The Sun. (Hartwell, GA.) 1876-1879, January 15, 1879, Image 1

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THE TICKET AGENT. *• Western train’s gone, ma'am,” said Farmer Brown, coming into the waiting room of the little depot. •• The train I was to take ?” I said, gasping. “ Yes, ma'am ; too bad, but can't be helped. Harness will give out some times, you know,” said he, sympathiz ing^- “ When is the next Western train due ?” “ Not till six o'clock ; you've got five hours to wait. Be dreadful tiresome, ma'am. There's a nice family that lives in t’other part of the house; s’pose I tote you iu there ? I know Mrs. Holly’ll give you a bite of suthin’ to eat, and she'll be proud to let you rest on her spare bed. Fine woman. Mrs. Ilolly is—l know her. Won't you go in and see her, ma’am ?” “No thank you, sir; I dare say that I'll be quite comfortable here.” “ Waal, jes as you please. But now I must be goin’. Hope 3’ou'll git to your journey's end Safe, ma'am. Good bye.” And Farmer Brown left the room, mounted his wagon, and soon disap pear and down the dusty road. I had been''visiting a friend who lived in a country settlement, some five or six miles from the solitary building dignified by the name of depot; and when the time came for me to return home, she placed me in care of a neigh boring farmer who was"going to a dis tant village, and would pass the station. During our ride we met with an acci dent. Part of the harness gave way and wc were detained such a length ol time that, as the reader knows, I was too late for the train. After Fanner Brown left me I amused by reading a newspaper which someone had left lying on ti e seat. Finishing this, I studied the design of the wall paper, counted the panes o'. glass in the little window, and wonder ed at the tidiness of the whole apart ment. “ Country depots are generally such vile, dirty places ; wonder why this is an exception ?” I said to myself. Then a thought struck me, “ Oh, probably tire place is kept clean by Mrs. llolly, so enthusiastic. Wonder if this same worthy female would give me a glass of water ?” And I tapped on the door communi cating with the other apartments. ‘‘Come in,” said a cheery voice, and entering, I found myself in one of the prettiest, cosiest rooms I had ever seen. The mo3t delicious tint of butf was on the walls ; cool matting covered the floor, muslin curtains, festooned with ivy, hung at the windows ; pictures and flowers and all the dainty belongings that make a room look so homely and pleasant. And, most charming of all, there lay in a white draped cradle a rosy baby, fast asleep, with rings of golden hair falling over his white brow, and a great, red, velvet rose clasped in hi3 dimpled hand. Over him bent a woman of twent3’- two or three years —a little mite of a woman, with a bright, dark face, vivid ly colored, big black eyes, and won drous dark hair wound in heavy braids about her stately head. She arose with a smile when I en tered. “ Excuse me ; but may I trouble you for a glass of water ?” I said. “No trouble at all, ma’am. Pray be seated. Excuse me.” And she left the room. Presently she returned, bearing a sal ver covered with a snow-white napkin, containing a glass of water, a glass of creamy milk, a saucer of luscious strawberries, and a plate of sponge cake, light as yellow foam. “ Pardon me,” she said, smiling, “if I take too great a liberty, but 3 011 see, Farmer Brown told me of your being obliged to wait so long, and I thought you might be hungry.” “ Why, how very kind you are !” I exclaimed in pleased surprise. “ Not at all; it’s a pleasure to me. If you are hot and dusty, perhaps you'd like to bathe your face. If so, just step in here. And she led the way into a little white bedroom—the very heart of clean liness and purity. In a little while I was a different being from the cross, dusty, hungry mortal who had sat in the hot waiting room. I found Mrs. Ilolly a perfect little gem of a woman, and, after the manner of our sex, we soon became as well acquainted as if we had known each other for years. And while I was VOL. Ill—NO. 20. lying languidly upon her comfortable sofa, and she seated in her low chair stitching away at her baby's dress, site told me the one romance of her life. >• 1 have lived in this little depot all my days," she began. “My father was agent here ; and he served the company so long and so well that when lie died | they kindly allowed me to remain in ! Ids place with the same wages, too! i For, you see, I was seventeen, and my i father had long before taught me tele graphing and all the other work. About a year after father’s death I became ac quainted with Jack —.lack Holly, m3’ husband,” and Mrs. Holly looked up and smiled. “Jack was one of the best engineers on the road (and is now, too), and everybod3’’ considers him an honest, likely 3’oung fellow. He thought the world of me, and we became engaged. But you know how girls are! The weakest of them make a strong man tremble.” “ A weak girl held all his heart strings in her small, white hand ?” I said. “ Yes ; and I dare say I often pulled lack’s heart-strings rather hard ; but ie was gentle and patient when I flirted with the conntr3’ lads, and when I was wild and wayward he didn't remon strate. But one day there came along 1 city chap, who engaged board for the summer at a farm-house in the neigh borhood. “ This Clarence Devarges as he was called, wa3 handsome, well dressed and iad that polished, indescribable air that is so fascinating to most silly girls. Jack was kind and well mannered, but he hedidn't have a bit of style about him> but‘style’ was what 1 doted on in hose da3’s. So I snubbed Jack, and miiled on Mr. Devarges when he offer ed liis attentions. 1 flirted most dread £4ill lir nrifK him fill oiran rranomua Jut'l' was displeased. “ One morning, looking somewhat grave and sad, he came into the ticket office. The last passenger had gone, and the train was moving out. Jack's train had stopped to take freight. “ Well, how long is this thing going to last ?” said Jack. “ What thing?” I snapped out. “ Why, this alfair with Devarges ; I see it is going beyond a mere flirtation.’ “ Pray, wffiat of it ?’ “ Only that I do not wish my future wife's name joined in with that of a —' Jack paused here, and added earnestly : “Well, I warn you against this fellow. Who knows wlmt lie is ?’ “ Mr. Devarges is a perfect gentle man, and that is more than one can say of some others,’ I said hotly. “And, Mr. Holly, in regard to your future wife, I believe I do not aspire to that honor and—here is your ring.’ I drew off the golden band and handed it to him. “ Nell, do you mean this V inquired Jack, with white lips. “ Yes, I do. I'm tired of your carp ing and criticising,’ I said, pettishly. “So be it, then. Good-by,’ said Jack, and, without another word, he left the room. “To tell the truth, I hadn’t meant half I said, and every minute expected that Jack would kiss me and we’d make up. A mist came over my eyes as I watched him fast disappearing again, and I would have indulged in a good cry, but just then the special came puff ing up, and the President of the road came in. lie was a kind old gentle man, whom I had known since I was a wee girl. “Good day, Miss Nellie. Every thing prosperous, I hope. \V ill )’ou do a favor for me ?’ “ Certainly, sir, if I can.’ “ Well, you see, when we were com ing down I met a gentleman that owed me some money; paid me S6OO, and now I do not know what to do with it, as we are going up into the woods to see about laying out anew railroad. We shall be gone two days. Don’t want to take the money with me; will you take charge of it while I am gone?’ “ If you will trust me.’ “ Bless my soul! yes, of course ; here is the money. Must hurry away. Good morning.’ “Scarcely had portly Mr. Sayre gone away before Mr. Devarges came saun- HARTWELL, GA., WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 15, IS7J). Curing in. “ Got quite a little sum there, haven’t you, Miss Nellie!’ eyeing the bills in my hand. “ Yes,’ I replied, laughing; ‘ Mr. Sayre has made me his banker. Look ! Six hundred dollars ! How rich 1 would feel if it were mine.’ “ You deserve to have much more; and doubtless that pretty face’ll win it.’ “ Somehow this bold compliment failed to please, and it was with cold’ ness that I said: “ Take a chair, Mr. Devarges.’ “ No, thank you, Miss Nellie. I have an appointment. But will you nllow me to call on 3*oll this evening?” “ Well, I scarcely think 1 will be at home. You know mother and sister Lulu are away, and a little while ago I got word from grandmother saying per haps I had better come and stay all night with her.’ “ It was true that I had received such word from grandma, but had not thought of accepting it. I hoped that Jack would come and make up, and, of course, I didn't care to have Mr. De varges call at the same time. “ What will you do with that money, Miss Nell?’ inquired Mr. De- Varges. “ Oh, I shall put it right here in this drawer. No one knows about it and it will be perfectly secure.’ “ Dare say ; good morning,’ and, with a courtly bow my admirer left. “ All during the day I busied myself about m3' duties, and when night came I put on the dres3 Jack liked best, and waited his coming. Seven o'clock ! eight o’clock ! nine o’clock ! The last train had come and gone, and m3’ duties for the day were over. I put out the light in the ticket oflice and went into tiie sitting-room, and watched and waited. Ten o’clock ! half oast ten! No use waitinsr any longer—lie wouldn’t come. “ I went to the door, opened it and looked out. There seemed everything weird about the whole landscape. Even the shadows seemed alive. The sky was beginning to lie overcast and the moon peeped out of an inky black cloud. The frogs down the river wore croaking disrnaliy; the wind seemed to whisper and moan. “I shivered out with a nameless dread, and closed the door ; went to bed and cried myself to sleep. “ I had slept an hour, perhaps, and then awoke with a sudden start, feeling a great difficulty in breathing. A part of the quilt lay across my mouth, I thought, but on reaching my hand to remove it I found that it was a hand kerchief saturated with —what ? Chlo roform ! “ A thrill of terror passed over me. Who had done this ? Was there some one in the house ? “ I half arose and gazed about me. All was dark except a little ray of light falling through the partly closed doors. “ I silently arose, and just then almost screamed in fear when a sudden sound smote upon my ear. It was only the clock striking the hour of midnight. I placed my hand upon my heart to soothe its fierce throbs. “ Stepping along, carefully avoiding all obstacles, I reached the door, opened it, and glanced into the sitting-room. No one was there, but someone was in the ticket-office, for I saw a light and heard a voice. What did they want ? The money 7 ! —oh, the money" left in my charge! Somebody was stealing it, and what should I say to Mr. Say 7 re ? My God, I might be accused of taking it myself, and thus lose honor and po sition. “ Rather lose life,’ I said to myself. ‘I will defend that money unto death,’ and I looked about for some weapon. “ Under the stove was a large iron poker. Seizing it carefully", I started slowly toward the office door. The light fell upon the mirror, reflecting my figure, and I’ve often thought since, with a sick feeling of horror, what a picture of desperation I was, clad in my flowing, white night-dress, my hair all unbound, my face white as marble, and eyes dilated and glittering, with a strange, steely light. “ God aid me! I said, with white lips; and then opening the door of the office I stole softly in. A man with his back toward me was at the other end of the room. He Imd forced open the drawer, taken out the money, and was looking gloatingly at the crisp green hills, when I stole behind him. 1 had just raised the poker to strike him when lie glanced around. "My God ! It was Clarenoe Devarges! “ Hang it! Now I suppose I’ll have to kill this pretty— ’ He seized me by the throat and, muttering a faint cry, I sank down. Just then Jack, m3’ own Jack, rushed in. I heard oaths, blows, fierce struggling—then all was dark. “ For tho first time in m3’ lite I fainted. ****** “ When l recovered Jack's face was bending over me, and Jack’s voice ut tered loving words. I put 1113- arm about his neck and cried like a weak baby. “ Aren’t you hurt, Jack ? ** Not a bit, dearest. Devarges is d ; abled, though, with a pistol wound in his leg. ’Tisn’t very severe, but it will prevent his escaj c.’ “ But how eainc you here ?’ “ Why’, 3'ou see, when we parted this morning, Nell, I thought I'd never sec you again, but to-night, after I came home, I made up my mind to come around and try and make up. It was pretty late, between nine and ten, when I came, and who should I sec prowling around but Devarges. Thinks I, what does he want ? If he's coming court ing, why don't lie go in instead of peep ing in at the window ? “ I rather thought lie was a scamp, because when I was in the city yester day the Chief of Police told mo that they had reason to think that a noted gambler and blackleg had come up in these parts. He gave a description, and it suited Devarges perfectly, all except a mustache. And, by the way, I Nell, that silkv mustache you so ad ~; r ,a was false, and fell ott in om sen tile. “ Well, as I said, I saw Devarges prowling about, and I thought I’d see ! what he was up to. lie looked in at j the window at j r ou, and I heard him I mutter : ‘ The deuce take it! She is l at home, after all! What the deuce made her saj r siie was going to her | grandmother's? Now, I suppose I’ll have to wait till my pretty bird’s asleep.’ “So he sat down under one tree and I sat down under the other. We both saw you when you opened the door and looked out. After you had been in bed about an hour, Devarges forced open the sitting-room window and crawled in. While he was in the office lightning the lamp, I also got in at the window and concealed myself in the closet, and— well, you know all the rest. “Jack,’ said I, tearfully, ‘ you’ll for give me for being naughty and way ward, and you'll believe me when I say that I loved you all the time, won’t you ?” “ Well, Jack said lie would, and we have been happy ever since. And this is iny story, ma'am—my only romance.” ' Don’t Whip. A parent who doesn’t know how to govern a child without whipping it ought to surrender the care of that child to some wiser person. Sportsmen once thought it was necessary to lash their dogs in training them for the field. They know now that the whip should never lie used. Horsemen once thought it was necessary’ to whip colts to teach them to start and stop at the word and pull steadily. They now know that an apple is hotter than the lash, and a ca ress better than a blow. If dogs and horses can be thus educated without punishment, what is there in our chil dren which makes it necessary to slap and pound them? Have they less in telligence? Have they cold hearts? Are they lower in the scale of being? Wc must have heard many old people say", “If we were to bring up another child we would never whip it.” They are wise—but a little too late. Instead of God doing so little for children that they must he whipped into goodness, He has done so much for them that even whipping can’t ruin them—that is, as a rule. But, alas! there are many ex ceptions to this rule. Many children are of such quality that a blow makes! WHOLE NO. 124 them cowardly, reckless, deceitful, or permanently ugly. Whipping makes children lie. Whipping makes them steal. Whipping breaks their spirit. Whipping makes them hate their pa rents. Whipping makes home distaste ful—makes the Ixiys runaways, makes tho girls seek happiness anywhere and anyhow. Whipping is barbarous. Don’t whip. Neck-Twisting iu Churches. There are practices which are toler ated iu religions congregations which Christians, who are jealous of the hon or of their Master’s house, should ut terly condemn. Decorum is the hand male of devotional feeling, and for this reason a church should never lie dis turbed by the slightest approach to ir reverence. “It is a part of my relig ion"’ said a pious old lady, when asked why she went early to church. “It is a part of my religion not to interrupt the religion of others.” And we believe if many a congrega tion made it a part of their religion not to twist their necks out of joint to wit ness the entrance of every person who passed up the aisle of the church, it would be bettef for their necks and their religion. A gross abuse of relig ious decorum sometimes needs a harsh remedy. We give that adopted by Henry Clay Dean, who was at one time Chaplain of Congress. Tho anecdote is from a paper called the Pacific Metho dist : Being worried one nftsrnoon by this turning practice in his congregation, Mr. Dean stopped in his sermon, and I said : “ Now. yon listen to mo, and I'll tell you who the people are as each one o! j them comes in.” lie then went on with his discourse until a gentleman entered, when he bawl ed out, like an usher: Dotson A , wlio L-oopn a oltop over the waj’?” He then went on with his sermon, : when, prcscntl)', another man passed ! into the aisle, ami he gave his name, residence and occupation ; so he con i tinned for some time. At length someone opened the door who was unknown to Mr. Dean, when he cried out: “A little old man, with drab coat and old white hat; don't know him— | look for yourselves.” How General Gordon Convinced Himself Ho Was Alive. Atlanta ('mutilation. At length a fifth ball struck Gordon full in the face, and, entering his cheek, knocked him senseless. He fell, and for some time his prostrate form was wrap ped in the smoke of battle. We hear from General Gordon’s own lips a story that, in a metaphysical point, is exceed ingly interesting. lie says that when ho fell he was utterly incapable of mov ing. lie gradually began to think of his condition, and this iithc half dream, half soliloquy that lie carried on : “ i have been struck in the head with asix- pound solid shot; it has carried away my head. On the left side there is a lit tle piece of skull left, hut the bruin is entirely gone. And yet lam thinking. How can a man think with his head shot off? And if lam thinking I can not he dead. And yet no man can live after his head is shot off. I may have my' consciousness while dead hut not motion. If I can lift my leg, then I am alive. I will try that. Caul? Yes, there it is ; lifted up. I am all right.” The General says that every stage of this soliloquy is indelibly stamped on his mind, and that in his exhausted state the reasoning was carried on as logically as ever man reasoned at his desk. Doubt succeeded argument and argument dis placed doubtjust as logically as could be. He says he never will forget with what anxiety he made the test of lifting his leg—with what agony he waited to see whether or not it would move in re sponse to his effort, and how he hesitated before trying it for fear it might fail and his death be thereby demonstrated. A school-boy being asked by his teach er how he should flog him, replied, “If you please, sir, I should like to have it on the Italian system of penmanship, the heavy 7 strokes upward and the down ward ones light.” GENERAL BES-I-DES. BY BILL ARP. Detroit free Frets. Thomps was a right good scholar and as amiable as a pet lamb, but he had .a weakness for blunderin’ along over proper names apd miscallin’ ’em. Tho l)o3’s were always on the lookout for fun when lie recited his history lesso.i, and had given him about as many nick names ns he had made blunders, calling him So-pliokels, or Skippio, or Kxer exes, or P-tolemy or the like. One day lie was studying aloud under the shade of a tree and had rend nlong aliout Pericles and Socrates and Aristides ami Euripides and Alcibiades and all the other dcs and les, until the jingle of it got chronic with him. Tho next para graph was a continuation of the history of Demosthenes and began with, “ Be sides. lie was not only a great orator but a great general,” ami Thomps read it. “ Bes-i-des,” supposing anew hero had come to the front. lie and Sam Harris used to hear one another recite before they went to the school room and when Thomps got to Bes-i-des it tickled Harris almost to death. The hoys soon got hold of it. and Thomps took anew name, hut next day Malcolm came back to school and so says Thomps : “ Boys, yonder comes Malcolm, lie pretends to know every, thing and is so conceited and stuck up lie can hardly live. Now, do 3011 all be piiet and see if I don’t sell him.” When Malcom came up and had shaken hands all around, says Thomps: “ Malcom, we were disputing about an cient history, ami the question is whether Bcs-i-des was a Grecian orator or a general. You’ve just been over it and ought to know if anybody does.” Of course Malcolm felt compliment ed, and so with an air of conscious superiority*, lie closed onee3’c, andlook ing up with the other lie said: " Bes-i --des ! Bes-i-des ! All, yes: I remember. Bes-i-des—well, yes—Bes-i-des was a Grecian general. Don’t you remember, lie led the charge at the great battle of l’lmrsalia ?” Thon the boys all yelled, and it was some time before Malcom was able to see the sharp end of the joke. Of course the nickname was transferred, and from that time Malcolm was less airy and more reticent. Two years after lie was studying law at Clarksville, and there was a little old dried up Italian drummer up there who used to drum for the militia at general musters. He claimed to be over a hun dred years old and swore lie drummed for Bonaparte at. the battle of Water loo, and any other great battle you could mention. So one big day during the recess of court, the boys got round him to hear him bent the long roll and the short roll, and the charge and the quickstep and the retreat from Moscow. The upstairs piazza of the hotel was crowded with ladies and big lawyers like Ilowell Cobb, and Torn Cobb, and Hillyer, and Hull, and Underwood, and Dougherty, and Malcolm was down be low, getting fun out of the old drummer for the benefit of the ladies in general, and his sweetheart in particular. He asked him if he didn’t drum for Hannibal and Seipio and Alexander and Joshua at this battle and that bat tle, and the little drummer declared he did and was quite ready to tell wonder ful incidents of the battle. Suddenly Torn Cobb (afterward the General of blessed memory) leaned over the railing and in a singing voice says : “ Malcolm, ask him if he didn't drum for Gen. Bes-i-des at the battle of Fharsalia.” l’oor Malcolm—he thought the old joke was dead, hut most everybody there had heard it, and such a shout you never heard. It wilted him, and it was a long time before he forgave Cobb for taking such an advantage, consid ering his peculiar surroundings. A Story of the War. (hjlcthorpe Echo. During tire late “ unpleasantness,” among the other articles that were non comeatcll: in the South were nails. To obtain a supply the citizens of Goose Bond, in this county, met and actually burned down a good church, that stood near the place now ow ned by Mr. Dock Mattox, and after the fire carefully searched the ashes for and divided the spoils between them. This is an actual fact, and illustrates the acts to which our people were driven by dire necessity. The case of the Georgia man who has been married three times in the same pair of socks is commended to the so ciety for clothing the heathen. That man ought to be put on a different foot ing.