Thomasville times-enterprise and South Georgia progress. (Thomasville, Ga.) 1904-1905, April 08, 1904, Image 8

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Thomasville times-enterprise and South Georgia progress., April 08, 1904, Image 8

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Newspaper Page TextWALTER BLOOMFIELD Copntrtt 1KI br *mut tmwi Ion CHAPTER VL Continued. Luncheon over. I sought to create diversion by reminding my uncle l. his engagement to examine the Hold euhuretdeeds. Jle seemed very pleased xvlth my attention te his wishes, and nt once followed me into the library, my father end the other two guests adjourning to the draiying-Kiom. It was then I learned that uncle Sam had been to the library with my father in the morning, and had looked through some of the deeds. Ho spent the whole of the afternoon to conn pietlng his examination of them, talk ing to me on various subjects mean while, and amusing mo greatly with his blunt candor and his unsparing criticism of. village Communities England. His strictures upon the llev. Mr. Puller were no less amusing than severe, and my sides ached so much from continued laughter that was much relieved when at last ho rose, and Bald: ‘There, my boy: I have done, tee- place them carefully whero you took thorn from, until I send your father ft steel safe worthy to contain them, They are very Interesting and ought to he carefully preserved It only for their historical Interest. By-and-bye, your father told mo Just now that ho has invited yet another parson to dine hero this evening—the Vicar of Hold- enhurst Minor. You know him, of course.” I replied that I knew him very well Indeed. ”1 would rather bo at war with twenty brokers'for a year," continued tmelo Sain, “than talk with n parson lor an hour. In a small company It Is Impossible to Ignore an individual member of It, and I could never listen to anything from a parson without re plying to It—except to church; and I bavo often been tempted to do so there, I am afraid I shocked your father somewhat at luncheon; though, (loudness knows, I said nothing cither untrue or unreasonable. I speak as I think, and hope always to do bo. How ever, I Intend to bo as reserved as my nitf-uro will permit at dinner to-day," This declaration was a distinct re lief to me, though In no case should huvo much feared a mcollng biltwsctt my undo and tlic Bov. Evan nice. The Vicar, of Holdenhurst Minor -■—........ rtxa. - • - Was a youthful bachelor, nnd enjoyed «11 Income of £90 a year. Thcro helng no Vicarage in the parish, tho roverand gentleman lodged with a farmer, c two daughters mado It the chief is of their lives to please him. tho competition among tho fo- ‘“-unity of Holdenhurst Minor touts for the smiles of tho Prico Was very keen, a of affairs to which tho revor- e^n owed many substantial Probably np man In Eng- . wlth slippers " - i Price; and there his name was re- 1 to tha last will nnd testament least one, wealthy old maid. Tho -ess of his Income was balnuced i popularity, which was based 1 flno athletic appearance, his lanner, his skill as n cricketer, ! brevity of his -sormons. Ho -at many friends nnd no one. , J on loss than a hundred a contrived to live hotter than f anothor man with an Income ton i as large. a,.. CHAPTER VII. OOKSTAXOB MARSH. > visit of my undo and aunt to mhurst waa soon ended. Undo tried hard to Induce my father and me to accompany him to London ' ° f e» weeks, hut father would ~*naont to ouch an arrangement, tl farm* on the eatato bad been long time without tenant!, and a working them ourselves by of a steward. Tho drat week rll had now arrived, and my did not feel himself Justified to leaving the place. He agreed, how ever, that I ahould go to London with my undo and aunt and remain their guest for three weeks, It being further arranged that on the termination of RGBS.. , father’! place at Holdenhnrat, while my atay to town I waa to take my he. to his turn, visited bla brother, that our totereeta to Suffolk might not be left entirely to too caro of de- ” The 11 totality of undo 8am aaton* . Ishod everybody with whom ho came Into contact during his stay to Suf folk, and It would exceed the limits jwf this chapter to redte his benefac tions, but tt la essential to the purpose f these memoirs to refer to a few of i more remarkable, i addition to clearing off tho largo upon the Holdenhurst- es- i paid to the credit of my fnth- inking account no less a sum COM, “for present use," as he i advocated toe laying waste ■ farm to both toe Holden- l and converting toe entire estate i large park. “That done," said Vthe hall thoroughly repaired J r refurnished, the place will living to for six or eight l each year.” vi these p.rogosals my faaher declined to agree, whereupon undo 8am remarked that he consid ered him ft fool, but the proposal td renovate the hall waa accepted. Aby unfavorable Impression Which uncle 8am might have created on tho mind of toe Eev. Mr. Poller at their flrat meeting was speedily removed when next they met, and my uncle an nounced hla Intention, If permitted by his brother, of restoring the thurclf of Holdenhurst Major, an ancient edi- flca much decayed. The necessary permission being at once given, nnclo 8am said he would have the church examined by an ecclesiastical archi tect, and order toe restoration to to mado at once. “I don't suppose the Job will ebst more than *1000 or *1600,’• said he, whereat Mr, Puller dropped hla lower Jaw on hi* White tic, aghast at the presence of a Man who could talk bo arily of such large luma Of tooncy. - The moment of our departure having arrived our comfortable old carriage, drawn by a pair of greys, Stood ready at the door, old John—among whose duties was numbered that of a coach man—sitting on the box. As undo Sam, aunt Gertrude, my father and I passed through toe ball my unde hes itated and stopped. “Whero are the servants?" hq asked, nnd being told they were to the kitchen he desired them to be called. Our entire domes tic establishment, consisting of four women and a boy, responded to the in vitation. nastily giving two sover eigns to each of tho women and a half sovereign to the boy he stayed hot to hear their tbahu, but handed hit wife Into the carriage, tend* Bam and I followed, the driver cracked hla whip and the horses walked slowly down too path as wo w^d pur hands to outslds the my father, who house to the porch. It was some minutes before the ball was lost to our view, and to toe last moment It seemed to engage my uu- de’e attention. “There, Gertie," said he, pointing to, the old house from which we wore now rapidly receding, “to think that It waa a. mere accident woman’s feeble wUl-that saved me from spending my life to that place 1” I was surprised nnd not altogether pleased at hearing my home—where no effort bad been spared to make our guests comfortable-spoken of In this contemptuous manner, but concluded from my undo's munillcencO that be was an extraordinarily rich man, ac- euktomed to the best of everything toe World could supply, and conse quently quite out of his element to a Suffolk village. “Don't you think, Sam, the anti quated appearance of toe old hall will suffer from tho repairs you are going to maksl” asked aunt Gertrude. “Not a bit to the world. The main itructure won’t bo Interfered with.’ “I think I would prefer It as It Is, If It were mine." "All old placea have to be repaired— some of them pretty much and often," ■aid unde Bam, selecting a cigar from hla cose, "I don't doubt but Queen Altoe would have soma difficulty to recognising Windsor Castlo It that lady could come to life egato to look at It; It Is continually being patched. As for Westminster Abbey, I question If a handful of toe original atrueture remains. A small 'anuff-box would contain too duit of all the Pharaohs, Everything substantial la transient end passes away. Human nature alone Is unaltered and unalterable. Consider' that person Fuller. Two days ago he could hardly disguise hla horror of me; yet when I offered to re- store Holdenhurst Church did you no tice how hie tongue fell out of his mouth aa it he wanted to lick my boots on toe spot? I suppose the poor Chap hopes for a commission from tho contractor. Well, I’U see that he's not disappointed." “Sam, Sam, how you do talk,* said bla wife reprovingly; then turning to mo aa I sat silent with folded arms, "I am afraid, Ernest, It will take you some time to understand your uncle. He'e awfully cynical, but those* who know him best like him beat" I forget what answer I made, but certainly I was not disposed to <»n- verte much. The novel experiences of the last few days, and speculations aa to my visit to London engrossed my thoughts. Though I had more than completed nineteen years of life I had little or nothing of the world. Eleven of those years had been passed to e school at Bury St Edmund's, with toe exception of the Interval between Friday night and Monday morning each week, which was spent at home. During toe school holidays my father had been accustomed to take mo with him to the aeaalde—Lowestoft Tar- mouth, Aldborough, or some other of too summer resorts on the east coast —and occasionally to London. My ac quaintance with the world being comprised within these narrow limits, and tho present being too first occa sion on which, to the ordinary sense of tho phrase, I had left home. I waa moved to contemplation. Particularly did I regret my detective education- defective because of the Idleness of my nature and my love of reading poe try and fiction. I had bees well and careful^ taught, but .was never able to acquire more than a smattering ot Latin, Greek and French, Insufficient to enable me to read with interest book to any of those languages. Erig. lleh I had mastered flUriy well, and developed some facility to Its compo sition; white for mualc It waa acknowl edged that I had more than ordinary; ability, I was painfully conscious that my mental equipment was a very- poor one, nnd wondered whether my, unde would keep much company dur ing his stay to England, what sort of people hla friends were, and to what manner they would regard a young gentleman of such slender attainment# as mine. Both my uncle and aunt endeavored to make me talk, but they were not Very successful to their efforts, and little inore waa said before bur car riage passed rapidly through North- gate streets Bury St Edmund’s, and dashed Into the station yard there. tends Sam was toe first to alight: “See to your aunt and the luggage there, Ernest;’’ he said, and then ran bp the stairs three steps at a time. “HO is always like tote when we •tart on a Journey,”'observed aunt Gertrude, as I assisted her oat of the carriage. “We bare ten or twelve minutes to spare, and during that time he will despatch at least that number of telegrams. I bars never known him to content'himself so long without basinets fit during hik stay at your house," The luggage bad been labeled and jjut into the brake, my annt and I were comfortably eneconced to oppo site corners of toe first-dam compart ment wbleb bad been specially re served for ua, and toe train began to move out of too station before undo Sam emerged from the telegraph office. But he waa equal to the occa sion. Jumping lightly Into toe car riage he abut the door with a slam, and seated-himself as far from u> as pomlble. Begging hie wife to enter tain me aa well as she could, ho pro duced a large poeketbook and pencil, and at once became engrossed In some study, nor did he again open his lips until we reached London. The changeful weather—exhilarating sunshine alternating with gloomy cloud* from which descended heavy showers Of rain—greatly Interested my aunt, who for my edification com pared the climates of England and North America aa our train sped through tho low-lytog Essex meadows, Llko most Americana who vlalt Eng land she was uncomfortably affected by toe cbllly dampness of our climate, and visibly shivered, though she was enveloped to a thick wool rug. Though our acquaintance had been so brief, I had developed e very real regard for my youthful American aunt, whose kindly consideration and uniform gen tleness excited my* admiration. As I scrutinised her delicate features I noted their Wistful expression, and experienced a feeling aktn to frity for her—for 1 instinctively felt there could exist bo bond of sympathy between this gentle tody and her husband. No other pert of England 1s so de pressing aa the horrid region between Romford and Liverpool street through which toe Great Eastern Ballway Company conveys Its London-bound victims. Between those places tha senses of eight, hearing and smell are grossly outraged, and when tha un fortunate traveler finds himself once more ob terra firms he etaggere like one awakened from a nightmare, hla Umba stiffened by the close packing to which they have been subjected, and bis mind and stomach disgusted by the abominations he has seen and sniffed. It wee with great relief wo alighted from toe train, A splendid carriage awaited Us, Into Which we at once en tered, our luggage being piled upon a cab which was to follow. Dark clouds had gathered to all around, and tho rain descended to torrents at we drove westward out of tot city. At a few mtnutea past 5 p. m—nearly tour hours after we left Holdenhurst Hall—our carriage turned out ot toe main road Into Do Vere Gardens, Kensington, and drew up to front of my Uncle's house there. It was a large bouse, furnished as luxuriously aa possible, Illuminated throughout by electricity, though hero and there was an oil temp which shed a subdued light on too objects around. Everything to toe place seemed abso lutely new—» I bare no doubt It was nd the beet ot Its kind obtainable, the evidence* of wealth on every hand contrasting strongly with, my com fortable but unpretentious borne In Suffolk. The footman had Just closed the door after admitting us. and I wai de voutly hoping that I might neither see nor be seen by my aunt’s sister before bad bed an opportunity of making myself tolerably presentable—which could certainly not be the caae with any one Immediately after a seventy- five mile journey on the Great East ern Hallway—when the young lady of whom I was thinking tripped lightly down tot etelrs, and throwing her arms around .my aunt, embraced her to a manner which drove me wild with envy. The next minute, how ever, Miss Marsh was her-elf seised by uncle Sam, who held her g-utly but with an Iron grip while he gave her more kisses than I had presence of mind to count When at length he de sisted, be pointed' at me, saying, “There, Connie, my pet; I have brought you homo tho husband I prom ised you. What do you think ot him? Looks Innocent, don’t he. Con?” Then, turning to hla wife, “Suffolk boys make too beet husbands to toe world, eb, Gertrude?” To be continued. Why English Girls Do Not Marry Americans By Lady Henry Somerset T bee been stated by Lady Lonsdale that there are “few to tematlocal marriages between English girls and American men, simply because toe English girls will not bare toe American men.” • I do not know how many months Lady Lonsdale sped# to America—perhaps I should say how many weeks; bnt I think we usually find that people who spend a few weeks to the States are prepared to write a book; after they have been there a few months they hesitate, and when they have been there a year or two they decide that It lo Impossible. They realise probably that It may be practicable to write something upon one portion of the States to which they have happened to stay, but to write Vaguely ttod broadly of America with limited knowledge of the continent la due of the Snares into which only hasty travelers are apt to fall. Speaking with bnt a superficial knowledge of what Lady Lonsdale wrote, i Should key she probably forgets that comparatively few American young men make any lengthened stay in England. ■ American gtris who travel with their mother* or otter women relatives have leisure. A visit to England forme pert of their education, and baring studied our history and learned our traditions, toe girls Witt fortunes seem to me now to prefer as a rule to exchange their dollars for English tltlee rather than to remain In toe New World to enrich toeir own country. The American yoqng man a» aoon a* be leaves college bee usually to enter business life, a life wbleb under toe present conditions gives but little leisure and allows bnt little time for travel or recreation. • A flying visit to London, to Home or to Pari* Is osnally ell that 1* possi ble; It 1s not given to blm to enter English society, to dawdle to country bouses, to ltogdr to our grhen lanee and trim flower gardens, or to take leisure to woo and to win toe affections of toe English girl. On the other hand, toere are few English girls who travel in toe States. There are many reasons for this, but probably the most potent te toe very great' expense which euch a Journey entail*, an expense that ordinary English families never contemplate, unless acme strong reason of business, toe claims of relatives or the'desire to seek a fortune to toe New World make anch an ontlay desirable. It has often been a matter of surprise to me that toe English mother, whose ambitions are not one whit behind those Of the American mother, to Mr deslye to acquire for her daughter the beet of this world’s goods, does not contemplate such trip* as a matter of speculation. Perhaps she feels, however that the competition la too keen, that toe American girl holds her piece too firmly to her own county to,be dispossessed by the daughter of England. Be that as It may, I am fatly persuaded that the reason which bas been suggested to me, namely, that the EngUeh girl would lose caste by such a marriage, 1s not the real one. Caste bas practically ceased to exist. Wealthy grocers and rich brewers, gin distillers and epeentetora of all kinds are now on the pinnacle of English fashion, end there is no hesitation In ally ing toe Oldeet historical names with toe wealth of toe self-made man. Money te toe key that will open tte'door to the most exclusive EngUeh society, and the desire for money le not confined to toe scions of noble honeee who seek rich American wives, but I think It would equally apply to the English girl It she had * chance of acquiring toe American millionaire. jz? The Endless Chain of Sickness By J. O. Phelps Stokes HEBE are upward of 1,000,000 deaths eacb fear to the United States. H K in ninety-two caeee out of a hundred the people who die ere }{ I Jj lees* than sixty-five years old. So tt to plain Hurt to toe greet majority of rases toe canee ot death 1a neither old ak» j»r natural “ wear nnd tear.. • It le found on Investigation that nine-tenths of the deaths and'practically all of the sickness to the world are due to unsanitary conditions that could be corrected, and to bad habits that weaken toe body and make tt lea* *ble to resist the disease that come* Its way. But death le not the only evil that results from preventable Jlsease. Nat ural death, eueh as comes from old sge, Is perhape not an evil at aU. Such death 1s painless, and usually Cornea peacefully, during sleep. Death must, of course, come sooner or later; but toe suffering eqd poverty that are so often caused by unnatural death and by preventable disease, and the despair wbleb so often follows end which so often leads to vice and crime, are needless evils, and are very far-reaching lb toeir effects. The evils that are due to dlseaee cad be-escaped Just to proportion as the conditions and habits that bring on dlseaee become more widely understood. The social aspects ot disease (that 1s to say. the effects of disease upon others than the sick themselves), should receive wider consideration. If people could he sick for awhile and die, without Buffering themselves, and without causing suffering or sorrow or loss to father* or mothers or children or friends, nnd without loss to tho community, then sickness and death would be far leee serious matters. But tbs person who te sick and dies te not toe only victim. For instance. It Is plain that tf a wage-earner te kept from his work by sickness or death toe ability ot his family to support themselves le lessened or destroyed. If-Increasing poverty follows, more sickness te ept to follow, too; for the chance of sickness Increases as toe body becomes less well nourished •nd less well protected from cold and exposure. There Is a sort of “endless chain” system at work here. The alckneas of a wage-earning father, for Instance, brings poverty to bts family; poverty lessens the ability of the family to secure toe food end coal and clothing that are necessary to health;; for where too body te weak and the health poor dis ease more easily takes hold. The whole family, perhaps, becomes eickly to consequence of toe bad con ditions which caused the father to become sick and unable to enpport them. Hi feet, the whole community suffers when the people become sick and die; for the people are tho community, nnd disease anywhere affects toe health and happiness and welfare of the whole. • Consider also the effect of disease upon the people’s habits and morals We know that poverty often leads to despair and desperation, and that despair and desperation too often lead to vice and crime. Many men and women stand the trials of poverty with splendid courage and to the noblest way. bnt very many have not toe moral strength tor this and are “driven to drink” and to every kind ot vice and crime and wrong doing. Where vice and crime are toe results of poverty that has been caused by preventable disease, they are as needless ss toe disease itself. When toe people by individual and united effort have corrected toe condi tions wbteb underlie disease they will have prevented a vast amount of suffer ing end poverty, and wilt have removed a fruitful source of many evils that poverty brings.—New York Evening Journal. JZ? "I am glad,” said Willie’s mamma proudly, “to bear that my little boy chose to apologise rather than to fight." “Sure," replied Willie. “The other feV low was a good dtal bigger than mg," No More New Churches The Question Is Howto Meet Changes to Come By the Rev. T. T. Manger HE era of division or separation seems to be drawing to an end. It te doubtful If we aoon see another denomination of any importance that can be called Christian. There te great activity In the' theological world, but It does not move to toe direction' of erecdal organisation., There is no less theology—for theology win never go out ot fashion—but it looks towards explanation if not extinction of creeds already existing, and to other changes that drop out or reinterpret old meanings end bring to new. Careftd distinctions and definitions that determine the exact amonnt ot freedom or necessity to the will are disregarded, because Christian faith 1a not now ap proached on that side of our nature. Emphasis is transferred from toe field .of speculation, where chiefly the denominations originated, to toe field of ac tion, to psychology and human society. The pressure of toe peat 1s less felt, or Is felt as reverence rather than is authority. The fact of change—whatever Its cause—ran no longer be restated, and ti-n chief question that burdens thoughtful minds in toe church te: At what speed and by wbat road will tt move into the region where it must go? Also, what shall be left behind and wbat carried forward? The main question of a’? How ti retain steadiness ot mind to the confusion and rash that fill the air. Serious minds tremble before the changes that come thundering down upon then:.—The Atlantic. . - ,c_ JUSEHOLW ropicsc BED HANGING IN VOGUE. Bed banging are Win In fa«b ■ays the London Extras. The d ttqst and lightest of ctortagi are u for them, from whJU’Madlas tambour muslins, uCUm&i si brocades In all toeir raffle shades. There are alsoilit ai and quaint coloring* bos and dye or toe more couTOtt.usl terns that will ever popularity. Tho textures of toe beautiful. Tambour se fn) with draperies of t French white work te exi orattve, with curtains of ner material. Japanese 1 ways popular, and can be white with a knotted fringe or tea-colored silk edged with toe same shade. Bed spreads and pillow ihai lace over colored linings tone wll bangings. Spreads of Old Jiand-w linen with borders of antique Iaci being used sgaln by those who ar tunate to possess them. Many shops are showing < spreads ofRenaissance and Marl toinette lace, which go so well wtt flowered dilutees. But these are ly. There are countless other J> aid Inexpensive designs to be taoweyer. BOW TO MARKET. To learn bow to market toadvanti tt a fine art To learn bow to care 1 and make the- most of everything i ter It 1s brought Into the boUMr te finer. Both require toe willing spirit level bead and then experience or pnl tice to make perfect There 1s no roy road to housekeeping, any more tb: any other science. It requires stui and hard knocks, though some wo adapt themselves to It more reed than others. To live within her inco 1 te every woman’s duty. Othcrwiee wage earner—to quote pbllosoph “Richard”—may make up Me mind keep his nose to toe grindstone all life, and die not worth a groat at 1a j In order to Uve within her income, Wage spender must know wbat Income 1s. The wage earner has himself to blame If he gives hla - no Idea of bow toe family flna ' stand; but allows her to run bills \ blm to pay more or less gramblh The majority of women, given a tain definite amount to spend, learn to make tt go mneb further i a man. A man bate* to be both* with details. .While the American 1 man hat not yet equalled toe Freli housewife In guarding against f smallest household leaks anl i Ing the Income so as to make peqny coant, she te gradually w0t\ < up to it, and In time will doubtless able to give points to the housewife: J other, nations. T RECIPES .2 Tomato Farcl—Put a layer of ti toe* in a baking dlsb, season wll and pepper and sprinkle over bread crumbs, then more tomatoes; crumbs until toe dlsb le full; •! over the top . buttered bread bake In a moderate oven forty mini Breed Pancakes—Cover stale b with hot water and let stand ten ntes; press oat the water; to one enj softened bread add one beaten egg, a teaspoon of salt, one-third cu; floor and about one cap of enough to make a smooth batter; in one teaspoonful of baking bake on a bot griddle. Bice Omelet—To one cupfnl of “boiled rice Add one cnpfnl of milk, one tablespoonful of melted ter, one teaspoonful of salt, a pepper and three eggs, beaten; r little butter In a frying pan; wbei turn in toe omelet mixture and let slowly; put In toe oven tor a few utes; when It is cooked through fc In bait; tarn ont on a bot platter serve at once.' Rice Waffles—To two cupfuls of boiled rice tdd two cupfuls ot beat two eggs; add to them one cu| of milk; pour this over toe flour rice and beat well; add one tableip ful of butter, ■ melted, and two 1- teaspoonfuls of baking powder and teaspoonful of salt; bake on a waffle Iron; sour milk may be used stead of all sweet milk; In ttat omit toe baking powder and use sweet and trait sour milk nnd one spoonful of soda. Fish Baked to Custard—Remove fillets from a cod or haddock wetgl three or four pounds; beat two c add them to one pint of milk; one spoonfnl of sugar, a little grated meg, -one teaspoonful of salt, three crackers broken tn emaU'pIeces little pepper; when the fish bas skinned and boned lay ore-half of; fish on a greased baking pan, pour It half toe egg end milk mixture, ley over toe other half of toe fish pour toe remaining milk and egg tare over It; .break one tehS of batter n stanl pieces, them ove* toe top of toe fish; plei a moderate oven, baste every few utes an- bake forty-fire minutes; II oven fsjtoo hot the enstard will cui aa tImmixture thickens lift it to top ogfhoflsh; serve with Holtem French Prisoner*. in Franco are permi| one visit to dying patents.