Newspaper Page Text
VOLUME VI.
ASKING a blessing.
Ay, but wait, good wife, a minuti;
I have fir.J. a word to sav;
Do you know what dav to-day is?
Mother, ’tis our weddio3-day.
Just as now, we sat at supper
When the guests had gone away;
You sat that side, I sat this side,
Forty years ago to-day.
Then what plans we laid together;
What brave things I meant to do;
Could we dream to-day would hud us
At this table—me and you.
Better so, uo doubt yet I
(Sometimes think —I cannot tell—
ilnd onr boy-ah yes! I know, and: r,
Yes, He doeth all things well
Well, we'vo had our joys and sorrows;
Shared our smiles a? well as tears;
And the best of all, I’ve bad your
Faithful love for forty years.
Poor we’ve been, but not forsaken;
Grief we’ve known, but never shamo;
Father, for thy endless inejoies,
Still we bless Thy Holy Name.
s . . - \
MISCELLAAT.
RETRIBUTION;
OR
THE LOVE OF GOLD.
BY T. C. Jf.
A man whose age might have been
five and-fifty sat in a cosy arm-chair
in an old fashioned library. His face
was hard and cruel, and bore a strik
mg resemblance to the young person
who stood at his elbow, and looked
over his shoulder upon the mass of
jiapers that belittered a writing
desk.
A casual observer would have pro*'
nounced the pair father and son, tor
such relation they indeed bore to each
other as it was not difficult to sec.
Amos Gaston, the elder, had been a
ship merchant in one of our large sea
board cities, hut had retired to a coun
try -seat which had fallen to him by
the will of his younger brother James
who, with his entire family had been
lost on a Liverpool-bound vessel sev
eral years prior to the date of our nar
rative. It is said that the best sea
dealing men breathed fear when the
prosperous ship merchant retired, for
they called him a scheming rival, and
hinted at tricks that were bringing the
legitimate business into disrepute. —
Aid these tricks were laid secretly at
Amos Gaston's door.
His son Yoel, a man of thirty-two,
retired with him. They shut them
selves up, as it were, in the old ho ’se;
but they did not remain idle. Day
after-day they schemed, invested and
schemed again, through agents in the
city, until the Gaston coders seemed
overflowing with gold.
Misd is-liue, everything they* touch*
cd seemed to transform itself into
wealth.
The Gaston .legacy, ns it was called,
was a tract of rich land that extended
to the lovely banks of the Hudson liv
er, and lit for the country retreat of a
king. The house was a relict of the
days of the Knickerbockers, quaint in
style, substantial in structure and
roomy as a palace.
‘lt isn't among these papers, though
you may look over them if you wish/
said Amos Gaston looking up at his
son.
‘lt should be/ was the reply. e l
think you ought to take better care of
important papers. Don't you know
that our peace depends upon the re
tension of that document ? I labored
a long while upon it, and entrusted it
to your keeping, fondly believing that
it was safe there. Now see what you
have done. Don't lay the fault at my
door/"
Yoel Gastm was not pleased, as
his wards indicated, and his father
hit his lip, but did not utter a word in
reply.
'lf the will has been stolen, a pretty
"Outlook is before me/ Yoel continued
tartly. ‘I stand on the eve of mar
riage—’
Ilis father started and looked up in
such a manner as to interrupt the
speaker.
'Going to be married ? You have
a business-like manner of making such
an announcement/said Gaston
‘I consider it but a matter of busi
ness., and treat it as such. We used
to contract with Captain Hammerton
foi a ship-load of teas. I have con
tracted for a wife—that is all.*
‘Truly a business transaction/ Amos
Gaston said with a smile. ‘Who is the
lady V
‘Miss Stringate/
The ship merchant was on his feet in
an instant.
‘Noel Stringate's child ?'
‘Yes/
‘Yoel, my son, I wish you wonld
break the engagement/ the old man
said, pleadingly. Noel Stringate and
I have been foes for several years. He
has poisoned the air about us with sus
picion, lor I was his rival years ago in
the merchandizing business. He cer
tainly has not given his consent to the
affair/
‘lie has, indeed/ was the reply.—
‘Why he seemed eager for its consum
mation, which surprised me, as I hap
pened to know something of the un
pleasantness between you. He is rich
and not very far from the grave, and
Harriet is an heiress not to bo over
looked .'
‘Money, money !' cried Amos Gas
ton. ‘While I love to make it, I will
forego that pleasure if you will relin
quish your suit. There is something
behind Noel Stringate’s willingness.—
lie is the deepest plotter I have ever
known/
'Deeper than Amos Gaston and
son V asked Yoel, rather sarcastical
ly'<
'I don't know, but he is a foeman
worthy of our steel/ was the answer
And so you have promised to marry
his daughter ?'
‘Yes, sir ; and what is more I intend
to do so/
‘When ?'
‘Oh, as soon as preliminaries have
been perfected/ said the son in a non
chalent manner. *l‘ve bought the girl
but I shall not press the conveyance
of the property.
‘Then there is no love in this mar
riage ?
‘I should say not, seeing that Noel
Stringale forced his daughter to give
up a poor young fellow and listen to
me. Amos Gaston, let your mind go
back thirty-five years to-cight. Recall
your marriage with the woman who
gave me birth. You never loved my
mother, whom you wedded for the
dowery she possessed, and up to the
Gay of her death I never saw you give
her a smile, much less an affectionate
embrace. Your greedy lust for gold
took possession of your heart when a
boy and it blotted out the finer feel
ings of the soul. Now do not growl
because 1 am treading in the paths
which you have made—because I wor
shiped at the gilded altar before which
you have knelt and sacrificed to Mam
mon for forty years. I have chosen
my wife as you chose yours. You
looked at the dowery, not the woman;
so do I. Harriet Stringate is lovely,
but doesn't outshine her gold in a
Gaston’s eyes. The time is not far
distant when Noel Stringate and your
self will touch miserly heads, and plat:
how to pile golden dollars mountains
high,
‘‘l ca-n't countenance this matcli,
Yoel/ the father said, after a moment's
silence, 'l which I could, but this
does not prevent you from marry
ing/
‘Of coiu se not.’
‘I knew you would never bring a
beggar to the house. Noel Stringate
and I need not, of necessity, become
friends.
That is true—Harriet will get her
money, all the same.'
‘Just so. Now shall we take another
hunt for the will V
‘I advise it, and let it be a thorough
one. This matter causes me no little
uneasiness, for it is not absolutely cer
tain that every soul on board the Grey
Dawn perished.
Amos Gaston‘s face grew jdealhiy
pale at his son’s which
contained a thought that had bothered
him before.’
Then father and son examined the
papers on after which innu
merable ‘pigeon holes’ were rifled of
their contents, and drawers peeped
into with searching eyes.
But the paper which purported to
be the last will and testament of James
Gas.'on did not reward the hunters,
and Yoel Gaston turned suddenly on
his heel and left the library with a
curse
‘This is very strange V murmured
Amos Gaston with a puzzled expres
sion of countenance. ‘lt must have
been stolen, but by whom ? No per
sons save Yoel and myself have bad
access to these private papers for five
years;; but still the will ? s missing.—
And now to add another trouble to
the house, that boy is oing to form
an alliance with the house of Noel
Stringale, a man who never bore me a
good feeling since I caus and one of his
ships to be sunk in the Malay Archi
pelago. Now he is willing that my
son shall wed his daughter. lie me? s
mething, but I cannot prevent it. I
see the storm coming, but cannot fly
therefrom. Yoel Gaston, though you
are my son, I curse the day that gave
you to the world/
If ever a curse came from the heart
of man, that one came from the heart
of Amos Gaston. He looked like a
man on the brink of despair, with mer
ciless foes on his track. He parsed
the library, giving vent to fearful im
precations, many of which were hurl
ed at his son, nor did he pause until
the door .opened suddenly, and Yoel
stood before him.
'Were you calling tne/ he in
quired.
‘No/
‘I certainly heard my name men
tioned in a loud tone,’ was the re
p’y-
For a moment father and son stared
into each other's face but did not
speak.
‘1 did speak your name/ Amos Gas
ton said at last ; ‘but it was coupled
with a curse/
‘Oh, is that all/ sneeied the son.—
‘lf curses do no more harm than your
honesty has done l shall snap n?y fin*
gers at them. I am going up to the
capital. Any messages ?'
‘No. Stay ! you may send Burley, of
Burley & Cos., down.
‘Want a lawyer, eh? I can draw
up a will for you You know lam an
Id hand at the business.
Yoel Gaston laughed as he closed
the door ; but he heard his father say
as he strode off.
And your will making is likely to
get beta of us into the pouitentiat-y.
Then he called aloud :
‘Don'tsend Burley down!' and Yoel
passed out.
The skeleton beneath the Gaston
raof seemed to be causing a great deal
of trouble.
The dis 00 very that the will of James
Gaston was missing was enough to
blanch the checks of father and son,
who knew that it was forgery, which
if discovered would send them to the
State Prison.
The Grey Dawn, in which James
and his family, consisting of wife and
daughter, had sailed fm Liverpool, bad
been reported lost with all on board,
and subsequent informa lion confirmed
the report. Then it was the elder Gas
ton presented a paper claiming to be a
will which his brother had drawn up
prior to his sailing, and which gave, in
the event of the loss of the testator’s
family, during the trip, the beautiful
estate on the Hudson to the wealthy
ship merchant.
The will surprised many people, but
as James Gaston possessed no other
kin, and as his entire family had been
swallowed up by the sea, no objections
were made, and the property passed
into the forger's hands.
For several years the plotting twain
had thrived on their ill-gotten gains,
and though both were crusty and
mean, nothing had occurred to make
them at variance with one another till
the loss of the will.
Living a distance from the ciiy, shut
up like a hermit with his money well
locked, Amos Gat >n had passed his
days. lie seldom walked out to breathe
the fresh air, and greet the sunbeams,
but sat at his desk, running over files
of bills which had brought him money
in by-gone years. He did not think
it strange that his son Yoel should
love money as he did, for he had in
herited the insa'iable greed from his
father. If Amos Gaston loved his son,
it was because he loved gold.
The leaves were turning to gold
when Harriet Stringate—YoeFs affi
anced btidc—fold her* father that the
wedding trosseau was finished and had
anived i 1 the house.
The old man, whose love of money
had taken possession of his heart to
the exclusion of all other passions save
one, desired to see it. The handsome
dresses were spread before his eyes
and he lifted them iu astonishment.
Such an expenditure as it had de
manded shocked his guilded heart,
and lie turned to his daughter.
‘Pretty, but cost too much money !'
he said. ‘Yoel Gaston may repudiate
you when he sees it. It speaks of un
due extravagance/
‘lie will not relinquish the bird he
has caught/ Haniet said with a smile.
There is too much mohey left in the
nest. Ikn nv Yoel Gaston.’
EAST3IAN. GEORGIA, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 24, ISTB.
And I know both of them/ said the
old man, in a tone whicn showed that
there was no love between the fami
lies.
‘And hate them ?
‘From the bottom of my heart'
Harriet was silent for a moment.
‘But that greed of gain over-rules
everything, she said at last, and firm
ly. ‘Father listen to me a moment.—
You know I can never love that cold
stein man to whom you have given
me, and I have no right to expect af
fection ii om him. I say frankly that
I do love the man whom you have driv
en from our home. With him life
would be a paradise, for love would
be there ; but with Yoel Gaston, the
money lover, the slave to pelf, life
would soon become unendurable. Much
as I love you, I have wondered why
God does not put an end to the life
that has made a deity of money. Re
consider your determination, and let
me put aside these garments; let me
wed where T will be happy/
Noel Stringate's face grew dark.
‘No!’he said sternly. ‘I have said
that you shall wed Yoel Gaston. Do
not talk to me about this matter again
until aiier the wedding/
The next moment Harriet was alone
and the rich man was walking towards
his library with a cunning expression
of countenance.
‘lt is putting Harriet to ranch trouble
and uneasiness, but she will thank rne
after all,’ he said.
He retired ‘o his library and wrote
a letter which ended as follows :
'The time is near at hand Harriet's
wedding trousseau arrived to-day. It
is quite handsome. Mr Gaston will
consider it in a monetary sense. They
do not dream of the coming storm, and
the old man has ceased to think of my
sunken ship. Be teady when I scud for
you.
Noel Sti ingate dispatched this let
ter from the house by a servant, and
then turned to a batch of private pa
pers. He was engaged when the letter
carrier returned and said :
* *The old lady was not very well,
but the girl read your letter and told
mo to say that they were ready at
any time/
Good!’ Noel Stringale exclaimed
and returned to his work.
Something was afoot, •week
was destined to see it end, for the day
after this foregoing inc’dent was the
bridal day.
The wedding was to be very private
and take place at the groom’s resi
dence at Noel Stringate's request.
‘Why couldn’t the old hater have
kept his daughter at home? He knew
•hat I would never have crossed his
threshold, and now that his plans have
succeeded he is determined to cross
mine. Ten thousand marriages would
not abate a jot of my hatred tor you,
old miser/
These words fell from the lips of
Amos Gascon when lie learned that
the wedding was to fake place under
his roof. His sou said nothing, but
proceeded with the preparations, aud
the day found them complete.
It was a beautiful autumn day, and
the minister arriving unattended, was
greeted by the Gastons. By and by
Noel Sirin'rate's carriage deposited
his family in the spacious court before
the old Knickerbocker mansion, aud
for the tirst time in all his life he cross
ed its threshold.
There a gleam in his eye that told
more than his lips had dared to reveal
to his daughter, aud it grew intense
when Yoel Ga3ton met him iu the cor
ridor.
‘Father is slightly indisposed/ said
the son. 'He is iu the dining-room,
resting. P you would like to see him
now— ’
‘I will!’ said the father of the bride,
and Yoel led the way. _
Amos Gviston was seated m the din
ing-room, and'the enemies stood face
to face.
For a moment they-glared at each
other, then met and touched hands,and
the one said:
‘Nothing can make us friends, Noel.
I say this unreservedly.’
‘Well and good/ was the reply. ‘I
would not be your friend for all your
money.’
Amos Gaston was startled by the
speaker’s look aud tone, and might
have replied if the door had not opened
suddenly and admitted two persons.
'Good !* mutfeied Noel Stringate.—
‘I knew she would come.’
A pale-faced woman, clad in deep
black, and sorrowful of countenance,
strode forward. She cai t ied a cane,
for there was a slight limp in her
gait.
Amos Gaston's eyes were invited
upon her, aud he presented a picture
of frozen horror Ilis son seeing the
awful look sprang to his side as the
visitor suddenly exclaimed;
‘You recognize me, Amos Gaston?
Sot row apd ship wreck have not de
stroyed all the traces of your brother’s
wiffi. I come for that which is Anne’s
and mine!' and she glaoced at the girl
who knelt at Harriet Stringate's feet.
•My friend, Noel Siringate, possesses
the wilhwhich you and your son forged.
Is that not eno hto convibt you ?
When you placed one of your old ships
at onr disposal, you know it was a ro
ten hrlk, built io sink. I see the brand
of guilt on your face. The ay of *
tribution has come!'
Guilty and white, Amos Gaston could
not move.
He knew tnat the woman was his
brother's wif°, and at last in the der
peraiion of the moment, he flashed tT
eyes upon Noel Stringale, and mut
tered :
'This is your work I’
‘lt is indeed ! You sank one of my
trading ships twenty years ago, and
I have l/ded my time for vengeance
Your brother’s v ile and daughter came
to my door several months ago, but 1
secreted them orn your sight. I
wanted your son to seek my child's
liand—l wanted to get him upon the
threshold of coffers, that my blow,
when it come, should crush him as
well as you. Tins is my icveuge,
Amos Gaston. My child not marry
your sou if he owned the wealth of the
Indies.
Harriet Siringate looked up into her
falker‘s face, as if she could not credit
the evidence of her senses. But Noel
was in terrible earnest.
The revengeful blow had crushed
the Gastons, and the people along the
Hudson tell to-day how the penitenti
ary severed them from their gold,
much of which was ill-gotten stolen
wealth.
The Gaston legacy reverted to its
rightful owners, and Noel Stringate
told his daughter, that he had used her
as an instrument of revenge, and smil
ingly bade her marry the young man
of heart’s choice.
Tins she did, and the old man open
ed his heart at the wedding so that the
liebuess of the least was a thing of
wonder. \one Gaston wasone of the
happy guests, and soon afterwards be
came a bride herself.
It was through Noel Stringale that
the forged will was stolen trom the
Gaston library, aud it helped to swing
doors behind father and son.
Severe Examiner—What is a moun
tain?
First Student —An elevation of
ground.
S E—Well, what do two mountain's
form?
F S—The beginning of a chain of
mountains.
S E—They don't; they form a val
ley. You can stand dow. Your ig
norauce would make an idict blush.
(To Second Student) —What is a
mountain?
S S—An elevation of ground.
S E —Well, what do two mountains
make?
S S—A valley.
S E—No they don't; the} 7 make the
beginning of a chain of mountains.
You are a g oose of the first water.
(Plucks both.)
Pine shingles dipped into boiling
lime-water will last much longer, I
have found, than when used without
this prepai ation. Dip the bundles-}
and your ioof will not be mossy or
mouldy. —Peter Smith, Alliance, 0.
The housewife who didn't put up
any preserves can’t visit a single neigh -
bor now without being asked to step
into the store-room and behold the
array of sweetness.
This is the season when the girl,
whose stern father has kicked her lov
er out-doors, packs up a few things,
writes an eight page letter to her
mother, drops a clothes-line from her
chamber window, and at midnight,
when silence reigns, raises the sash,
sees how* dark it is, and—jumps into
bed as fast as she can.
An Alban}* urchin who has no head
for figures, the other day off red one
of his school-fellows a big apple and a
jam turnover if he would do his sums
for him this term. The offer was de
clined, the bt-le man to whom it was
teudeied remarking that he had not
yet reached the hire mathematics.
The Marria e of Great Men*
Robert Bums married a farm girl,
with whom he fell in love while they
worked together in a plowed field. lie
was irregular in his life, and commit
ted the most irious mistakes in his
domestic life.
Milton ma ied the daughter of a
country squire and lived with her but
a time. He was an austere literary
recluse, while she was a rosy romp
ing country lass, who could uot endure
the restraint imposed upon her, so they
separated. Subsequently, however,
she returned, and they lived tolerably
happy.
Queen Victoria and Prince Albert
were cousins and about the only cx>
ample in the line of English monarchs
wherein the marital vows were sacred
ly observed, and siucere affection ex
isted.
Shakespeare loved and wedded a
farmer’s daughter. She was faithful
to her vows, but we could hardly say
the same of the bard himself. Like
most of the great poets he showed too
little discrimination in bestowing his
affections on the other sex.
Washington married a woman witli
two children. It is enough to say she
was worthy of him and they lived as
married people should live—in perfect
harmony with each other.
John Adams married the daughter
of a Presbyterian clergyman. Her
father objected on account of John be
ing a lawyer, lie had a bad opinion
of the morals of the piofession.
John Howard, the great philanthro
pist, married his nurse. She was al
togethsr beneath him in social life and
intellectual capacity, and, besides tins,
was fifty-two years old, while he was
but twenty-five, lie wouldn’t take
No fur an answer, so they were mar
ried and lived happily until she died,
which occurred two years afterwards.
Peter the Great of Russia married a
peasant. She made an excellent wife
and a sagacious Empress.
Humboldt married a poor girl be
cause he It ved her. Of course they
were happy.
It is not generally known that Jack
son married a lady whose husband
was still living. She was an uneduca
ted but reliable woman, and was most
devoutly attached to the old warrior
and statesman.
John 0 Calhoun mairied his cousin,
and their children, fortunately, were
neither diseased nor idiotic; but they
"lid not evince the talent of the great
State's right advocate.
About Babies.
Different countries have different
methods of dealing with their young.
The Greenland baby is dressed in furs,
and carried in a sort of pocket in the
back of the mother’s cloak.
When she is very busy and does not
want to be bothered with him, she
digs a hole in the snow and covers him
all up but his face, and leaves him
there until she is ready to take care
of him again. The Hindoo baby hangs
in a basket fiom the roof, and is taught
to smoke long before lie learns to walk.
Among the Western Indians the poor
lit tie tots are tied fast to a board and
have their heads flattened down by
means of another board fastened down
over their foreheads. In Lima the lit
tle fellow lies all day in a hammock,
swung from a tree top, like the baby
in the nursery song. In Persia he is
dressed in the most costly silks and
jewels, and his head is never uncover
ed. day or rnght, while in Yucatan a
p-'ir of sandals and a straw hat are
thought to be all the clothing he needs.
The good man slammeth the gate
and bangeth the door and maketh a
noise, for his heart is without guile
and he feareth not the giievous words
of his wife; but man shut
teth the gate softly and stealeth up
stairs in his stocking feet, and slom
bleth over the rocking-chair, and the
last condition of that man is worse
than the first.
A young fellow in San Francisco
suddenly snatched a kiss from a lady
friend, and excused himself by saying
that it was a sort of temporary insan
ity that now and then came upon him.
When he arose to take his leave the
pitying damsel said to him, ‘lf you
ever feel any more such fits come right
here, where your infirmity is known,
and we will take care of you '
Dr. Lovick Pierce is 94 years old—
sleeps well, and has not taken a drink
of water in five years.
A cold in the head is apt to leas! to
blows.
As wall papers come down m price
they go up on the walls.
—
Remember Lot's wife, and avoid
letting anything turn your head,
A short horse is soon curried, but a
mule, short nr long, will kick you into
the next county.
Some lawyers might become great
if they would be content with oue ad
mittance to the bar.
♦
The washer-woman's motto is ‘soap
on, soap ever,' but sometimes she
changes it to ‘slop on, slop over.'
♦ .
Joint debate—The one held between
the heads of the house on whether this
piece of stove-pipe will fit that.
—— • T
I he man who married an incorrigi
gible shrew declared to a friend that
he had contracted a dangerous scold.
An exchange asks: ‘What shall we
do with the girls?' Why, do the fair
thing by one of them, and give tho
other fellows a chance with the rest.
An Arkansas constable's pistol be
ing stolen, he advertises that if tho
thief would return it he would givo
him the contents, and no questions
asked.
An enterprising lowa man has nam
ed his daughters Time and Tide, so
Iney will wait for no man, and have
got a first moitgage on matrimony to
begin with.—
Is there a scientific man in the coun
try who can tell, after a sock gets a
hole in it, what becomes of the mate
rial that once took the place of tho
aperture?
A Frenchman has discovered sever
ty kinds of whale. Most of us have
known but a single whale, and can
never separate it from the old limo
seb oolmaster.
♦ ♦ .
Three daughters of a Kentuckian de
termined to be married the other day,
and iheir father refusing to approve
their resolve, they ah eloped with tho
men of their choice the same night.
Only in Kentucky do they i such
things in this wholesale manner.
In ah account of a large funeral in
Boston la ely, the writer remarked
that “reserved seats were filled bv
mourners during the rites/' Judge
of his astonishment upon reading what
the printer had transformed the sen
tence into. “Preserved meats w*ero
spilled by mourners during three
fights.”
The Virginia Cify Chronicle is led
to believe that the chronic borrowers
'are getting sharper every day. ‘Have
you change for ss?' asked one out ther .
Certainly, ’ said an innocent looking
fellow, who pulled out a handrul of
silver. ‘Thun loan me $2.00/ said the
other Without a tremor in his voice,
and he nailed the coiu right there.
A Medford individual was saunter
ing home the oilier night, near the
three church clocks of that classic vil
lage. Suddenly the £voice of time
sounded in his typanum and went on
with regular strokes until the three
clocks had followed each other in suc
cession. Bracing himself up defiantly
he ejaculated: ‘Thirty-six o’clock!
Keep on. I’ve been out l iter than
that!'
A grey hair was espied among tho
raven locks of a charming young lady.
‘Oh, pray pull it out!’ she exclaimed.
‘lf I pull it out, ten more will come to
the funeral,' replied the one who made
the unwelcome discovery. ‘Pluck it
out, nevertheless,’ said the dark-haired
damsel; ‘it's no consequence how mar
ny come to the funeral, provided th r
all come in black.'
NO. 43.