Newspaper Page Text
Harold White's Enemy.
BY MARHDALE.
The three magistrates had sat uninterrupted
ly far into the antnmn afternoon, and had now
retired to consider their decision. It was a dis
tressing case and occurring in Singlebridge,
which is a mere handful of a town, provoked in
tense interest among the inhabitants. Every
body knew the parties concerned. Silas West
brook, the reluctant prosecutor, was senior part
ner in an impressively solid firm which had
flourished in the borough for generations. He
enjoyed a reputation for strict probity and broad
benevolence, which was singularly merited. His
son, Augustus (also of the firm") a witness for
the prosecution, was held in much esteem by T
certain of the younger sort in Singlebridge, who
sympathized with bis amiable wildness; and if
certain ot the older sort looked askance at tlit-se,
why, that was tne only natural. About Mr.
Blanchard,another witness lor the prosecution,
little was known to the inquiring gossips. He
had been a resident with the Westbrooks for
about fight months, during which period he had
sat alongside Gus in thecflice in business hours,
and had been a good deal about with him at oth
er times. They got on amazingly well together,
people observed ; but despite all his t florts—and
some of these were marked enough—suave Mr.
Blanchard failed to similarly captivate Gus’pret
ty sister Fanny. As became her father's daugh
ter, she treated the West ludian connection of
her father's firm with unerring graciousness.
But her sweetest moods, her tenderest looks and
gentlest tones were Dot for him. The magician
at whose bidding they so gladly came was Blan
chard's instinctive foe. From the moment Har
old White, con Aden lial clerk to the firm, and a
potential partner therein, met ami simply shook
hands with the West Indian, they hated each
other with a haired that owed its sustenance od
the one side to contempt, and on the other to
malice and all nncharitableness. To-day will
behold the trium ph or discomfiture of Blanchard.
In the Police Court of Singlebndge, in the pres
ence of a crowd of people, the majority of whom
are personally known to him, Harold White
stands accused on the united testimony ct the
Westbrooks, father and eon, of embezzlement.
To the prolound chagrin of the magistrates’
clerk, who, cordially disliking Blanchard, wish
es well to the accused, the latter conducts his
own defence.
‘Silence in the Court.’
Of the four actors in the little drama, old Mr.
Westbrook betrays the most agitation as the
opening of a door at the back of the Court, her
alds the letnrn of the magistrates to their seats
on the bench. The silt nee is oppressive, when
in a voice lull of feeling, the chairman turns to
the accused and says:
‘Harold White. 1, who have known you for so
many years, need not say that the long exami
nation which my brother magistrates and myself
Lave this day conducted to the very best ol our
ability, has betn to all of us fraught with con
siderable pain. And we are bound to admit, in
your bebalt, that nothing has transpired in the
course of this hearing which reflects in the least
on your conduct during the period to which I
refer. We Lave given due consideration to this
fact in your favor, and have come to the conclu
sion, actuated by motives which w r e earnestly
hope you will live to appreciate in a proper spir
it, to dismiss this case. You may go.’
•But my character,’ exclaimed White,in avoiee
husky with emotion. ‘Who is to clear that of
taint 5"
‘Yourself,’ solemnly answered the chairman.
‘Call the next case.’
D. zed, tumbling under the influence of war
ring passions, he left the dock and passed cut
of the court into the sunlit street. Whither
ahouiu he direct Lis feet? As he slowly and
mechanically, seeing nothing, hearing nothing,
with bowed head and leaden gait, stole along in
the direction of the river-side, he felt a touch on
Lis aim. He paused.
It was one of Mr. Westbrook’s clerks. The
lad’s mouth was tremulous with sympathy.
‘Mr. Westbrook has sent me with this note,
Mr. White. Is there any answer?’
■Y'es,’ he replied, tearing the paper into atoms,
‘there is. Mr. Westbrook wishes to see me. Tell
him we shall not meet again until he is pre
pared to stand up in that Court House and pray
to be allowed to proclaim my innocence in tones
as loud as those which housed to-day in declar
ing my guilt.’
The lad left him. The September sun was
setting redly behind a familiar belt of woods
which tringed the lurther bank of the river as
he continued his moody walk. He had held on
for milts heedless cf the direction he took and
now he awoke lrcm his fit of passionate bitter-
mss to find himself on aspot that had often been
hallowed by the presence of the girl he loved.
What did she think of him ?’
•Harry!’
‘Fanny!’
In those two words all was expressed. In that
fierce embiace doubt was slain.
O, Harold, I have followed you for hours fear
ing to speak, you looked so pale and changed!
‘I sm changed. They have notsent me to pri
son, Fan, but the prison taint is on me. Why
don’t jou shrink lrom the moral leper, as the
rest ot them have done?’
‘Because’—and it seemed to him as though her
voice had never thrilled with such sweetness be
fore— ‘I know you.’
‘And you believe—’
‘That all will be right yet. I can wait, dear—
if yen will let me. You were never more pre-
cions to me than you are at this moment.’
‘Miss Westbrook—come, Fanny, this is no
place for you.’
Harold and she had not heard the footsteps.
It was Blanchard and her brother, who had ap
proached unnoticed.
‘And no place lor you either,’ said White to
Blanchard.
‘Faugh!’ replied that worthy. ‘I have no words
to wabte on such as you, sir. I am here to per
form a duty.’
‘Scoundrel!’Harold began, at the same time
raising Lis hand. She touched him, and he was
still.’
‘Sir,’ she said, ‘I am mistress of my own act
ions. It I choose to accompany my brother it
is because 1 choose! Harold, good-bye! Come
what may my iaiih will not falter, my love nev
er change.’
The last four words were murmured. As she
shaped them she reached forward and kissed
him before her brother, w hose surprise at her
defiant attitude was unspeakable.
They parted and went their several ways.
The charge against Harold White ol embez
zlement, and the result ol it, produced a won
der that lasted much longer than the proverbial
nine days. His departure the day after the hear
ing, no one knew whither, had the (fleet of in
creasing the du inter and sympathy of his friends.
It was generally admitted that his defence had
teen weak— incomprehensibly weak. But who
knew ? He migLt Lave had his own invincible
reasor s for not making it stronger. Why had
the brother of his iffiaDced (for she was his affi
anced in all but an open and formal declaration
of the fact) broken with him so suddenly ? Un
til Blanchard appeared upon the sceDe they were
inseparable. Depend upon it, the West Indian
was at (he bottom of it. In this fashion the gos
sips ct Singlebndge discussed the events which
had led to Harold White’s downfall and depart
ure.
Three months had elapsed aDd not a word had
been heard of or from Harold White; unlesp.the
female gossips suggested, he had written to Miss
Westbrook, which considering his departure,
he was hardly likely to have done. For once,
however, they were out in their calculations.
He had written her a letter in which these words
occurred:
•If I thought,darling, that yon would be happi
er to be rid of me for good and all, our bond
should be dissolved. It is your love for and
simple faith in me that sweetens my life and
keeps me steadfast in my determination to undo
the miserable wrong from which I suffer. They
shall right me yet.
‘I have borrowed, for the present, another
name—my mother's before her marriage; but
the people with whom I am,know that I am Har
old White, and are acquainted with my history.
I must try, dear, to mb on without the consola
tion which yonr letters would bestow. It is bet
ter that we should seem to have parted forever.
In the good time we shall meet—and then!'
It puzzled the well-informed Singlebridge to
hear Fanny Westbrook’s cheerful words, to note
her placid brow and bright manner. She never
could have thought much of that Harold White,
you know, or she would have manifested some
regret at his misfortunes,
Blanchard, too, was mystified by her. What
did it portend ? Had she resigned all hopes of
being restored to the lover whom ho had so ef
fectually helped to disgrace and banish? Was
the course clear at last? He would see. His
impetuous love of the sunny-haired,Saxon-eyed
girl, a love which sprang into existence the mo
ment they met, had grown mightily since the
going of White. He would put an end to this
j uncertainty. He would face bis fate.
‘An interview with me?’ replied Fanny to his
blan ily proffered request; ‘certainly Mr. Blan
chard.’ Her tone was provokiDgly even.
•And if yon please, let it take place now. Pray
be seated.’
If she had only been embarressed.
•Miss Westbrook, I —I—fear that the impres
sion which I made upon yon the day of that un
fortunate rencounter by the river-side was not fa
vorable. I—-’
‘Pray proceed, sir,’ she remarked in icy tones.
•Well, then—allow me—you cannot surely
have remained firm in the resolution you then
expressed—to cleave to—’
•Mr. Blanchard, 1 will assist you. You ap-
peareutly wish to say that I must have ceased to
love Harold White. Is that it ?'
•Miss Westbrook—Fanny—pardon me;I do.
He is all unworthy of you. Oh, if you did but
know the dentil of my love for you!’
‘Stop Mr. Blanchard,’ said she, rising from
her chair, and moving slowly toward the door.
Let us understand each other. Whether or not
Harold White holds the place in my heart which
he once did, concerns me and me only. The
honor you have done me, Mr. Blanchard—call
it by what tender name you please -I despise.
Mr. Blanchard I know you.’
‘Stop, Miss Westbrook!’ he exclaimed, mak
ing one step forward and barring her way in the
door, ‘and harken to me. You have thrown the
gague. Very well,I accept it. It was I who drove
Harold White from Singlebridge. Ah, you can j
be impressed, I see. It is I who can compel I
your consent to my demands. Now, Miss West-1
brook, know me!’
Her face was very white as she swept proudly j
past the West Indian, but it was not the white- j
ness of fear. They measured swords with their i
eyea-how clear and searching hers were!—and j
parted.
Next day Fanny Westbrook was missing from
Singlebriege.
For twelve months Silas Westbrook has been
daughterless. Fanny was sought for far and
near, hut without avail. Augustus had, to quote
the idiomatic expression of that congenial com
panion already referred to, ‘gone clear to the
bad.’ Of all his former chums, Blanchard was
ehe sole possessor of a knowledge of the young
tcrapeglace's where-abouis. As itr iue Vesi
sndian, he seemed to have entirely relinquish-
Icl all intention of returning to Jamaica. How
ever, we must for the present leave Singlebridge,
and make our w’ay to the Theatre Royal, East-
bampton. The house is crowded by admirers
of the leading lady, whose benefit night it is.
Old Fussyton, the stage doorkeeper, is at this
moment in a state of mind bordering on despair.
He dare not, for the life of him, leave his post,
and he has just learned that a stranger has suc
ceeded in reaching the stage under the cover of
an audacious super. If that should come to the
knowledge of Mr. Somerset Beauchamp, the
manager, he (Fussyton) will, to a certainty, be
dismissed on the spot.
‘Take a note to Miss Harebell, sir ? Could
not do it. It’s against orders, sir.’
The speaker is a call boy. His tempter is Mr.
Blanchard.
•Very well, sir, I’ll risk it. If yon are an old
friend, I suppose it will be all right.’
Induced to commit a breach of discipline by
the bestowal of a rather potent bribe, the call-
boy disappears behind a pile of scenery, and is
presently heard in altercation with Miss Hare
bell’s dresser.
‘What do you want? Miss Harebell is not ‘a
beginner.’ She is not until the second scene.
‘I know that, Mrs. Cummins. I want to speak
to you. Open the door.’
Blanchard heard no more. A whispered con
versation between the leading lady’s dresser and
she call-boy was immediately succeeded by the
reappearance of that preeoccious youth, who
aid, ‘Miss Harebell will meet you after the per
formance, at her hotel, the George. She has
private apartments there. All you have to do
is to send in yonr name. And now, sir, do
clear out of this. How you got in, I don’t know.
If Mr. Bosham was to stag you, wouldn’t there
be a shine neither.’
Meantime his note had produced a startling
effect upon Miss Harebell. It ran thus:
•At last 1 find you. In Miss Harebell, I have
recognized Fanny Westbrook. At the peril of
those nearest and dearest to you see me tq-night.
I am desperate.’
‘Cummings,’ gasped she, ‘lock that door.
You did it for the best to get rid of him. It is
always convenient to decline receiving a visitor
at one’s hotel; hut I will see him. Finish my
hair and then find Mr. Beauchamp. I would
speak with him before I go on.
Blanchard had again curiously undervalued
the strength of his lovely opponent.
She saw the manager, and exchanged with
him a few whispered words. He grasped her
hand warmly by way of emphasizing his chiv-
alric intentions in her cause.
Since that day, more than twelve months pre
viously, that Miss Westbrook had merged her
indentity in that of the now talented ac
tress, Miss Harebell, Fanny had played many
parts both on and off the stage. On this par
ticular night she excelled herself. The applause
of her crowd of admirers was what would have
been termed ‘terrific.’ Such was the electric
force ol her actiDg that it carried all before it.
Was she playing up defiantly to Blanchard ?
1 "nThe conclusion of the play she, laden with
boquets, retired to her dressing-room, and in a
few minutes had resumed, with the aid of at
tentive Mrs. Cummings, the attire of ordinary
llf In the space of a few minutes Miss ‘Harebell’
was proceeding unnoticed, save by a group of
her y outhful idolators who surrounded the pit-
door, under the convoy of Mr. Beauohamp, to
her apartments at the George.
Before ascending to the staircase wnicn led to
her rooms, she informed the maid-servant that
probably a gentleman would call upon her. If
he did she was to show him up, after having
privately informed Mr. Beauchamp, who would
wait for the news in the bar-parlor, of the visi
tor's arrival.
Mr. Beauchamp, whose face beamed with
delight, nodded bis approval of this arrange
ment Observed Fanny to him:
‘Now, Mr. Beauchamp, I shall leave yon to
your devices (here she indulged in the tiniest
ripple of laughter)—your devices, mind,’
‘Very well, my dear, they shall be ready, if
wanted.’
‘And he—’
‘Everything is ready Miss Harebell, and every
body. Let that suffice you.’
Seated in her snug little room, Fanny dream
ily awaited the coming of her ancient perse
cutor. She had not to wait long.
‘Mr. Blanchard, ’m,’ announced the maid
servant, and thereupon ushered that gentleman
in.
Miss Westbrook rose and acknowledge his
elaborate bow with a silence that was full ot
scornful eloquence. She then resumed her seat.
‘Miss Westbrook, can yon divine why I am
here ? ’
Gh, you can? You are frank. After all why
why should you not be? We can spare each
other the recital of a long preface of dull retro
spection. After a long and painful search I
have found you—no matter how.’
‘I know how,’ she calmly interposed.
‘Ah, ! ’ he exclaimed, ‘perhaps you would not
mind enlightening me.’ His tones were sneer
ing. Her perfect equanimity put him out.
•Not at all. You got the information from my
brother.’
‘Even so. And—yonr brother? Has he in
formed you also that he is just as completely in
my power as was another person ot our acquain
tance more than a year since? Did he tell you
that there is in this bundle of papers that which
would give him penal servitude if I chose to put
the law in operation? Did he—’
•No, Mr. Blanchard, he did not.’ A tear had
stolen down her cheek at the mention of Har
old’s name; but now that she confronted the
Westlndian.hereyes blazing defiance upon him.
‘He did not. Remove yonr mask. I can read
the rascal underneath it. So, then, my hand
bestowed on you is to the price of yonr silence
concerning my brother's crime, if crime it be.
But you have shown your claws too soon, sir;
see that they are not clipped.’
‘And who is to clip them?’
‘I!' exclaimed a voice that came from behind
the chair near which Blanchard stood, while at
the same time his arms were seized in a grip of
iron and wrenched violently back. ‘I—Harold
White! Fan, take possession of those pa
pers.’
‘So you think to trap me, do you?’ growled
Blanchard,actually foaming with rage; ‘butyou
are mistaken.’
•Not a bit of it,’ observed obliging Mr. Beau
champ, at that moment entering by the door on
the landing. Coolly turning the key and plac
ing it in his pocket, the manager of the East-
hampton theater continued: ‘Now, look here,
Mr. Blanchard. I have stage-managed too macy
iittle things of this kind not to know what’s re
quired to strengthen the situation. I have two
of my fellows handy on the stairs. My prop
erty man is on the other side of those folding
doors. My friend here and myself reckon for
something, to say nothing of Mrs. Harold
White—’
Alts. Harold Whitt?’ gasped Blanchard.
‘Yes, Mr. Blanchard,’ releasing him and ap
proaching her, ‘my wife. She always believed
in my perfect innocence of the charge you
helped to fasten on me, and when poor misera
ble Gus confessed the part which he had played
in the conspiracy, we got married.’
‘Confessed—conspiracy!' sneeriDgly ex
claimed Blanchard; ‘whereare your proofs?’
■Here!’ replied Harold, pointing to the pa-
pers, ‘and ueio they itiaHirt until —
‘Until what.?’
‘Until the father of my dear wife has perused
them line by line, and the magistrates of Sin-
giebridge have made my innocence as public
as a year since they proclaimed my guilt.’
‘Then I may go,’ said Blanchard, after a
pause; and taking for granted the consent of his
temporary custodians he stepped towards the
door, which was under the janitorship of Mr.
Beauchamp. That gentle man gracefully
waved him back.
‘You may 7 go, on one condition, sir—pardon
me—and it is this: That you leave for Jamaica
by a certain steamer ■which leaves this port to
morrow. I have to-night bespoken your berth.
I’ardon me—if you decline, take the conse
quences, one of which will be the temporary oc
cupation by yourself of a neat and commodi
ous apartment within the precincts of Easthamp-
ton jail.’
‘Open the door.' Not another word did he
utter, but taking his hat, and looking straight
before him, he left the hotel and proceeded—
not unattended—in the direcUon of the Jamaica
boat.
It was a pleasant hour or so which Mr. and
Mrs. Harold White and their friend Beauchamp
spent together that night. It was a more than
pleasant meeting that took (dace a few days
after in Singlebridge. Silas Westbrook’s hap
piness was unspeakable. There was a streak
ot sorrow in it, though, when he thought of his
absent son, and prayed that the lad had turned
over a new leaf at the other end of the world.
Answers to Correspondents.
Last week our senior deposited a brimming
basket of letters in our sauctum, and calling at
tention thereto, said, ‘this is a part of the cor
respondence accumulated since the Department
was discontinued,’ coolly turned this column in
to our hands, hitherto rarely undertaking the
task of answering letters in the S. S. and we
regret to say too often procrastive in the matter
of replying to those of dear friends and private
correspondents. Numbers of letters in this
heaped up basket are out of date—asking ques
tions about matters that are now ‘dead issues.’
We select the latest,and promise attention to all
who may write in future, provided these ques
tions are not too many, and not so complicated
or abstruse as to require too much space in an
swering. *
Mamie, Dade county, Ala.—Nothing to inter
est yourself in—want something special by way
of an occupation—something not altogether use
less to fill up the tedium of a country life? We
don’t blame you for tiring of working book
marks and wall pockets; but have you tried the
cultivation of flowers; if not, get one of Yick’s
Catalogues and interest yourself in making your
‘country home’ a thing of beauty. Or try hor
ticulture, raise grapes and peaches and dwarf
pears or cultivate herbs for medical use. They
command a good price. For a winter diversion,
suppose you try drawing. Every lady ought to
be able to sketch from nature, at least sufficient
ly well to preserve her impressions of tine views
or striking forms. It is astonishing how the
beauty there is in form grows upon us when we
begin to observe shapes and outlines with an
eye to reproducing them. The beauty there is
in the trees—in their naked limbs and slenderer
branches and twigs outlined against a winter
sky is wonderful. Or if you do not fancy
drawing, what do you say to cooking? It is one
of the fine arts now, you know, and it is fash
ionable to know all about it. You can study the
chemistry of cooking, and experiment to your
heart’s content on the family stove. There are a
hundred and one ways to amuse yourself. You
might turn entomologist and make a collection
of bugs or butterflies and have your name in
the paper among the illustrous at your State
fair, like Miss Alice Walton of Iowa who has
collected over 1,000 butterflies.
Roxy, Marietta, Ga.—‘Don’t yon think it fus
sy and officious in a girl to be always putting
her foot down upon the occasional drinking of
young men?’ No, we don’t, we wish every one
would put her foot down with a will on the neck
of the national evil. They might crush out the
fruitful source of more than half the crime and
suffering of the world. The girls in Tuscola, Il
linois, have level heads. They put a temper
ance blue ribbon and a mitten on the table
when their lovers come to visit them and say,
‘Choose.’
H. C. T. Cnsseta Texas, Father Ryan now
lives, we believe in Mobile. His death at Chat
tanooga of Yellow Fever was lately reported, but
it whs Father Ryau ot the Nashville Diocese who
died tnere. Father Ryan the poet-priest has
lately written a very flue poem on the Terrible
Pestilence. Some of its pictures are grand in
their somber realism.
A student of Hatcher's Station has had an ar
gument about the way to parse ‘men’s shoes' in
the advertisement—‘has a large stock of men’s.'
shoes, lie thinks that mens is here used aa limit
ing adjective and his friend contends it is a noun i
in the possessive case. Grammars differ. ‘Stu
dent’s’ wa> of parsing seems to us more sensible.
Men s does not show possession in this instance,
but merely describes the kind of shoe.
Inquirer, Franklin, Tenn.—1st, Garcia was
a Spanish composer, born in Leville, died in
Paris in 1832. He was the father of the famous
Madam Malibran—the tiaest female singer who
ever iived and whose voice too early hushed in
death, yet as Foe says she could not have lived
ionger, fox she felt too intensely. In her devo
tion to tier art, ‘she tried all feelings on her
heart,’ and burned away her life. 2nd. The
Carnival is a religious festival. It is derived
from two Latin words, Carni-Yale which mean
•farewell to flesh, or meat,’ because it immedi
ately precedes the fasting days of Lent, contin
uing through the eleven days that precede Ash-
Wednesday.lt is supposed to copy the Saturnalia
of Rome. 3.1. Queen Victoria has had 9 children
all of whom are living, thanks to good inherited
cons itutions and a sensible,unfashionable ‘rais
ing.’ Their names are Albert Edward, Alexan
dra, Alice, Louis, Alfred, Helena, Louise, Ar
thur, Leopold and Beatrice.
May and Bertie—two ‘wire grass girls’ say
they are much in love with two worthy young
gentleman who pay them nice attentions but
wont pop the question. They want to know
how they can fiad out if these are in love,or on
ly amusing themselves. Their female intui
tions ought to tell them if they observe closely
and do not allow vanity or their own wishes to
blind them. Be patient and do not seem over
anxious, perhaps a littie more reserve and in
difference would have a good effect. Make your
selves loveable and leave the result to time.
Meantime put a guard on your affections and
don’t let them ‘run to waste.’ As to your sec
ond question; Is flirting more pardonable in
men or women ? we think it is n t excusable in
either six, but more detestable in men.
Alaman of Nashville asks if the little paper |
Mile noticed in the Sunny South was a myth or ;
a real mito. It is or wis a reality, but cold
weather seems to have killed it with the rest of I
the mites.
Cecile Clive of Lagrange, Ga., says she is
loved by an excellent young man whom she
loves in return— sometimes', at other times she I
feels so indifferent that she hesitates whether j
she ought to marry him: what shall she do? |
Sit down quietly and analyze her feelings. It
will nut do to marry without love, and if she
likes the young man in such an intermittent j
way she had better wait and examine her heart. !
Girls often think they are in love when they are
only flattered and warmed by the devotion of
their lovers. Then again, girls are subject to
these capricious chills—tits of sudden coldness
and apathy that pass like shadows. As Josh
Billings says: ‘Girls are curus critters.’ But
marriage is a serious thing and must be serious
ly considered before it is entered upon.
Mrs. H., Corinth, Miss.—‘There Comes a
Time’ will appear. It is good, hut we protest
against the gloom and despair that it expresses.
Life is so full of gloom, we would have pootry
catch all its brighter gleams. When we publish
a paper all our very own we mean it shall be as
sunshiny as possible. ‘Let in the light' shall
be its motto. No wonder Dr. Austin in his
‘ treatment for yellow fever ’ makes cheerful
faces in the sick room a prominent prescription.
Here’s a postal from ‘Annie’ of Jonesboro,Ga.,
which seems to refer to some decision given by
our Senior in the correspondence column ages
ago, as to whether it was correct to say ‘I feel
had.’ He decided that the expression was in
correct, and Annie takes him up neatly and
wittily. She says: ‘It seems evidently to me
that y ou decided ‘badly’ when asked which was
correct, ‘I feel bad,’ or, ‘I feel badly.’ ‘Bad’ is
not intended to qualify the verb ‘feel,’ but
by the aid of the verb describes the subject.
To convince you that I am correct, I submit
the following illustration, in addition to the ex
pression, ‘It seems evidently,’ at the beginning
of the communication:
Now do not get madly.
Nor try to led sadly—
Nor even forlorn;
But try to l>e sweetly—
Act quite discreetly
And acknowledge the corn.
Mrs. H. M. Lang, of Jasp°r, Ala., asks: Can
you explain to me the meaning of Tennyson’s
little poem, called ‘The Flower,’ beginning:
‘Once in a golden hour
I cast to earth a seed,
Up there came a [lower,
The people said a weed.’
The meaning, disguised in fable, is that the
poet may throw out a thought, whose sweetness
and beauty the ‘short-sighted people’ fail to
see. To them it seems worthless, until time or
chance opens their eyes to its worth, then it is
picked up, praised, brought forward, transplan
ted into every lady’s garden, and finally does
become as common as a weed—loses its beauty
and delicacy by use and abuse.
Ivathaleen and Maggie—are two young girls,
who although they have well-to-do fathers,
would like to make a little pin-mony for them
selves, think of trying copying and ask the rates
of pay. They will find it almost impossible to
obtain copying at any price. The rate for copy
ing State papers is ten cents per line, but of
course it is impossible to obtain this. The few
in this city who can get copying to do lrom law
yers and authors are paid by the piece.
R. Elizabeth City, N. C. What do we think
of a young man, who has monopolized your
time, enlisted your sympathy and affections,
prevented the attentions of other suitors and
encouraged the report that you are engaged to
him, yet who all the while tells you it is impos
sible for him to marry, though he says he loves
you, wishes you to promise to be his friend ex
clusively, to marry no one else and receive no
one else’s attentions and now, when he,has man
aged to connect your name intimately with
his in society, he drops away from you,
and begins paying attentions to another
girl ? Dear R. we should say he was a dishonor
able man and the sooner you drop him from
your thoughts the better for your peace.
Such butterflies often drain the sweetness of
trust and love from women’s hearts for their
own delectation and leave stings and bitterness
behind. Beware of them.
Good Handwriting Without a Teacher, What
Home Practice will Do.
GUSKELL'S COMPENDIUM!
0
WMii
Designed lor seit-instruclio i in peuman-hip lor both
gentlemen add ladies, ami all ages. Isa combination in
four parts, viz.: I. Copy sips. 2. Ornamental sheet. 3
Hook of instructions. 4. i ase. Price One Dollar,
post paid,
Among the models for practice and imitation, it gives;
BOLD BUSINESS WHITING,
consisting of movement exercises, invoices, notes, ledger
headings, model signatures, etc , etc.
LADIES 1'KNM \NSUIP,
of the most elegant description, as used in letters, notes,
invitations, cards, and albums. t
OKNAMENI’aL WORK.
for those wishing to attain to the highest possible pro
ficiency; off-hand flourishing of birds, swans, quills,
scrolls, etc., and German text, old English, aud other let
tering.
All the above arc in the form of written and other pen
exercises. They are accompanied with a small Book of
Instructions, neatly illustrated, containing full directions
for acquiring perfect comroi of the pen. and correctness
in form.
Improvement of those Using It.
No teacher cm show greater improvement in handwrit
ing from his persona! instruction extra ding over mo: tbs
of practice, than we are able to exhibit from those using
the Compendium, unaided bv anything else.
We give a few perfect fuc-similes fcotu among the many
sent ns.
Old style
New sty
Mr. M. says: " In the fall of "77 I purchased one of yonr
Oompendiums, and began to imitate yonr stylo. Your
Book of Instructions recommends the muscular move
ment. 1 had previously used 11.• ■ finger. In (> r e day X
learned the principles thoroughly; and practice since
then has developed your ideas.’’
L. Madamasz, San Antonio, Texas.
Old style:
New style
“Enclosed find two specimens, one written before and
the other after using your (\>mpra:dinm. j wisli you
would tell me what you thick of ray writing, tor one who
hu* never had any instruction, except from youri onipen-
dinm.'’ W. H. Fairchild, Newtown, Conn.
Old sty le:
New style :
Mr. Mohan writes: “1 send you a specimen of my writ-
ingbefore and after using your t'ompendium, which I
consider the best thing of the kind ever devised.”
,T. M. Meiian, Principal Ames Hign School.
P. O. address, Nevada, Iowa.
•‘Your Compendium has been a great help to me. Yoc
will find enclosed two oi my autographs; one written be
fore and the other after using it.”
A. S. Osborn, Grass Lake, Mich,
Opinions of tlie Press.
The wonderful advance made by persons using “G&s-
kell's Compendium” is a good evidence of the value of
that sy stem. Professor Gaskell is a gentleman who knows
what he attempts to teach.—Illustrated Christian Week-
, ly, New York.
” lias received the highest commendation from those who
have, by its use, perfected themselves in the art of pen-
I manship.—New York Evening Mail.
| This system seems to have won wide favor. Only fifty
thousand have been sold. -Scribner's Monthly, New York.
The art of elegant writing is here given in a nutshell-
Any young man or woman can become a handsome writer
if the directions as given are followed out.-Lowell '.Mass.)
Courier.
THIS COMBINATION COMPLETE, will be mailed
to any address, postpaid, for One Dollar,
Registered Letters aud Money Orders are perfectly
safe, and at our risk. Address
Prof. GEORGE A. GASKELL,
Professor of Bryant and Stratton College,
Manchester, Sew Hampshire,
♦Remember all letters are promptly answered. If you
do not get immediate returns, write again and we will
see where the fault lies.
j^sf"Thc Penman’s Gazette, handsomely illustrated
with fae-similes of improvement in penmanship, and por
traits of penmen, giving full particulars, sent free to all
who write for it. auglO lamfim
EXTRAORDINARY INDUCEMENTS—FAIR
WEtK-
Under the Management of
Mr. J. T. Ford, of Baltimore.
ON MONDAY EVENING, OCTOBER, 21, 1878.
THE BRILLIANT SINGING COMEDIENNE,
BLANCHE CHAPMAN-FORD.
THE POPULAR COMEDIAN,
Mi*. Greo Denham-
AND A SUPERB COMEDY COMPANY, with ihe spe
cial attraction of
Thirty Maryland Madrigal Boys!
Tun Phenomenal Singers op thkik Aos !
All of whom will appear iu a most attractive entertain
ment, embracing
Two Musical 3?lays I
WITH SEVERAL NOVEL FEATURES.
Prices SI 00 and 50 cents. Reserved seats at Phillips A
Crew’s without extra charge,