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igCEI-LANY*
[l iTi:iiAnl KFLOliT
lAre you satisfied, my daugb
‘“•More Umn sotisfie,!, p,.p a ’
jt all J°i> r f* nc J P al 1 ,t!
ar.ytl.in,; X ever dream
. 7 indeed I never imagined
that w° shouhl have such a beauti
my clear, I hope that
nl . , vl u bo inclmed to favor my
SI in return for What I have
to please you. 1 have
li no expense in tiying to make
vonr home cverytlrng that the
* mo ßt fastidious taste could de
mand, and I trust that you will
not refuse some confession to my
_whims, perhaps you will call
| them- , .
‘Wliat is it you desire papa.
‘Nellie. I have given you cver Y
(iJ vantage in regard to education
__[ ia va tried to make you a culti
,atari and accomplished woman—
ftDd now I do not want to see yon
throw yourself away upon any one
who cannot appreciate you. In
I fi i m ple words, I want a clever son
in-law —a man able to write a good
essay, or po'm, or paint a picture
worthy of notice and admiration.
\But, papa, I lovo Charley, and
lie loves me.’
"i'os, my child, I suppose so; but
job are both very young, and
lnvß seen little of the woiid. tie
did very well when we were plain,
simple people, living in tiio conn
try-; but now it is cpiite a differ
ent tiling, We live in another
world altogether I do not de
nnsiid money with your future bus
bind—l have enough for all con
corned—but talent Ido require.
‘Ub, papa, I cannot give up
Cmrley! Where shall I find ar
other like him!—so good, and kind
and ddvoted?’
‘Thousands of them, my dear—
tlumsauds of them. Ho may nut
prove any better husband for bt
iag so devoted now. Matrimony
is the thing that tries men’s souls
—and coustancv.’
‘I do not believe that Charley
will deceive me—ami lie loved rue
too before vre were rich. We
never shall know’, when a new lov
er comes, whether it is myself or
my money he cares for.’
‘Oh, well, my dear, yonng men
are not all mercenary’. There are
plenty of fine, young fellows,
ready to love you for your own
sweet self.’
‘Perhaps Charley cau write!’
mused Nellie.
‘He never has tried, I know,
and he may he a great genius with
out suspecting it. lam sure that
ho is clover enough to do almost
anything.’
Geniuses do net live to he twen
ty-five years old without suspect
ing their own powers. Tho troub
la is generally that they are too
to suspect them. But 1
promise you this, my daughter: If
Charley can paint a good picture
or furnish a successful article for
the paper, 1 will consent to tho
match.’
- Gh. Charlov,’ the young girl
said to her lover that night, ‘can’t
yon paint a picture?’
‘Paint a picture, iVell! Are you
crazy?’
No, dear—but papa is—or else
he lias got a new hobby, which
comes to nearly the same thing.
I suppose he is aesthetic, and I
thiuk it is just awful. But now.
t ' oar > t yon think that yon
C3U II paint something?’
Nellie, why don’t you ask me
1 } caa like a bat, or a wing
squirrel?’
Cut every one paints now.’
‘lndeed! How do they do it?’
-They just buy paints, and brush
f"’ P a lettc, and take one or
"° ess °im, and then they are
Cdy to exhibit their plates, tiles,
" 1 1 so on - It is just as easy! You
Can paint anything you choose-
Weekly Gwinnett Herald.
u
TYLKIt M. PEEPLES,)
Editor and Pkopriktor. f
birds, fishes, cranes—on one leg
or two, just as you please—or lit
tie, uncertain landscapes. Every
body does it—children, grown
people, and grandmammas. And
they all do it alike, pretty inucli
for I can sco scarcely any differ
ence in their little, dauby things.’
‘There is no nso talking about
it‘ Nell. I could not paint one of
your little, dauby things if I took
lessons six years.’
- ‘Then you must write some
thing. I know by your forehead
that you havo latent talent, which
only needs development.’
‘My dear TV©ll, all tho develop
moot in tho world would rever
biing out any talent in my ease.
I hope that j have good, common
sense—but cleverness don’t run in
Barrett family.’
‘But, Charley, you must either
paint a picture or write a talented
article!’
‘My darling, I am afraid that
you arc touched here—just a little
yon know;’ anil he laid his linger
on her cold white forehead with
an air of such deep concern that
slid burst into a fit of laughter, >n
which he quickly joined. As soon
as she conld speak, she- told him
what her fal her required, and was
surprised to see how grave he took
it.
‘Why, how serious you do look,
she exclaimed.
Tt is a pretty serious affair, I
should think P lie replied, ‘To
lose you— ’
‘But you are not going to lose
ms. l T ou will write an article
the paper—a successful one, too.’
‘Nellie, I tell you again, dear,
that have no literary talent what
ever. It has been pretty hard
sometimes even to write letters to
you, whom I love better than all
the world. How then could I
write a successful story.
‘Couldn’t you write a pretty po
cm then 1’
‘Horrible! Ask me something
reasonable—to swim a thousand
miles, or kill half a dozen tigers—
but write a poem! Good heavens,
Nell, it’s enough to make a fellow
commit suicide! I could not make
a rhyme to save my life—or even
your life, darling.’
‘Now it cannot be so very hard!
A little poem upon spring, for in
stance, to begin with. Something
about budding leaves, and per
fumes of the sod, and young
men’s hopes, and aching voids,
and all that sort of thing.’
‘lt gives me an aching void to
think of it. And the rhymes! OL,
Nell, the rhymes!’
‘Take a dictionary—some poets
do that. Find a number of ap
propriate words to rhyme in pairs,
put; them down ou paper, and
then write to them.’
‘But where does the sentiment
come in V
‘Oh, that must work in of it'
self.’
‘lt is a hopeless case, darling. I
am very sorry that I am not a go
niu3—but nature did not make me
one, you know. And a poem ? Oh.
it’s fearful!’
‘A story, then, Charley —you
surely could write a story?’
‘Stories must have plots, Nell,
and plots do require some imagi
nation.’
‘But can't you tell something
that has happened to your friends?
Truth is stronger than fiction you
know.’
■Farmers’ boys are not apt to
have many advent es, Nell. My
friends in the country did noth
ing more romantic than digging
turnips and potatoes.’
•But did you never have any
thrilling experiences yourself,
Charley V
‘This is the most thrilling expe
rience of my life, and I hope that
it will be the last one of that na
ture.’
•Perhaps you had better try an
essay.’
Lawrenceville, da. Wednesday June 20, 1883
«
‘Jerusalem!’
‘Charles Barrett, if you get so
near to swearing ai that, I shall
leave the room !’
‘Forgive me Nell; but will you
tell me wliat subject you would
suggest for that—that—essay V
‘Something metaphysical of
course—‘Persistence of Force,'
‘Relativity of Knowledge,’—some
thing profound, you see. I al
ways did think you had a kind of
metaphysical look about your
forehead.’
‘Will you tell me what kind of
a look that is ? lie asked, going
to the glass and examining his
face with a somewhat anxious ex
pression.
‘Well,’ answered Nell, ‘it is a
sort of misty— ’
‘Oh, no, dear—not so bad as
that, I hope!’
‘Well, I wish you would not
take me up so quickly!’
‘Oh, Nellie, I am an idiot—that
is the truth—but it cannot be
helped-’
Tt must be helped, or we shall
be separated forever,’
‘Let’s run away and get mar
ried !’
‘No, I cannot do that—papa has
been to good and kind. It would
break Lis heart. I could not be
so ungrateful, after all that he has
done to make mo happy. Char
ley, you will have to write a story
because that will bo the easiest.
Go home now, and think harder
than you ever did before, and the
ideas must come. Remember our
happiness is at stake.’
Poor Charley wont home in
a desperate state of mind. Af
ter he had reached his room, he
locked bis door, took o.T liis coat,
that he might breathe more free
ly, lighted his meershaurn, placfid
a sheet of clean, white paper be
fore him, sharpened his pencil to
the finest point, and then knocked
his head violently in hopes that
wit would come. After looking
at the paper wistfully for about
ten minute*, a brilliant idea al
most took his breath away, and he
w.iote quickly, for feay it might es
cape as suddenly as it came.
‘There was once a young and
very beautiful girl.’
But after writing that he stop
ped short, and again waited pa
tiently for further inspiration. It
did not come ; and, throwing down
his pen in disgust, he cried:
‘The old man is crazy, and I am
an idiot: I’ll go to bed!’ which lie
accordingly did ; and in a few min
utes was sound asleep, his literary
efforts having exhausted him com
pletely.
In the morning ho woke up
with that uncomfortable feeling
we have at times of something
very disagreeable awaiting us;
and after a few moments he
sprang from the bed, exclaim-
ing:
‘lt is that confounded story! I
wonder if I can do anything this
morning.’
Dressing himself quickly, he
again seated himself resignedly ;
and after looking at the paper a
short time, he went to work, and
wrote one whole page.
He was triumphant, and began
to think that he might have mis
taken his own powers after all.
‘l’ll take it to Nell after break
fast,’ he said, ‘and let her read it.
It is not such a bad beginning, I
am sure."
So with a more hopeful counte
nance, lie ate his breakfast, and
then started off to show his first
effort to Nellie. Her face beamed
as she took the paper; but after
reading a few words, she looked
up inquiringly.
‘Eyes as blue as spring, Char
ley? What special part of spring
did you mean, dear ?’
‘Skies, of course. You didn’t
suppose I meant grass and leaves,
did you ? I hate green eyes!’
•Then let me put in skies. Her
luxuriant yellow hair hung in
heavy masses (low'll to her heels!
Goodness! you wouhjlu’l have her
going round the struct.-; with her
hair hanging down k> her heels '
How she would loom
Tt will do splendid! And see
here, Nell, if you’re going to crifei
ciso ma in th it way* it’s a httle
too much. I don’t , believe yon
conld do any batter Jour self.’
‘Perhaps not; b:;t « should know
enough of ordinary propriety not
to let a young woman go march
ing round the city \v*th her sandy
hair dangling down to her heel-.
T did not say anything about
her inarching through tho eily.
And I tell yon now that 111 not try
to write if you make/iin of me in
that way. Sitting up half the
night to write a story, just because
your father is such au old— ’
‘Stop, Charles Barnett, right off!
I’ll not hare my deat; good father
abused; and if you're so awfully
stupid that you cannot even
write— ’
‘Yes, yos—now abuse mo, be
cause I'm not another Bui wot
or Dickens! I’ll go home, and you
may find another, and more clev
er •’
lie bad almost reached the door
when Nellie sprang after him, and
throwing her arms around bis
neck, begged bis forgiveness in a
way that would havo melted the
heart of Diogenes himself.
Of course Charles capitulated
immediately; and a little • osculato
ry perfonnance was gone through
with, which seemed to bo wonder
fully soothing to both parties.
Then they went back to the
story, and N llie continued:
‘She was called Violetta, be
cause her eyes were like the sum
inei“violels.’ But, (flmrloy. dear,
aren't we mixing up the seasons a
little? Just now you said her eyes
were like spring.’
‘Well, erase it, if you choose—
only there'll bo another space to
till up.’
‘Say that they called her Violet
ta, because her eyes were so blqe.
That will take up nearly as much
room. ‘She was gentle, louder,
docile and submissive.’ Now,
Charley, you need not imagine
that I an going to be so terribly
sumissive. I have a mind of my
own.’ .
‘But I was not thinking of you.’
‘Who were ycu thinking of then,
1 should like to know?’
‘Violetta, of course.’
‘Oh, yes. 1 suppose heroines
must he docile and submissive, mi
less they are regular shrews. But
I do like to see women with a lit
tle spirit. ‘She wore a simple
white muslin (that everlasting
white musliu! she thought) with
rose-buds fastened in her hair.’
But you know she could not fasten
flowers in her hair, unless it was
braided, or tied up in tuino way!
Braid it up; won’t you, Charley?’
‘Now, my dear, if you are going
to alter everything just as fast as ;
I write it, I may aa well stop
where lam.’
At this Nellio finished the
page without making further sug,
geshons; hut when he had given j
her his twentieth cood-bye kists
sho looked up in his face, and
whispered coaxingly:
‘Braid up Violetta’s hair; won’t
you. dear?’
‘Confound the girl’s hair! Do it
any way you pmase. Braid it,
hang it, dye it—do what you
choose—only don’t lot us have
any more quarrels.’
And as Nellie went to her room
afterwards, she laughed to herself
as she repeated:
‘Hair hanging down to her heels.
How she would look! /1 is just
like a man. It makes me think
of the shavings I used to fasten
on my head when I was a little
girl. Poor Charley! it is hard for
him; but he will do it, l know.’
And indeed it was hard for the
poor fel’ow. llj never worked so
indefatigably in all his life. He
absolutely grow thin over that ar
tide. But he finished it at last.
It certainly was a very remarkable
story. Tho plot was not quite
equal to the ceteils. The expen
sivo and elaborate toilottsin wlreli
Violetta indulged, would have ru
ined-a first-class actress; and tho
minuteness with which each sash,
ribbon ami button was described
might havo immoralizod some dis
! oiplino of Worth himsolf; but, as
j lie said, it helped to fill up tho pa
gos, which of course was the main
thing.
‘You are not going to kill Vio
letta. are yon, Charley?’ Nellie in
qtilred, one day, with evident con -
cern. "
‘Kill her?’ lie repeated savagely;
‘indeed I do inland it! I slioul 1
like to stab hoi—-poison her—tor
tare her in tho most horrible man
ner—in return for all the misery
she lcis occasioned mo.
‘Oh, I would not kill her! Peo
ple always like to ha*o stories end
well.’
‘Nellie, I must have my own
way in this—for it will he tho on
ly satisfaction that I can have in
tho whole thing! And ; t must be
no easy death either! 1 read once
of a woman who was walled up to
her throat, and then left to perish,
if 1 could think of something
equally as horrible I should begin
to consider myself quite a gcuius.'
And lie did kill Violetta, sure
enough; but lie compromised with
Nellie, ana allowod her to die ron
poctabiy and comfortably in her
bed, with her disconsolate friends
weeping in a circle around her.
When it was all finished, ho lit
orally danced for joy.
Then he took j.t to his lovely
critic, wh* copied it very neatly
and eligibly, making some discreet
alteratians, especially in regard
to the stupendous toilettes, us she
termed them.
‘Now, Charley,’ she said, ‘it it
very nice, and will ho a success, I
am sure. Where do you intend
to take it?'
‘/shall take it to Rob Hunter,
who has charge of the story de
partment of his paper; and he will
accept it, I think. If ho demurs
at all, I shall offer him lifty dollars
to publish it.’
‘But isn’t that rather an unusu
al proceeding, Charley*’
‘Well, this is an unusual sto
ry, you know, and wo cannot ex
pect to make our arrangements in
the ordinary way entirely.
However, the desired object
was accomplished; and then Nel
lie went to a friend, in another
editorial office, and askod her to
copy the sketch, and to try t r get'
it copied by some other paper
also. •
‘But Nellie,’said the liidy, ‘this
is not a striking effort. Did one
of your friends write it?’
‘Yes,’ sho answered, with a
blush ; and then she told the c'J
stances, fully and frankly.
‘Well, 1 will copy it,’ was the
good natured reply ; ‘but, if I wore
you, I would advise Mr Barrett
not to write anything more of tb e
kind.’
‘No fear of that,’ she answered,
with a tnerry laugh.
The story being copied into the
two papers, Nellie took them all
to her father, who examined them
very carefully, but with a some
what dubious expression upon
Ins face.
‘Yes, daughter,’ he said ‘this
seems to b? a very successful sto -
ry ; but if I were Charley I would
not try another, because le might
not be as successful a second
time.
lie always felt that lie had been
slightly imposed upon ; Imt when
he saw what a good, kind bus land
Charley was and how happy ho
made Nellie, (lie old gentleman
gradually became reconciled.
j Vol. XIII.—No. :a
And when bis litUo grandchild,
at tho early age of five years, abso
lately composed five linos of poe
try, lie was convinced that a geni
us had at last boon boin to them,
and his happiness knew no bounds,
AX C IK.XT MOUXDS IX
FLO HII) A.
Earth mounds me common near
the river banks all ’along this part
of tho const. The most remark i
bio work of this • kind is on the
sout h bank of Spruce Creek—an
estuary of the Halifax.
Its lis sc has a diameter of 1(H)
foot, and it altni"s 11 in height
of fifty fret, with steep sides, ex
eept on the ear t, which is inclined
nppenrantly, for area 'way. Exca
vations near by reveal the sources
of supply for the material in the
construction of this mound. in
these artificial hills have been found
speoimons of pottery, i t me pipes,
rude vessels f rdunnstie use, char
coal, skeletons, and ornaments.
Tho mounds nro evidently the
work of the name people who eon
slructed the military fortifications
or canal beds, near Lake Okeecho
bee. There is nothing to indicate
tiieage of the shi ll mounds on
Spruce Creek—no timber growths
of Miiliiimuo rixo to redfml tho pan
sago of tho centuries. Bat on the
L ike earth works th* case is differ
ent. On the crests of these nrtifi
eia! upheavals the live oak is grow
ingin luxuriance. M-'hile the age
of the largest specimens of these
trees cannot be accurately deter
mined it is safe to say they are
from 700 to 1000 years old
And they Imre germination and
continuous life since the earth was
disturbed by the hand of man.
America is called tho new world
and Florida is the newest part of
it, for the polyp has not yet coasod
his work of creation here. Ami
yet it is of suoli great age that
many of the important events
of tho old worlds history are* re
cent when compared with what we
know lias happened in the new.
A BAREFOO IKl) UROOM.
About twonty vears ago a young
fellow named Johnson, in the
wilds of the Cheat Mountains in
West Virginia, made up his mind
to ho married.
‘But yon have not a penny,’ re
monstrated hits friends.
T have my hands. A man was
given hands—one to scratch for
himself, the other for his w ; fe," he
said.
On tho day of tlio wedding,
•/uliuson appeared in a whole coat
and trowsers, hut barefooted
‘This is hardly decent,’ said the
clergyman. ‘I will lend you pail
of shoes ’ ,
‘No,’ said Johnson, ‘when I can
hay shoes I will wear them—not
before.’
And ho stood up to be married
without any thought of his foot.
The same sturdy conduct show
ed itself in his future course.
What he had not money to pay
for, ho did without, lie hired him
seif to a farmer for a year’s work.
With the mostly ho B ,v;td he
bought a couple of acres of tirn
her land ami a pair of sheep, built
himself a hut, and went to work
on his ground.
His shee p increased. As time
.flew by ho bought more; then lie
sit off the cheaper kinds, and in
vested in Southdown and French
Merino, ills neighbors tried by
turns raising cattle, horses, or
gave their attention to truck farm
ing.
J -lmson, b v’eg once found
that sheep raising in his district
brought a hanujoina protit, stuck
to it. Ho had that shrewdness in
seeing the In :,t way, and that dog
ged persistence in following it,
which are the surest elements of
success.
Stuck buyers frcni tho Eastern
markels found that Johnson’s tleoe
os were the finest and his mutton
tho sweetest on the Cheat. Ho
never allowed their reputation to
fail—the end of which course is,
tiicman who marrjed bare footed
is now worth a luge property.
The story is an absolutely true
one, and may point a moral for
tho hordes of stout, able bodied
men who crowd the cities com
plaining that they must starve for
want of work.
According to the Cincinnati En
qitirer a tramp infused io saw
word for his dinner, giving us a
reason that he was bitterly oppos
I ed to the destruction of our for
| ests and would do nothing to en
courage that kind of business
And lo walked est picking hi»
. teeth-
—AS—
AnA rl rrvf is i n,j 3ltdi it m
Ike lIhRALD is uneijvaled by
reason of its extensive circulation ai d
rrmoi Iwlt/if low rates. Business men
should remember this.
BLANKS! BLANKS! ELANKS
(am* kinds NKaTI.T jraiXTKD)
FOR SALE AT THE
///;/.* tßn jon oFt'irf
now TO LO IT.
u 0 nro frequently asked regard
ng tho lest manner• if drop
ping money into the contribution
box at church, and after carr.fnlly
euu.aidering tho subject we suggest
the following rules:
f irst,, if you feel particularly
mean, an 1 have only a penny to
bestow, you i hold it well cov
ered in your hand, and when the
b v is tinder your mmo you must,
with u quick, nervous motion, let
your mite fall ho that it shall es
cape observation j second, if you
have a qunitur, or any other silver
coin of considerable size to yon,
you must liokl it in plain sight bo
tween your thumb ami four linger,
and when you deposit it you must
b-t it drop from a comparatively
I -fly elevation, ho that it may
mako a musical jingle when it,
reaches its destination ; thirdly, if
yon contemplate offering a bill you
must not take the money out cf
your vest pocket until the Imppy
time comes when your neighbor
can best see your unparalleled gen
erosity. Tim moment t,ho collict
or appears at the pew door is the
ono when yon must fumble for
your tuouay, and ihen, Laying me
thodienUy unfolded the bill, and
put on your o\ o glu ,ses to ascer
tain its denomination, you mint
slowly place it oil tho top of the
box. These three rules, we be
lieve-, wili be sufficient for all or
dinary purposes.
DOXT RE AFRAID OF WORK
Don t bo afraid of killing your
self with overwork, son, is the fa
cotious way tho Burlington Hawk
eye has of counseling young men
to thrift. Men seldom work so
hard as that on tho Bunny side of
thirty. They die ; but it is be
cause they quit work at G p. in.
and don’t get homo until “ a. m.
It’s the intervals that kill, my son.
The work gives yon an appetite
for your meals ; it lords solidity
to your slumhtr; it gives you a
hot appreciation of a holiday.
There tiro young men who do not
work, rny son—young men wl-o
make a living by sucking tho end
of u cane and who can tie a necktie
in eleven different knots, and ties
er lay a wrinkle in it; who can
spend mors money in a day than
you can earn in a month, eon ; and
who will go to the sheriff’s to buy
a postal card, and apply at the of
lice of the street commissioner for
a marriage license. So find out
what you want to bound do, son,
and take off your coat and make
success in the world. The busier
you are, the less evil you will b«
apt, to gec into, (he sweeter will he
your sleep, the brighter and liappi
or vour holiday, and the belter sot
isfled will the world bo \vi:h yon.
Even Socrates, r.avs the Satur
day Review, could make no bond
against an opponent who argund
'that if a d>g was yours and was
ilso a father, then the dog was
your father.’
Mrs Burtingt'ju may tako aback
scat. A Georg!", farmer recently
announced that lie was about ta
bn.ld a “condition” to his hou o
for a “conception room’' wherein
to entertain his guests in a “hus
tde m inner.
Congressman Fowler, of New
Y irk, has 1-e‘urned to the Treas
ury si.iS.oO of ids salary to cover
the time when he was absent from
duty. Would it bo out of place
to remark that the time the coun
try c n lo it afford to pay for is
tho time when Congressmen are
absent.
At the case: ‘Waiter, takeaway
h s soup; it sasc-1 les ice. "Oh,
you must be mistaken sir! I tasted
it as I was bringing if, and it’s
uiceand hot,sir ' Tasted it!’ ‘Oh
no, sirl ling pardon,sir Iwoaldnt
think of d >ingM«clj a thing, sir!
1 only put my linger into it, sii!’
People often wonder why coun
try editors always wear a belt to
Ldd up their pints, instevd of
wearing suspenders. It’s Iho
most simple thing in tho world.
When an editor gets word from
his house that there’s nothing on
hand for dinner ho simply tight
oils up his belt one hole and says
nothing.
A rooster owned by a Virginia
f irmer li is gone off to live wit i a
flock of wild turkeys. Every
morning at day break ho crows,
and the larrncr, who knows where
Ins rooster is, i-■ Bins enabled to
go out. and kill u wild turkey every
day. Such an üburnt of hospital
ity is wor.-e Ih.ai human bunkv*
stcerers.
*