.”
‘Til call upon the artist this
afternoon,' said he, and so He did*
"Mr. Severn was ill,” the
frowsy servant who admitted him
informed him ; “and if you’re any
friend of his, missiiVlt be glad,'
she added, M or something has got
to be dofie.Tie’squile out of his
head, a moaning and calling for
f “Rose, whoever she is, and there
laint nobody t 6 wait upon him
j here, soop soul, and missus talks
of seuding him to the hospital,
if you know auylkihg Who Rose is
you’d better send her to lnm. ’
Mr. Brown made his way up
stairs to the sick man’s room.
Philip lay, as the girl had de
scribed, delirious, and tossing in
fever. Mr. Brown look iu all
the miserable poverty of the
room, and in glance read the art
ist's sorrowful story —ho was a
kindhearled man atid it touched
him.
1 ‘IIel)as gone through a long
and bitter struggle here,” he
mused,‘‘and the Way they hung
his picture has giVeu him a fin
ishing blow. Poor Jellow! So
gifted, too! its a shame , and now
when fortune begins to smile on
him he’s too illto know it. If as
he no friends, I wonder? And
who is Rose ? His handsome
young palrbness might find that
oat, if I tel! her his position—she
seems to be eccentric find rich.”
Susl then his eyes fell on a letter
on the floor and he picked it up.
“To Miss Rose Ellison,* he mut
tered, reading the address. ' “By-
Jove, the verv name!” He glanc
ed at the restless figure on -the
bed, and a light of sudden com
prehension flashed into his shrewd
eyes; “I fancy I’ve stumbled
upon a tery little romance here,”
thought he; “I’ll deliver this let
ter to her myself.*
Two hours later poor Philip
had been removed fiom the gar
ret to a large and comfortable
rodYn, and Rose Was m attend
ance by ft:s side. For weeks sbe
nursed him as he hovered be
tween life and death, until one
day he opened his sunken eyes
and fixed them, with the light oi
reason in them once more, upon
her face. “Rose,” he said, oh, so
faintly. “Rose—my darling P
And Rose fell down upou her
knees and thanked God, for she
knew herloter was restored to
ber.
“Your picture is sold,” she
whispered to him softly. “Mr.
Browu, the dealer, bought it and
it is to go upon exhibition in his
gallery as soon as the academy
closes. And he has called at
tention to it, dearest ; aud the
papers have mentioned it witii
favor and be has recommended
you amonglnVcustonJer# and has
orders for you as soon at % oil are
weli enough to work again.”
“If there is work for me to do,
so that I shall not eOine to my
wite a pauper—little faithful wife
of mine, let us be married at
once.”
And so they were on the very
uexl day, and Mr. Brown gave
the bride away. He also banded
the artist one thousand dollars.
“Tiie price ot your picture,” he
said, quietly, “and mark my
words, it went too cheap. It will
be worth twice that Some day.”
Philip turned and gave the
money to his bTide.
“Our purse is common hence
forth,” said he. “As for mv
picture—God bless the purchas
er, afid that is yourself, is it not l
Or if you purchased it tor anoth
er. may I know my benefoctor's
name? For indeed be is't’o me a
benefactor.”
But Mr. Brown only laughed
an and t urn ed 16 Rose.
“Shall I tell him his patron’s
name V* said he roguishly.
She came suddenly and knelt
by Philip’s side and twined her
arms arouud his neck.
“Philip, my husband,” she
said, humbly, ‘ forgive me that 1
was the purchaser. Mr. Brown
says the picture will be Worth
mucfrmorfe some days" and even
now he offers to fee? f ft from mo,
but I camwt bfe&rthaf aiWrtfhger
Adfeltf-lfttWH; (barest To* will
paint others—!et them be Sol*,
but love,let me keep this*
Philip lay very si iff' a little
while and tftfen he ttrrned and
clasped and kissed her.
**l understand,” he said, softly.
“My wife, votrr love has conquer
ed my pride. Henceforth we
work hand in hUbd together I”
Then he turned half timidly to
Mr. Brown. “Tell me the honest
truth,” said lie, ‘would any one
but my' wife Imre bought that
picture
"‘Not as it Was hung,” said the
dealer frankly. “It couldn’t be
seen, much less bought. But I U
find Jou If you
: clldo3e,'br take it at fay tWn risk
tomorrow! Hero are orders for
two such paintings. You wanted,
my dear, sir. wlfat many an artist
has wanted before you—some
one to find you out. Here,'’;
pointing to Rose, “here is your 1
VOL VII NO. 25.
discoverer! God give good ;uck
t o you K*
They had good itiek and much
happftfiefis. The artist is rich to
day, fin'd the famous “first pict
ure” that called ttre world’s at
tention to his genius' hangs—in
the best of fill positrohs and
lights in his fair wife’s drawing
room;
It is worth a great deal more
than a thousand dollars now. and
Rose herself would hoi take all
the money in the tforld for it.
Sittihg with her Children around
her, she tells them its history
sometimes—the history of the
days of poverty of. which they
have no knowledge, of their
father* struggles and despair—-
oi her loving stratagem, and how.-
by love, she conquered Philip's'
pride.
' | Elephant Memory.
| A parallel instance of elephan
' memory ispffurded by tne case
©i an elephant Which, having
broken loose from the stables cm
a stormy night, escaped into the
jungles. Four years thereafter,-
when a drove of wild ei pi.:
was captured in the “kencaa", r ■
enclosure, the keeper of the
elephant went to inspect the now
arrivals, and climed on the rail
ings ol the ‘ fcetiiaii” io ootant -
satisfactory view of the eap.:u-.t
animals. Having fancied that
amoug the animals captured he
recognized the ©scaped elephant
—ail idea ridiculed by bis com
rades—he called his lo> charge
by its name. The aniro,; or.ee
came close to the barrier, and on
the keeper proceeding into the’
enclosure and commaudiug it to
lie down, the elephant obeyed,
and tlie man led his former charge
triumphantly forth Irom among
his wild comoaions. But the
memory of kiudne-s i S equalled
in the elephant by that which re
call? get? oT injury fo’ retoem
brauce. The wCld-knoWn story
ot the Indian elephant which, otf
being pricKed by a native tailor,
near whose stall it had wandered,
'returned and deluged the u.au
with a shower bath of dirty vater.
; hnds many parallels to It Histo
ry of elephant chafiacter. An e!-
| ephant Which was kept ax Versa
| ilies by Louis XiV. was iu the
i habit of revenging himself tor
adronts and injuries. A mau who,-
feigning to.throw something into
his month, disappointed him. was
beaten to-the ground with the
•runk and trampled upou. Oil a’
painter desiring to sketch this
elephant with the trrfnk erect and
mouth open, his servant was in
structed to feed fhe elephant tor
the purpose of inducing Hid ani
mal to assume the desired atti
tude. But the supply of food tail
ing short and elephantine chagrin'
being aroused* ihe elep h an t,-
drawing Wp water into his" trunk,*
coo Ilf Showered it dowiY upon the"
unfortunate pa in te r and Iris'
sketchy drenching the one and
rendering fhe other useless.—-
Mtlgeuuia.
—*—*— ■ , „
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PAKKfiHRS "*
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