The Henry County weekly. (McDonough, GA.) 18??-1934, January 31, 1908, Image 2
HENRY COUNTY WEEKLY. _ —., , J. A. FOUCHE. Publisher. R. L. JOHNSON, Editor. Entered at the postofflee at McDont jttgli as second class mall matter. Advertising Rates: SI.OO per lncl per month. Reduction on standini contracts by special agreement. One of the saddest things in life, laments the Pittsburg Press, is that there is no style to last year’s hat! The Princess Bonaparte, notes the Atlanta* Journal, “has only SIO,OOO a year to dress on.” Well, a clever, careful princess, retorts the Richmond Times-Dispatch, ought to be able to dress thoroughly and warmly on that amount. According to a student of domestic problems it costs $25,000 to rear a boy in New York City. Why not rear him on a Kentucky farm, asks the Louis ville Courier-Journal, where he can be grown for $2500, minus the product of his useful activities in the cornfield and tobacco patch? Most countries have abolished the lottery and are after the poker table and the dice game of craps. But the “puts and calls” of tike stock ex changes, and the horse race still go, observes the Wichita Eagle. liowever, and of course, it would be out of place to assert that our up-to-date civiliza tion, ill being hypercritical, is hypo critical and inconsistent. The miseries of reckless marriage furnish material for the champions of revolution in the laws of wedlock. But what ardent lover will invite the darl ing of his soul to enter limited mar riage? demands the New York Amer ican. What woman —though the ad vanced of the advanced —would not feel her heart break if her beloved whispered to her of trial marriage? Love is absolute! Remarks the New York Tribune: The barriers between city and country are not so high as formerly and rural advantages are again asserting them selves. The farmer is in many ways better off than the town or city labor er. But if all our unused land is to be restored to cultivation modern methods of farming must be intro duced and the farmer must be made to feel that he has not only an econ omic chance in competition with his western rival, but in competition with the country boy who drifts oft to the city to seek employment. Hetty Green says there is going to be a revolution in this country against the oppressions of the trusts, and the streets will be deluged with blood just as soon as the people find out how the trusts have robbed them. Maybe that is the way Hetty feels when she sees how much money the trusts have got, suggests the Indianapolis News. But she's wrong in two things. First, that there is “going to be” a revolution. There is a revolution already. Next, that there is going to be blood in the streets. We do not do things that way. There will simply be more folk in the penitentiaries. The rural citizen goes to bed not knowing that he may not wake up to find a big gas bag roosting on the ro*f of his chicken shed; possibly a wander ing aeronaut may decide to camp out on his veranda roof and wait for morning. But wait till the novelty wears off, warns the Boston Transcript. That sudden shower of sand from the clouds was some balloon in distress seeking to get on top of a thunder storm; but with sand in eyes and down his back the victim is less inclined to sympathize. He may even be narrow enough to object to having his chimney yanked off by the flying anchor of a balloonist who desires to stop short of Massachusetts bay. Does a man who invests in land, own over head as well as to the centre of the earth? Can he enjoin to the altitude of one mile? Is he justified in punctur ing trespassing gas bags with an air rifle? If so, has the trespasser a right to fall on his land? Aerial navigation laws will have to take into account the rights of those who stay on terra fit , _ - /_4_\ _ *’ A Tale f ‘ \ oy,««mn«« of the / OUNG \ Henry Anglo-Indian \ MISTLEY Seton Secret Service \ / Merriman. \ -m- 7 CHAPTER XVlr. Xl Continued. With a gesture which was almost a command, he bid her resume her seat, and then in a masterful tone he spoke. “Mademoiselle,” he said, “I must ask you to leave England at once. You will return home, and im mediately send in your resignation to the Society of Patriots'on account of your approaching marriage with Monsieur Meyer, which will disquali fy you as a member Have I your promise that you will leave here— if not to-morrow, as soon os possi ble? I ask this of you, though it is in my power to command. And now 1 beg of you, for the sake of Ivan Meyer, for the sake of all you love on earth, to give up forever your connection with any political society. Politics is not for women; it is a man’s work —leave it to men. Every woman who has meddled with it has brought misery to herself and sor row to those who loved her.” The girl slowly raised her eyes to his, and watched his earnest face as he spoke. There must have been something strange in her gaze, for the young fellow winced beneath it. It had never been his lot to look on genuine, hopeless misery before; but he instinctively recognized what he saw in those sad blue eyes. ‘‘l will go,” said Marie, softly. Then Winyard mechanically moved toward the door. With a silent in clination of the head he left them. Meyer alone returned the salutation, but did not stir from his position near to Marie Bakovitch. “You see,” he whispered, "she is going mad!” In all and through all Winyard Mistiey was eminently practical. “Are you quite alone?” he aslted. “Have you no friends in England? Has she no maid, even, with her?” “Yes, she has a maid who is now sleeping in her room. She is young, but intelligent.” “You must rouse her. Let her persuade mademoiselle to go to bed, and she must remain by her side to night. In the morning, if mademoi selle is better, you must get her away from here at once. If—if she is worse, send to me, and my mother will come to her —a woman will know best what is to be done. I can not understand —anything; but I am convinced that mademoiselle is not going mad; it is only temporary. 1 think it must be what is called hys teria. Have you no friends in Eng land?” “We have but one — a Monsieur Jacobi, of London.” “Monsieur Jacobi, of London. Who is he?” asked Winyard. “I know him very slightly; but he has been kind to Marie. He is a musician, and—and is connected with some society to which Marie be longs.” Winyard shook his head. “He is no good, then,” he said. “You must go to your Consul, that is all. If I do not hear from you by eleven to morrow morning, I will know that you have left Walso; but if you re quire assistance of any description, w’rite to me or telegraph at once. Put my name in full—Winyard— W-i-n-y-a-r-d—in the address, so that no mistake can arise. Do not thank me, for I have done nothing yet. Good-night.” And so they parted. Ivan Meyer re-entered the cottage and closed the door. Marie was waiting for him in the little parlor. She was sitting by the table, and her attitude was characterized by u pe culiar stillness which had no feeling of repose about. He stood watching her for some moments with weary, yearning eyes and haggard face. “Marie,” he said at length, in a voice that was no longer pleading as of old, “let us understand each other.” “Yes, Ivan,” she replied, softly. “What do you not understand?” He came nearer, and, leaning one hand upon the back of her chair, ho bent over her. “Will you not do what the Eng lishman asks?” “Yes,” she replied, in a dull voice. “All?” he asked, with trembling lips. “Yes, Ivan, all. We will go to America, as you desire. Oh, lam sq tired! My head is throbbing! 1 will go to bed now. Good-night, Ivan!” She rose and extended her hand to him. In a wondering manner ho raised the delicate fingers to his lips —very tenderly, very lovingly—am) held the door open while she passed out. Then he dropped into a chair, and sat staring stupidly at the paraffin*! lamp till the distant chime of twe o’clock aroused him, and sent him mechanically to his room. CHAPTER XVIII. The Love Scene. Monday evening had been fixed for the first rehearsal of the great dramatic entertain .lent; ana, as end time came near, Lena discovered that she was growing just a little nervous. 'Charles Mistley, as stage-manager, had naturally spoken much of the play, giving, in his good-natured, lazy manner, tentative opinions, and asking advice of Lena and his broth er upon sundry situations to be de picted. Of all had he fully treated, excepting this one most trying icene between herself and Winyard, and this he appeared content to leave to their discretion. Instinctively she knew, however, that the part was within the scope of her little-tried histrionic powers. She felt that she could endow it with life and semblance; and, above all, she understood the character of the girl she intended to represent. Such stage intercouse as she had with Charlie gave her no trouble. He was, indeed, supposed to be her lover; but of an old standing in love, and therefore less embarrassing; while the difficulties that lay in Win yard’s path, of a cross and under current stream of passion, flowing into and discoloring with its villainy the purer and colder river of mild affection, required a tact and dra matic delicacy which Lena knew him to possess. The first rehearsal bid fair to real ize the misgivings of the elder ladies, po intensely ridiculous was it after the preliminary nervousness had quite worn off. This w T as the result of a deliberate plan on the part of the stage-manager, ■whose experience taught him that rehearsals beginning with laughter usually finish up with successful acting. Winyard and Lena were not in the first scene, and Charles Mistley’s part was too Unim portant to have effect on it; and Mrs. Wright, who was prompting, had but little work to do. The sec ond 'scene began in the same manner. “Win, this will never do,” whis pered Charlie. ‘‘lt is more like a board-school examination than any thing else. We must wake them up somehow.” Winyard obeyed his brother’s in structions, and on receiving his cue, introduced two new elements into the performance—merriment and earnest acting, which can be com bined with great facility. In the midst of all the laughter, .the idea suddenly came to Winyard that it would be a worthy triumph to quell the merriment, supplement ing it with the opposite emotion, which is so near at hand. In a whisper he said to Lena: “Now we will show them what we can do!” leaving her to understand it as she could. But soon she did understand, and aided him beyond his expectations. The difficult scene appeared to pass away as if it were a portion of their real and earnest lives—for life is as real and earnest to the merriest of ug as it is to those who pull long faces and suffer from dyspepsia. By the sheer force of his dramatic power he carried her away, and brought for ward the talent of expressing pathos which he had detected when she had sung unwittingly to him. For the moment she was no longer happy Lena Wright—for assuredly nothing could whisper of sorrow in her young Bfe—but the heart-broken girl, part ing from her lover forever; and he, M inyard Mistiey, acted the part as if he knew too well the pain and anguish he depicted so cleverly. First the laughter died away, then vanished the last smile, as these two searched deeper and deeper into every human heart for the emotions which cannot fail to be hidden some where there. It was almost an in spiration, and quite a passing stroke of genius. No word of forethought had passed between them, and yet no mistake could be detected—the art, if art there were, was so well hidden, so craftily covered, that none could determine where it lay. The spectators were hushed into silent wonder. With the majority of them, however, it was merely a piece of clever acting —an exhibition of dramatic talent such as lies in the power of most of us, though the de mand for it may never come. But to two of them it was something more. The prompter drew in a long deep breath, and glanced nervously toward the stage-manager. Of course it was acting—mere acting—but Mrs. Wright did not like it. Such acting, ouch rehearsals were dangerous, and why had that gray, drawn look come over Charles Mistley’s calm face? When it was over there was a mo mentary silence, as if each person present were waiting for some one else to speak. Winyard dusted some imaginary specks of carpet from his knees, as if family prayers had just been offered up, and proceeded to move the furniture and rearrange the improvised stage. This he did quietly and mechanically, which served very well to ease the breaking of tha't silence, and to allow Lena time to come back to workaday speech and thought. “Well done?” said the colonel softly; and Charlie suddenly clapped his strong hands together, and spoke a little rapidly. “Splendid!” he said. “Splendid! Everybody is all that a manager could desire. We will bring down the house with applause, I am cer tain. I am very much obliged to every one for the intelligence and diligence with which they have studied their respective parts!” When at length the two brothers were left alone to smoke a last pipe before going tq bed, they sat for some time without speaking. They had never been so much together, these two, and perhaps it was owing to this that they were somewhat dif ferent from other brothers in their mutual love. Mutual respect had an important place in the love they bore toward each other, and, as a rule, brotherly affection is without it. Charlie knew that his younger brother was cleverer, quicker and in every way more brilliant than him self, and he was content that it should be so. Indeed, he was proud of it—proud to he the brother of Winyard Mistley. And Winyard, the observant, was fully aware that this big, grave brother of his was a better man than himself. On this particular evening Win yard felt a strange increase of affec tion toward his brother. Never be fore had they possessed so many in terests in common; never had the thought come so prominently before hi 3 mind that too little had been said between them, too much left to the imagination. Charlie sat by the open window of the little study in a low basket-work chair, and smoked with that good natured placidity and sense of strong repose which suited so well his fair face and splendid stature. Winyard, seated near the screened fire-place, smoked more rapidly, as if to keep pace with his quicker thoughts, con suming more tobacco, enjoying it per haps less. The calm peacefulness of his brother’s demeanor quelled the words that were within his heart, bid him to be as self-contained and self-suppressing, drove back the rest less eagerness of his soul, and spoke of a quiet attendance on the course of events which was beyond his com prehension, and had no place in his character. If Winyard could on’y have seen beneath that calm and indifferent ex terior, he might have put into words the unusual thrill of brotherly lova that -warmed his heart. But English men are not made so, and the mo ment passed, never to return; the op portunity came no more, and Silence numbered another victim to her ruth less bow and spear. It is only on the stage that men have time and oppor tunity to make that little farewell speech which is to put a graceful fin ish to our comedy, clearing up the doubtful passages, explaining away misunderstandings, and mingling a prayer for charitable remembrance with the rumble of the curtain roller. It almost seemed as if Winyard Mist ley knew that this was a last chance of breaking down that invisible bar rier which stood between his broth er’s heart and his own, a barrier which was naught else but shyness and a habit of reserve on either side. It almost seamed as if his imagin ation could span the 400 miles of si lent, night-ridden land that lay be tween him and two gray-haired, grave - faced men, who were at that moment speaking of him within a little curtained room beneath West minster’s great tower. It seemed as if he could read the message ad dressed to him, and containing the mandate of an almost certain doom that lay beneath the anxious states man’s hand. CHAPTER XIX. On Duty. The following morning at the breakfast table, a telegram was hand ed to Winyard, with the intimation that the messenger was awaiting the reply. The young man broke open the envelope and read the flimsy pink paper. It took him scarcely a couple of seconds to glance over it, and he proceeded immediately to fill in the address in the reply form inclosed. All at the table noticed that there was no hesitation, no indecision in his movements, and they remembered that incident later. Then he added the single word “Yes,” and handed the reply over his shoulder to the servant. “May I trouble you for the jam?” he said, with an impudent smile to ward Mrs. Wright; and it was only after he had helped himself largely to that condiment that he tossed the telegram to his brother at the head of the table. Life had, it seemed, for him no earnest side at all. The bite of toast which Mrs. Mist ley had just placed between her strong, short teeth tasted as no toast had ever tasted to her before. It was a peculiar mixture of absolutely no flavor and a nauseating bitterness. She knew that this telegram Was im portant, and meant the end of these 'happy days; all her five senses were lost in one great throb of sad fore boding. (To be continued.) Avalanche’s Secret. An Alpine avalanche has just yielded up one of its secrets. Last January an enormous mass of snow fell from the mountains above Halle and a theological student named Becken perished in it. He was caught while making an ascent on ski. Ail efforts to recover the body f-iled at the time, but with the melt ing of the snow in tne valley it has at last been laid bare. It has been per fectly preserved ' - refrigeration, but shows marks of terrible pressure.—- I ondon Globe. GREATEST AUTOCRAT EXTANT. Power of Speaker Gannon Attacked in the House by Missouri Congressman. An attack of the power of the speak er was made in the house of repre sentative Friday by Mr. Shackelford of Missturi during the consideration of the urgency deficiency appropria tion bill. He said Speaker Cannon was the ablest, boldest champion of autocracy this age has produced, and declared that the speaker exercised “a greated despotism than exists in any monarchy in Europe.” CHANGES IN ARMY COMMANDS Ab Result of Retirement of Wood from the Philippine Division. Incident to the relinquishment by- Major General Leonard Wood of the command of the Philippine division, a series of orders were issued from the war department Friday making th® necessary channges in the subordinate commands. Orders already have been promulgated placing General Wood in command of the department of the east, with headquarters at Governor’* Island. WITHDRAWALS SWAMPED BANK. National of America, at New York, Pliced in Hands of Receiver. Comptroller of the Currency William B. Ridgely Sunday ordered the Na tional Bank of North America at New York closed for liquidation, and ap pointed Charles Hanna, national bank, examiner, as receiver. The failure and persistent withdraw als, the result, according to President Havemeyer, of insistent rumors set afloat respecting the bank’s condition. R. O. JACKSON, Attorney-at- Law, McDonough, ga. Office over Star Store. E. M. SillTH, Attorney at Law, Me Doxcugh, Ga. Office over Star Store, south side square. All work carefully and promptly attended to. Am preinared to negotiate loans on real estate. Terms easy. m is a soothing, healing balm containing no drugs hiving a narcotic effect It RELIEVES quickly and soothes the congested membranes and thoroughly heals and cleanses. Valuable not only for CATARRH but relieves colds, throat troubles, hay fever,, “stopped-up” nose, etc. We Guarantee Satisfaction. Buy a 50 cent tube of Nosen a from LOCUST GROVE DRUG CO. and get youi money back if not satisfied. Sample tube and Booklet by mail ioc. BROWN MF C- CO., Louis, Mo. Crs3onevillo.Tcn.rx*