The Henry County weekly. (McDonough, GA.) 18??-1934, August 02, 1907, Image 2
HENRY COUNTY WEEKLY. J. A. FOUCHE, Publisher. R. L. JOHNSON, Editor. Entered at the postoffice at McDon ough as second class mall matter. Advertising R&fes: SI.OO per inch per month. Reduction on standing contracts by special agreement. It is significant that the war college has been built while the plans of the Temple of Peace are still incomplete, laments the New York American. Senator John T. Morgan of Alabama is over 80 years of age, but is said to work harder than any other mem ber of the senate. He has practically no income but his salary, notes the Argonaut, but he has never accepted a railroad pass for himself or for any member of his family, and while he occasionally contributes to the maga zines he always refuses to accept any ccnipsnssticiiY The same possibility of defeating ill fortune confronts every intended sui cide, the same probability that clouds will pass, insists the Columbus Dis patch. The state of mind which ad mits for a moment the consideration of such an act c%nnot be other than morbid and diseased. It should be resisted as such, shaken off, counter acted, inhibited with all the subject’s will power. The first of duties is the duty to live. Women going into politics evidently propose to carry with them the right to the last word. In the recent bye election in Wimbledon, England, where Mr. Chaplin was opposed by the woman suffragists, one of hi 3 posters read: “No, thanks, my dear. You mind the baby, and leave politics to roe ” To which the women made the reply: “Why didn't Mr. Chaplin mind the baby? When he was president of the local government board from 1895 to 1900, overcrowding and bad sanitary conditions caused the unnecessary loss of 40,000 Infant lives.” , A difference of opinion has devel oped between Rev. C. Ernest Smith and the Washington Post about Sun day in the capital city. The clergy man says: ’'Sunday, throughout a large part of Washington, is neither a day of rest nor of religious obser vance. Whatever may be the explan ation, Sunday is probably worse kept here than jo any other city of j fht east.” The newspaper Says: “There is no other city in the United States of even half the population of Washington in which Sunday is char acterized by such delightful, restful quietude as prevails here. It is more like the old-fashioned New England village than the typical American city.” t The fight against tuberculosis is no easy one to win, and all engaged in it fully realize this. But it is not hope less, as only a few years ago it was supposed to be—except in the case of the few fortunate ones who had means sufficient when first attacked to seek the more favored climes, pleads the Indianapolis News. Progress has been made —great progress—in the more thorough understanding of the nature of the disease and of the necessary conditions for battling with it, if even hope of success is to be entertained. Pure air and sunshine, life in the open, and abundant nourishing food, these are the chief implements in the battle. Already great and promising results have been achieved. State af ter state is providing sanatoria to serve not only as curative agencies, but likewise as educational forces—to teach the gospel of proper rare and precaution. And, perhaps, even more important than this (though it is of vast importance) is the great aivaken ing among physicians as to the possi bilities of treatment and care by sim ple, common sense methods. In al most every community physicians are now becoming enthusiastic preachers and teachers of the new word about tuberculosis. So gradually the peo ple’s views and despair about the dis ease are being changed and the way is being prepared for still mere thor ough work and requirements by the public health authorities. Let the good work go on. By WALTER B ESA NT. CHAPTER IV. 5 Continued. “Don't bp in a burry. There may be a w ill. The property con only be ours if there is no will, because Tom would certainly have given it to that girl.” Harriet sunk back in her chair. “I thought,” her husband continued, “before he went away that there would be no money, after all.” “No money? Why? With all your uncle s fortune!” “Because it seemed at one time as If there were liabilities flint would swallow up all. Why should he make a will when he had nothing to leave? There was not even an insurance; there is next to nothing in the bank; there are his books, but what are they worth?” “No will, you think, Tom? Then ” “No will, lam nearly sure. But for the present we cannot be absolutely certain.” “But then he may not be dead, after all.” “For my own part, I have been cer tain from the beginning that he is dead. The party were surrounded and attacked. A few escaped. When the place was visited again the other day there was nothing but the skeletons left. I have no doubt at all that he is killed.” A Oh!” It was a long and rapturous Interjection. “Are you sure, Jem? Oh: And no will! Can no one take the property away from us?” “There is no will, Harriet. It will be oil mine.” He spoke with an author fty which commanded faith. “How much is it, Jem? Oh, tell me how much it is;” “There’s a house in Russell Square, beautifully furnished, where my uncle lived.” “Oh! but there’s more than a house.” “There is property of all kinds—free hold houses, lands, investments—which come to, we’ll say. fifteen hundred a year, I dare say. Harriet, we’ll go at once and live in Russel! Square.” “We will, Jem.” “We'll give up this measly little villa.” “We will oh! we will; and Jem dear Jem—promise me you won't play ducks and drakes with this money as you did with your own.” “No, my dear, I will not. T’ve done with betting, don’t you fear. It’s all over, Harriet. And I say, old girl, we’ve had our little tiffs about the money, and I own we’ve been hard up once or twice.” __ “OncC of twice only? It seems to me that it's been nothing but a stand up fight ever since we got married. Hardly a day but I wished myself back at my stall in Soho Bazaar. Once or twice! And you led me to believe that you were so well off.” “Well, Harriet, I was in love, you know. But that's all over, and what 1 wanted to say was that it's all to he forgotten noiv, just as we shall sink the stall when we go into society and take our proper place.” “Toor Tom Addison!” she sighed. “1 shall put on mourning for six months— not crape, of course, because I hate it— but half-mourning for six months. Half-mourning is always becoming Poor Tom Addison! And I shall a I ways he sorry that I never saw him. 1 could have grieved for him so much more truly if I had ever known him.” “Oh! never mind that.” said her hus band, brutally. “Sit down and enjoy a good cry over him, just as if you had known him. Y'ou'd like him back again, wouldn’t you? Nothing we should either of us like better.” “Don’t, Jem. Of course, it makes a wonderful difference to us. But wc may have our feelings, and there's a proper way of talking about things.” “Feel away,” Jem grinned, “and talk as much as you like, but don’t talk him back again. Yes, you can talk, 1 know, as well as the tinker who talked off the donkey's hind leg.” "Then there's that poor dear girl who was engaged to him. What's become of her? I wish I'd known her, too. 1 could have called upon her and con doled with her in black silk.” “She is n governess somewhere. 1 believe. It’s rough on her, isn't it? I hope she’ll get another lover.” “Lovers are not to be had for the asking. Jem. There’s not enough to go round, as everybody knows, and very few girls get more than one chance: unless, of course, they are more than commonly attractive.” She smiied, feeling herself to be one of the excep tions. This conversation makes the resi dence of Mr. and Mrs. James Rolfe in Russell Square intelligible. It also explains why Mr. James Rolfe sat every day in his uncle's office in New Square, Lincoln Inn, his own name be ing put up instead of his uncle’s, am: there carried on bis business. When James Rolfe was an articled clerk there came to the office once a quarter, to receive on each occasion the sum of seventy-five pounds, in five pound notes, a gentleman named Cap tain Willoughby. He was an elderly man of distinguished appearance and excellent manners. The senior clerk received him, gave him his money, and took his receipt. The whole business did not take more than five minutes. On the last quarter day of March, com monly called lady day, Captain Wil loughby had not called for his money. Janies was ia no hurry to find out what had become of this man and who were his heirs. Indeed, he was at first fully occupied mastering the details of a complicated estate, and it must be owned that he was not good at master ing details. Presently, things becom ing a little clearer, he began to inquire further into this matter, and he dis covered several curious and interest ing things, namely, first, that no mes sage or intelligence had eoine to the office concerning Captain Willoughby; secondly, that no person had sent hi any claim as heir; thirdly, that no one had Inquired after the trust; and fourthly, that Optain Willoughby’s ad dress was unknown. It was strange that If the man was dead his heirs did not come forward. The mystery of this trust began to worry him. Where were Captain Willoughby’s heirs? Was he really dead? If so, why had no news been sent to the office? “The trust money,” lie said, present ing the case to himself, “was given to my uncle. Here is Miss Willoughby’s letter In the safe. ‘Give my nephew three hundred a year.’ And here is the deed which my uncle drew up to se cure the carrying out of the trust. The nephew did marry, there’s my uncle's note at the back of the letter. He married an actress and she died. Had he any children? I don’t know. If he had, let them come and, take their money. They must know where their father came for his. If there no children, the money reverts to Miss Willoughby’s heirs. Well, let them come and claim it. There is nothing to prove the trust but this one letter and the deed. They may have a copy, but it isn’t likely, or I should have heard of it by this time. Besides,' Mrs. Willoughby died seven years ago; her will has long since been proved and her money paid over by my uncle, her executor, to her heirs, and not a word said about the trust in her will.” 'Tou now begin to understand what it was that James Rolfe did. First, he constituted himself sole heir. If, anything, he said, should be left after the trust was paid, it could be divid ed among all the cousins if they came to claim it. Until they should claim their share he continue to take and enjoy the whole. Next, he said nothing to his wife about the trust; he did not endeavor to find out if Captain Willoughby left any children, nor did he acquaint the •heirs of Miss Willoughby with the facts. As for his promise as regards Kath arinp, he put that away in a corner of his brain where it was not likely to disturb him. And he told his wife nothing of that promise, any more than of the trust money. Conscience sometimes makes dread ful ghosts to appear in the dead of night and whisper terrifying things in the ears of some solicitors who do these things. In James Rolfe's case there were no ghosts at all. Conscience acquiesced. He slept the sleep of the just and righteous. No one knew about the trust; there was. to be sure, the lot ter in the safe with the deed, but the key of this safe was in his pocket. No one knew about the trust, or about his promise as regards Katharine—ridicul ous, to think that he was going to give that girl his uncle’s estate! No one knew except Tom Addison and himself, and Tom was dead. If he had told Harriet the exact truth she might perhaps have insisted on the restitution of the trust money to Miss Willoughby's heirs and she might have proposed a compromise as regards Katharine. On the other* hand, she might have acquiesced in her husband’s proceedings, and evere given him assistance and a moral sup port. Who knows? But he did not tell her, and she contkiued happy in her great house, for the first time in her life free from worry; now her liusfcand was rich there would be no more trouble. Of course, he was hon est. Honest? The doubt could not arise. A gentleman is always honest; who ever heard of a gentleman being a rogue and a robber of orphans? CHAPTER V. Katharixe. Tom was dead. The worst misfor- tune that could happen to any girl had fallen upon Katharine. She had lost her lover. In modern warfare the war correspondent runs more risks than the warrior. The latter only takes his turn in the fighting; the former must be always in the front; the combatants are looked after and kept in safety; they are like the pawns of a chess board, moved from cover to cover; the correspondent has to find his own cover. The earlier war corre spondent had to keep in the rear with the camp followers and the commis sariat; he pieked up what information he coyld gather, an object of much suspicion and some contempt. He now marches with the van, goes out with the forlorn hope, sits down in the thick of the fight with his note book and takes ten men’s share of the bul-< lets. Consequently he sometimes gets picked off. The hope that the two missing Eng lishmen might return was never strong and grew daily more faint, until it finally vanished quite. They were dead. There could be no longer any doubt. *•***•• The governess who knows nothing ftrul is only amiable and kind to the children, with a leaning in the direc tion of religion, is rapidly dying out; the march of civilization tramples up on her. The high schools and the Cambridge colleges are making her existence impossil ie. Therefore Kath arine was happy in having obtained a post as governess in the simple and unpretei ding family of the Emptages. They lived in Doughty street, where They occupied the low T er part of the. house—that part which commands the kitchen. There were six children, all [girls; the youngest was six and the oldest fifteen, and they were all Kath arine’s pupils. The bread winner was a clerk in the city; he had, I do really believe, all the virtues of his profes sion; not one or two, but all; they are too many to enumerate; suffice it to say that he wrote like copper plate, and kept books with accuracy; was as punctual as the clock; never wanted any amusement: did not smoke to bacco; drank a half pin* of beer wilh his dinner and another with his sup per; walked into the city and out again—lie had walked in and out for thirty years, being now five and forty, and his salary now reached the very handsome figures of three hundred, at which point it would remain. His father was a clerk before him; his brothers and uncles and cousins and nephews were clerks; his wife was j the daughter of a clerk; he was steeped 1 in clerkery. In appearance he was j neat, clean, small and spare, with a modest whiskey of black hair; he had ventured to become as bald in front ! as if be were a partner; he believed ! that he had attained to a really lofty elevation on the social ladder; cer- j tainly there were fewer above than j below him; and he considered his ca- j reer a remarkable example of what j may be effected by ability backed by j industry and honesty'. His wife was small and neat, like him, but she looked much more worn, because to keep six children neat and respectable is work of an even more responsible character than that of a clerk in a city house. I suppose there was nowhere a harder worked woman, and, fortunately for her governess, there was nowhere a kinder-hearted womaq, » . > K CHAPTER VI. Dittiiek Bock. There is not much society for fam ilies such as this of Doughty Square; friends and relations of course there are; but there is little hospitality, and one can r.ot expect much visiting when the ladies of the household are occupied all day long in keeping the family neat and respectable to out ward show. The theater, with an or der to the upper circle, is the most desired form of female recreation. Nevertheless, the Emptages had one regular and even constant visitor. He ; came every morning and smoked a j cigar—of Hamburg manufacture —and conversed with Mr. Emptage and the ladies. He came at first with the j view of improving bis English by con- 5 versation, but. it must be confessed, j he now came chiefly for the purpose of conversing with Katharine. He was a young German named Ditt- j mer Bock. lie conducted correspond ence for the house, which also em- I ployed Mr. Emptage, in many foreign languages; he wrote letters and took down instructions in shorthand; he drew forty pounds a year; he lived upon that salary, and he presented the appearance of one who lived upon I four times that salary. The young Germans who come to Ijondon in the day of small tinners practice the small economies; they share bed-rooms; Uiey know where to go for meals of a sat isfying kind, large in bulk to satisfy the Teutonic hunger, but cheap. Eigh teen pence a day is considered by some of the younger adventurers ns an ample allowance for food; for ev erything not absolutely necessary a German who means to rise must wait Ditlmer was a sturdy, well-set-up young fellow, actually without spec tacles. He had the blue eyes and the fair hair of his country; his manners were gentle: he firmly believed in tho enormous superiority of Germans over the rest of mankind. ITe loved done- j Ing, though he got none; be could sing. Claying Lis own accompaniments, the folk songs of which the good German never tires; he sung them with great feeling, and in the evening when the largest lamp was lighted—the gas lamp —and the children, with Mrs. Emptage and Kathai-ine. sat at the table saw ing, and Mr. Emptage sat by the fire side, his legs crossed with an even ing paper, enjoying the leisure of a gentleman who has put away care for the day, it was pretty to see Dittmer spreading his fingers over the keys and to listen while he warbled one after the other the ditties of the father land. It became the custom with the young man when Katharine stayed until nine —no one could stay later because that was the time for the family supper— to walk home with her as far as the door of Harley House. (To be continued.) A Pen of Daniels. Hon. Joseph 11. Choate tells a story of W. S. Gilbert, the dramatist and wit. Mr. Gilbert was lunching at a coun try club when he found himself sur rounded by six or seven clergymen who had been on a motor tour of the country thereabouts. Fretty scon the author of the “Mikado” -e vs drawn in to conversation. When his identity was kuown. o.e of the clergymen asked Mr. Gilbert how he felt “in such grave and reverend company." “Like a lion in a den of Daniels,” was the reply.—Harper’s Weekly. R. O. JACKSON, Attorney-at- Law, McDonough, ga. Office over Star Store. E. M. SniTH, Attorney at Law, Me Doxough, Ga. Office over Star Store, south side square. All work carefully and promptly attended to. Am premared to negotiate loans on real estate. Terms easy. 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