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GALUHEFTS INDEPENDENT,
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT
Cl UI TM A IV, (i A. ,
J. C. GALLAHER.
TKK.TIH OF SUBSCRIPTION i
Jfri VO DOLL A RS per Annum t rif&wmv?.
A SmLl WbhM,
I wants ft piece of calico,
To make my doll a dress;
1 doesn't want a big piece,
A yard'll do l guess.
I wish you’d free! tny needle,
And And iny Arabic, too -
I has such lumps a sowing,
I don’t know v hat to do.
My Hi*p* \v tored her aprun
A tuLii lin down the stair,
And On s:w’ leaf his pantaloons
And needs auruuer pair.
I want's my Maud a bonAet,
Sin* hasn’t one at all.
And Fred must have a jacket,
Elis ojEJter one’s tn> small.
I warts to go to grandma's,
You premised me I might;
I know sir ’ll like to sec me—■
t Wants to go to-night.
Shi P n.c wash the ilishcfl.
And sec iaipaudpa’a watch—
Wish IM fiver four pemder.
To br.y s >n*e buttcr-acotch.
I wants Home newer mittens—
I wish .wad knit me some,
C&u* nv- st my fiugcr In ezes,
They leak so in the fum.
I wort VI Vm out last Summer,
A pallia oeorge's sled;
I wish you wouldn't laugh so—
it hurts Die in uy be.ul.
J wish 1L and a c
I’m hungry' -1 can be;
If ou hrftii’t pretty largo one;
You’d better bring me free.
SOW I DID* BETTER.
I tUiv suy that it was (Kit of h i\ react* to
my rata tul ami nifturnl superiority that i
was permitted to pack the trunk?. At any ,
rate I enjoyed doing it immensely.
•* I do believe, Ethel, that you like '
work," said Fun, at last, disdainfully
watching me.
“Of course I do! T wish J had been a !
plain girl without any ‘family position’ b
maintain; then, instead of going to visit;
Mrs. Ephin-donc and trying to get mar
ried, I emiM barn a trade."
‘‘Ethel!" exclaimed mamma, “don't rny
fsncli thing?. It i-> vulgar. I believe, you
take after your unde LeumrF"
*•1 think I must," i replied.
‘ No one can reserve refinement who in
dalges in such nuns; urical ideas. A lady
should let them alone."
“Uncle Lem "
“Has bet n the bane of ray ( Xisbume. It
m ikes my flesh creep to remember how he
hat nun-til. and me," interrupled mamma.
Jlunma w;u concocting * IVuieby k
iig Ltriu L.utiei for L. reel* ni;l of iin hi
and ends ui r;.>i*.c;s and lace left from • -u'
HtU-um.-r w.vViil''
“It is too biwi f*>r mar little* n ; >tfc< r U
liixe to use our leaving-,” 1 r< n,.. \ t ;
“8.10 ougi.t to fiuvo the very prelim si
L nmvt in He or. ‘.tv s shop.’
• No one will know this did m t c<>n,<
from there. One of 11** *>•• days 1 shall
have mote pretty things tli-m I can wiar
w heu you #uni Fa:* ii.ivc neb hoM a.ml. ,
r joined m tiittua.
“We tuink. ho much about gMiing rich
husbands, Unit I begin to four wo Mudl be
unsuccessful,” I said, half dolefully.
“You have only to nti l " the proper'use
of your opportnni'M durhfg the nest
fortuight,” L sgbed ui.tnunu gaily. ” “M. ->.
Ephiustoije’a invitation i.s ? cully providen
tial and very kind of her. And while 1
think of it,’’ added mutuum, “I* have two
piece*j of advice for y >u before you t.
Don’t compromise yourself bv flirting with
young Kpliin 4otie, for they don’t mean to
let him marry for the nv*t ten yearn; and
don’t grow t intimate with the adored
daughter, or whoever aim is, who lives
with Mrs. Ephinstonc.”
Mamma had no need to advise Fan, who
was pi as lie clay to her diplomat l a
- Fan bad great beauty and but one
idea —which worn to make a wealthy match.
As for me I hud several more Liens than
was good for me, in mamma’s opinion.
We hastened to dou our traveling robes
—old black silks which looked Miflicbuit’y
stylish still —and took our way to the
VCfjj.m.
Mamma Lurf just pureliaw-il onr lick- !>
auJ was piloting onr way through t!:;
crowd, when she h it hor shouUk-rloocliL-il,
and, turning hastily, euoouutcml until-
JLvm. He had a silk hundkercl.it f ti.-il
•about his head and alippen on his feet,
and looked both pitiful and ludicrous.
“Why, Mary, yon don’t mean to let the
girls travel alone, do you?” he asked in his
humble way. “Because I could go with
them ’’
“Lemuel!” said my mother. I shall
never forget her tone of distress, while,
for my part, the idea of uncle Lem ■
escort to Mrs. Ephinstone’s villa seemed
too ludicrous, and I burst out laughing,
while Fan stood in lofty abstraction, as
though she was not acquainted with any of
us. “Lemuel, -go hack, I insist upon it,”
said mamma, looking about fo. Mr. Eph
instoue, who was to join us at the station,
and who at the moment came in sight.
Ho recognized and hurried toward us,
in company with a genttleman of about his
owu age. He scrutinized onr evident agi
tation as he approached.
“Mv dear ladies,” he said, looking anx
iously from mamma to uncle Lem, “has
any one—is this person annoying you?”
Uncle Lem was sliukiug away.
“It is nothing, absolutely nothing,” said
mamma “He was saying some ridiculous
things lint evidently meant no harm,” and
she let it passes if our relative had been
some unknown, crazy intruder.
Mr. Egbinstone introduced his friend as
Mr. Fowler, who was going home with
him. for a few days.
’JlJe'beU was ringing; we burned to the
1 traiv. and sped onward toward our desti-
IlieS?
t'- iy (S I C |pl/1l I
VOL. li.
j Our adventures, however, during tin*
three weeks we sp*iU there ure not my
I story. I must pass them over and let you
I once morn into the little back pallor where
| the packing for our departure hud taken
! place. *
“I told you it was providential," said
mamma, going to and fro between the
pantry a id the centre table, wlrareou sin*
t was spreading ah impromptu luncheon at
three iu the !t< moon. “I felt it too,
some way, when Mr. Epbinstone was in
troducing him. Oh, Fan, my child, what
a great, good fortune for you.”
Fau was satihiieil, that was evident, with
her achievement.
She looked%n)ore consequential as Mr.
Fowler’s funany than .she had seemed
; hitherto.
“And you, too, mV happy, darling?'’
said mumiiiii, pausing to kiss me.
.“I think I am, mamma. Mr. Hitter is
only a clerk, to be sure, but you know my
views are not so extravagant as Fan’s, i
shall he content with a very moderate style
of living, and when you meet Fred you
will find him a gentleman."
t was afraid I emphasized the term a
little too strongly. I looked ut Fan, but
hei face wr s ur.rutiled.
“.it is something of a sacrifice for Ethel,"
she said, comphu--oily. I must confess 1
would have discouraged l?cr if I could.
And don’t you think, main urn, that Libel
did the very two* tilings yon told her no
to and flirted with Tom Ephinstone, and
got up such intimacy with that Maud
Manners?”
“IF s Mr. F-.wler f sail anything a bon!
the t i\ as yet 3?" inquired mamma.
“>ho had to inquire, for it was a matter
uf f.H)d and Hir-Htr, and. rntu slrnggle to
; ; t .p oui .1! horn-. l:'l we sliotilu be mar
ried.
■•Oh, yes,** r fiirned i’.muy, foldiy.
“Hu wmi vfiy rX|>ii-:it in every w.iy. IT -
would liUtt to be uiamed in October.”
•*of emirs ■ you and Mr. Hitter have not
Ullldt! any difillit.- ;>i.:UX Vet?” li'.aulllla
s..i !, with it CaVcrt ii{*|a* t-lnit tve !md.
“No,’* 1 mnas ered, ij’liti üba.slu and.
Fred, however, was just as anxious \viu*Ji
it came to the poiut to marry at once us
..Mr, Fowler.
**\Vo could have apartment* to login
with," he .'.tid. “un i Like v house for Om
2V* a- MXMI us O't; lIitMUH permit,’
Under iliumm ds mumigeim nt; v- ryihing
went idV splendidly.
Even U’.vh* L i• l math* ll toFrs'b’'.* flp
ie;UMtie, t-merging fioiu bis den in the:
j'.uirih story, where le hud li’od am.mg
iv i :et Kell ;ilul 1 eon'Ll ivu.t mb r
.. iie*,v (<f l‘Votidelotit, f i w :>•-*• por
wba-ic we thought he must h,.vu made hr.-
iuen.se sa.-riiiecs.
Oar ui\.-t.ei.itie frii iwhs all honored tu :
with tlndr pre. ej.ee.
At noon we saw Fan and Mr. Fowler
‘art for th.-ir (fotitio. nti.l tour, vvhiL-uii
.umr later l ied and i begun our l.v> pie
: trillion* bridal trip, which v/.w to lust a
week.
Luring that week our old home was sold
j and our lulls paid out. of the proceeds.
Uncle Lem was set afloat.
Minium went away to visit a niece, and
very soon contracted a second and very
; utiafactrtry marriage on her own account.
IVcple said slu- was a marvelous manager.
Having let you into this much of o:.r
; family history, f will continue with those
revelations which the romancer usually
; lets alone.
*******
I, nee- on a bright O. tuber morning, live
veer- after iny mari'icgo, that. 1 rtooil hid
ding my Lu band gooil-morning ut. the
front door. ■
•He was going to his btieines s it was flit
eh-rksliip still ami I was desirous of pay
ing some visits.
“By the way, Fred,” I remarked care
lessly, “J have nothing hut green gloves
to wear with my new brown dress. Have
yon any cash?”
“Vi s, I. have, Ethel: but I was going to
pay the liabim-r’s bid.”
“Suppose you pay him half to-day. And
von need not order anything for dinner.”
“It makes n.i: feel menu, Ethel, to let
: such a lull run on.”
“Well, I can't go out this morning in
green gloves. ”
Fred lookout the moupy mul gave me
! four shillings. He did not remark that he
w. nt bure-hnnhed, while I retlec-tcd that
there was not unieli satisfaction in having
anything when it had to be angled for in
this fashion.
Oil, that we had but it little more money
i I fervently wished. But Fred's salary was
not large, and we had nothing more.
We were always in debt somewhere, al
; ways terribly in need of something, always
: struggling not to lie behindhand with our
acquaintances. In short, we were shabby
j genteel, and we felt it keenly.
Fred would have been more comforta
i hie and more economical if ho had not
married me.
Martha interrupted my reverie for direc
tions for dinner.
“I shall not be home to luncheon,” I
said, “and you may have anything there
| i.s for din Der, and some sort of a pudding,
! if you can make it.”
I went to my bed-room. I knew that
i the dinner would consist of some waxy po
; tatoes, salt fish, and uneatable rice, and
| that Fred would fast iu disgust. But I
should have my gloves and the spray of
w snow drops which I desired to carry
i to Maud Manners by way of a bridal gift.
;It looked so mean to give nothing.
QUITMAN, G.V., SATURDAY, MARCH 20. 1875.
With this cousolation 1 proctcdtal to
dress. This was agreeable business, for J
was to wear anew dress. Oh, the wear
and tear of nerve and eyesight it had cost
me; but it was very elegant, just as hand
some as Fan’s. It became me, too, and
my hat matched it nicely. 1 was glad to
get out of the house into the cheerful sun
shine with the consciousness of being
noticeably stylish as 1 walked along—for
getting the unpaid bills ami the unpalatc
able dinner which would await my consid
eration upon my return.
My first errand was a bridal call upon
Maud Birm*y, Mrs. Lphiustone’s niece,
i against whom poor mamma hud cautioned
me on the occasion of that memorable
visit.
Maud bad been known to bo engaged to
George Birney ov. n live years ago.
He was a clerk whoso salary was not
high, and lit 1 was free with his money;
Maud had not a penny of her own, and so
they had gene on, eng iy and, ail these
years.
One day we heard they had been quietly
married, and had begun hou. ekeepiug.
There were “no curds," and with some
dillieuHy I obtained their address.
1 liked Maud too well to give her up.
Besides, I was curious to see how she and
her Ini: bund were going to manage a
poverty greater than our own.
i lie neighborhood to which I wended
my way was not attruetivo.
1 thought that Mattd would be obliged
to lose her position here. I stepped over
two or three children getting up the steps,
and found myself pulling a rickety belli
I designated leva diminutive plate. Maud
was living up btairal
No won.h r she colored slightly us she
a i/e and ii-.y hand mid led uie to hernpart
; molds.
‘ V i or, Ethel, I ntn not guile; to In: r,
' -liiip lip tb Uei-rgc. We do not mean to
.. pe,, 1 any more married we did
.-ingle, if our friend •• can't accept us here
they runs! drop 11:,.”
“I for cue ulinll not drop von, Maud, if
i only out of curiosity as to the sucres* of
your experiment, 1 have heal'd that two
could‘live more cheaply then one, hut 1
I have never seen it proved.”
We wa re fairly ill by ti:in. I in.'.si say 1
was slim lied with the lieaigi',. less of tile
iipartm: id.*,
- It’s a”, iny woik, Ethel; till tin- uphill
ry. A- I the material didn't eo-,1 us
; : ic;i as we list'd to spend in theater gorier
: rvt ry winter.”
.1 i-oui.l nut coinpri bend Maud's good
; spirits."
I thought if f uuilertook to lu-lp mv
: h .si and 1. .siiM-.ild have to find a better
way i in. n this. ,
Maud eolnliiefc.l mo, in gushing spirit*,
; : 111 •i eh lei- aparluiejita, nod the one its- and
as kite-lien Ht-.-int-ei positively tbu best of
i ml,
“Yai: appear to have a refined tmoV/’ I
<)!served, perceiving the tasteful nrrange
-1 lot'Lith an l a imaging bask**t ami u. bird in
; om* of tin* sunny windows.
“idljrl,” said Mimd, very srdfuiuly, “[
i !)‘ivi-j‘t any cook. I do it myvlf. You
don’t know bow nice wo Imvo tilings.”
“Your iiand:dear, will bo very nioo.
; Do you 1110 :11 tuftt you wash the tlislios?"
“Yoa. ami 1 don’t frel that l lower my
self. Georgn and 1 wantud niairid.
Wf tboUi'lit we should b<t lit |?i)i*.*L* (*V*n
ihoiigh this was the on’y way wo could
! livf—and wo mo. I will toll you ray con
i victions; marmge is parinorship, and the
wiic should do her j:vrt. ”
“Hut this is such nn ignnblo part,
: Maud.” I i-oul la’t help saying. “If the
wife C'-'dd creato an income by b r own
. ff.u’ts it would bo fur different. Dot
living to serve onr lowest wants, living
j vvith scrubbing-brushes and point > pur
! inprs!—l do#i believe it is right for any
Bin' to like you.”
She s’uiled that sweet smile of hors.
“Them was nothing T could do to ‘create
; income,’ Ethel. It was this or—parting.”
-•!? i . i : I!M' '■<•)• VO eu n * to la
! brought up to produce some sort of work
: that has value. The injustice : ’ I
;began.
•‘Fat you know, Elbe?, tlmt they raav
learn almost a ythiug they like. If I had
I gone when George and I were first ' Ugag
; e!, and learned engraving on steel, etching
on wood, or something of that sort for
which I had truste. we would he independent.
However, aunt Ephinstone would not hear
of it, while J lived with her. She said the
next, thing would lie I’d he declaiming wo
i man,s rights. Now it is too late to begin,”
[Raid .Maud, with her blithe smile again, as
if there were great satisfaction in her con
i elusion.
She went with rnc to the street door
when I bade her good-morning, quite
oblivious of the fact that her “bronze
brown hair was put plainly behind her
j ears, and that she wore an apron. Of
:/:ouise it didn’t make any difference in
1 such a neighborhood, but still I was shock*
e$ again; arid I got into the omnibus
which would take me to my sister’s and
! cogitated about what I had seen, and con
cluded that Maud had made a mistake.
My sister lived in the style that fortune
tellers predict and fairy tales describe.
In truth Fan looked like a grown-up
French doll us she lay back in her sumptu
ous chair. Either “beauty is ites own ex
; cuse for being” or Fan had not the slight
| est apology for being alive.
‘ Her little girl—just the age of mine, who
| lived but a brief week, would have been—
came toddling to me in her new gilt boots.
I Someway I felt the need of something
j wholesome and natural just then, and I
caught, up the child su’d gave her a pus
j sinuate, tearful kiss.
“Oil, Fun," I said, “what a safety for
! one’s heart, to have a sweet innocent child
i of line’s own."
Of course, in my sober senses I should
never have said such a thing to my sister,
!to whom a baby was tin* flaming sword
that precluded Paradise.
“Lueetta," she said, rather sharply,
“here is Clara again. Can’t you keep her
in the nursery? Soutinmnt is very pretty
Ethel," she added, when the door closed
upon gilt, boots in a rimuriublo state of ;
activity, “but I should cull it very fortunate <
that you have no such care until Fred gets !
| along a little. You :* ! \' changing shock- 1
inglv with all that you hate upon you.”
“Fun, 1 am a little doubtful whether
people ought not to change; whether it j
f isn't their duty to ,v ear out the least little'
; hit! lam so tired of thinking of my form
hind my complexion. Sometimes I wish I
; had something else to do."
Mv sinter opened her infantile, azure
eyes to their widest, as if sho meant to say |
“lllr'S my. soul," or something simitar, i
But she merely dropped the white lid.
after a second ami remarked:
! “i suppose you and Fred have been
! quarreling. 1 wouldn't-'do it. It spoils
! your expression. When Mr. Fowler makes
little speeches about extravagance and
| waste- i suppose men always make them -
1 never answer. Then he is sorry, and
| brings me a bracelet or something to make
I'T-” .
“But Ftt'd enu t bring me bracelets, and
|so I have to take my satisfaction in sharp
words."
I’.in put on h r exporien.'vd look.
“Depend upon it you don’t gi t half us
much out -f Fred ns you-might. You’ve j
no idea how I manage. Now I would have j
had a siik pottle at v.ith that cashmere*!
dress if 1 had been ymi." .
1 got up and walked across the room to j
examine t*. new cabinet and end tin: con I
vcr.-vitioii! F> -meliow Idi In’t envy Far, a.,,
muon as ifr-o.?i:l. 1 almost despised her. j
Luncheon was ready, but 1 would not [
stay. Usually it gave mo lostlmiic plena- [
hit to lunch with Fan. i glanced ut tin*
table, with it-' superb cloth, Bohemian
glasses, silver Htandaid, grape-, choco
late the least of Jhimiesivle-—and went on
At the foot of Fail’s palatial steps ; food
an elderly man, wrappi and in a gray shawl, i
with ne*: gue l and- cnca -ed in rugged I
black gtos'es. 1 Lit! ■ -•■•n the apparition j
before, and from force of h-ahtt my heart :
stood still with consternation.
Tie re was no retreat, however, uncle
Lein Knew me.
“Why. how and > you do. Elbe]?" h * .••■aid
in his shy way. looking about wit it Lie :
link* bright eyes as a euittiy iiird does.
“Fretly well, iuiels la in. Weiv you !
iji >i;.- in V”
“Why, iw*--v:-;. i just happened to
come tins way."
It, toUeln-d me to see him crawl back so
ag in and again to just because we;
were kin - always repulsed, ignored, in- '
.salt'd, and yet fio;u time to time crawling (
bite!;.
‘•Fanny is very busy, uncle Lem, and
she’s not well either," 1 raid. “Sappoae '
you go linii * WiFi me this raorning to j
lunch; you can eali 1.-ere again."
“Oh, isn’t convenient.? Y-'s," he raid, |
in his que.ej*. knowing way, winking at nnn
“Go with you? Why, yes. If you’re not I
obliged to hurry we will stop at- my room
and get my specs. Perhaps" in Ids un
certain way ‘ I don’t need this," feeling I
Ill's shawl.’ “It doesn't look so well to
"walk With ft lady." alld he mailed in hit* j
weak, painful, pul-down fashion.
1 humored uncle Lem. It wnuldn’fctpako
much ddten nee when 1 got home. Be
sides -dear me, do v\o always have a mu-‘
fish motive Jit the bottom of our b . f acts?-
it drifted through my mind tlmt. this lonely, |
dreary, dreaded old jh oi. niy motlier’s bro- ;
thur, had been a man of Flea >, an inventor,
v.ho * inveulions fc.iird; that he hud know n :
a good many braiu-wo; k< rs, women and;
men, and must be acquainted with the I
processes by which they woiked; that per- i
imps his information in &uch things might |
help me.
All this, I say, drifted through ray mind
as I accompanied him to his lodgings on ,
mv way home.
AYe went into his room—dt struck me!
that 1 was having glimpses into diver e
interiors that morning. Uncle Lem made!
a modest and futile attempt, to diq.uLe
the circituislancc that, liis bed was unmade.
I did not look at it though, there were
more curious things to s c a table con
taining retorts, bj*‘W-pipes, a cof!**c-jwt,
and some F’rencli rolls; a wire contiecling
two batteries on which h vend mlk hand
kerchiefs were hung to dry; a little shelf 1
containing boxes, toba *co, pipes, and sun
dry other articles vvhieii l iniglit tmt have i
.seen if uncle laUU had not m cle an at
tempt futile, like his attempt upon the;
bedclothes to cover out of sight-.
“Uncle Lem," said I, abruptly, “what
do you think d' women?"
“My dear. ! 1 .lidu’t quite hear you,"
replied the old man.
“I mean about their capacities. For
instance, did you ever know a woman like
m * who could do anything to make
money V"
“Money, iny dear," he replied, with his
weak, pitiful smile, “what do you want of
money?"
That certainly was h leading question,
and in ordei to answer it i had to be con
fidential..
It was astonishing how* uncle Lera’s
pitiful looks and warn slipped oil* as we
both got in earnest. I think he rehoai'sed
pretty well all the achievements of women,
from Scmiramide down to Mrs. Tuckctr.
“But what could I do, unde Lem if I
knew how?"
“Bless rue! Tjio way is to do well
you undertake. If I wits young -"
“Yes, if you were young and in my
place?"
“Well, bless me! I’d go into an insti- ,
tutiou "
“YLs ’’
“And look around’"
.“Unde Lem, let us go."
The memories of that morning eoino
back to me; they shine like duath-light
over a grave—-the grave of my helplOss im
becility.
We walked from room to room in the,
! institute. The atones .seemed to quicken
with life-purpose, to emit the fragrance of
| just actions.
j lam not going to particularize in which
j branch of art or science I found my special
vocation that day. If, is enough for ray
■dory that i got the “have" winch Mrs.
Browning bids us seek “to work." It was
not too lute for me to begin," au Maud
1 said.
My spil lla soared in cestacy.
The way was open; I need* not conk the
! dinner mu* declaim women’a rights, nor
I for a drtv-s or bonnet. I could
drill my brain tools, and uso them and do
better.
My own practical dibit ulty was to pursue
my studies without Fred’s knowledge, ut
least until 1 had tested myself, and knew
that l should succeed, and this difficulty
solved itself after the following la-hiou:
Uncle Ij au, being cheated out of luncheon,
went home with mu to burner.
* \ i;u seem to have n deal of room hero,
Ethel," remarked uncle. Lem as ho pre
pared to go, (ho dreary, lon.some look:
coining hack to his lace. “I pay rent, !
have to keep that right." Something m 1
my face nn. t have led him on, fur lie con- i
tinned: “If yen wouldu’t mind me,
Ethel I’d keep out of the way you know. >
1 might bo useful —light the lire and do a '
good many things for you."
111. little eyes got iuuniug bright,--and i
his thin gray hair shook. He begged, |
with his eyes amt lmir and posture—hog
ged as feeble, unsuccessful unii ami wo- j
men do.
1 will not protend Hint my feelings were
greatly aliVcied, but i had mv< r wholly
■mured the family antipathy to uncle lb. ui.
lYrhnpri l was u little like him, a.-* iiiuuiiiiii
; hud Mini. However, J kept sight, of the
iuet what lie was a droll ligu’.e, aud that.
- my bienTls would laugh at him.
This would have been decisive but for
I another c-i M-uh ration. Wo had “toll it
j not iu (huh, win per u not in A-kelm”
•i gentleman lodger in our front chamber,
wiio.-e- existence, whose uiseovery was the
I tsword of lire suspended above my head,
i Uncle I.em might, take his place, and my
i mind be relieved. And uncle Hein did so.
Fred made few comments o.\< . pt that it
; was “iteneed hard to tel! the nature of a
| woman, atnl no mistake.” Mere was this
| old man whom tan ami t had been dodg
ing all o il' lives as if he weft* a plague and
! now 1 had brought him to live under my ,
j roof. He supposed next I would beget
ting his portrr.it painted for Iho parlor
wril!.
Yb*!l. I really think l ought, for anew
; t*a beguti with his coming. 1 went to
work to learn, as once i had said 1 should
like to, a U'livli* 1 a resource whercilf to
spend my energies, a stimulant to my s- ]f- •
improveiiicut, a uare, tie I'm' ray
far? ions.
Tin re was hard wnvk for me without. ie
t.urn ail that winter, I ki tit my plan a
secret fvom all hut uncle Li*m. I think j
i.Oinetiuj' a I might have given up but for !
him. I.'et;r old < uthusiaJ that he was!;
!Io >v g.lihly lie old his theories of success, i
At !■. l ’. t M. y 1> e[and up my spirits.
I don’t know wiiellu r or not Fred notic
ed the infrequency m my demands for
money ibid wiui'-r. I won- my eld dress i
e.i, and and -elined all invimtiona to huge j
p.iities. i said to mv.elf that t. would;
give him i clifiuce to catch up. Jtwfis;
juther late in t!:e day for this cimnce. The
number of debts wo lmd made were apal- '
ling. hi t soon as we b-.’;.:au to pay they 1
hailed and ovn upon us. Wo should* have
got through, I suppose, except for FredT j
misfortune. O’n an icy morning in Feb- j
runvy he lei! and broke his ankle.
[i Mirni-'il lend enough for him to bear !
tin* eoutinefnent and pain. To Uiese were j
ad-i- 'l tin* cnit.'-ider.itioji oft! : dor’s :
bid and tliiMiii'acl of losing his situation. '
lie lent a secret torment, too, poor fed- !
low, which I learned of later; he fancied
that my love for him was growing cold, ;
that he w.m less deal to me because he did ;
not prosper.
One by one these troubles have chaired j
up, so there is no need of dissecting their i
>i;< 1 -ss memories. L<t me hasten to the;
more pleasant task of de jielling the gloom j
which seemed cmp enough one morning!
in March when Fred’.-; employer called on \
his way to business with a look on his face j
that seemed to me oininus and made me 1
watch for his departure ami hasten to my i
husband, lb* was deadly pale, fora low,
nervous fever in connection with the frue- ;
litre, had weakened him sadly.'
“Well, Ethel, the worst lias com' 1 ,” he
Whl as !. enter'd.
“You have lost your place, Fred?”
“i's. Mr. Mohs has paid me half of
my salary for this quarter. He says they
have bet n hoping I would get Wei!, that
everything is getting askew with my work
in the hands of a temporary clerk, and
that they have engaged Hillings in ray
place. ”
I w.is silent for an instant.
“Well, dear, we must not despair,” I
said.
•*I don’t see mvn h room for hope while
debts are accruing and me helpless.”
**We are young and strong, I red.”
j wis on the point of betraying, my
secret when the postman’s knock inter-1
v ip ted me, and J. stepped to the door to
receive my letters.
There were several tlmt morning, and
one. in a strange hand which I fairly
clutched *hs j opened ir. It ran:
Di-iAE Madam.--Your specimen of work
is received with favor. Vvo should like
mole of equal merit. Enclosed is our
cheek for twenty-live pounds, which we j
hop" will remunerate you.
i put the letter in silence into Fred’s
hands. He was not half so much elated as
I felt he should he. When in* understood
he said it didn’t seem just the thing, to
him, for a w. man to pay the expenses.
“M<> t. of them hear tin ir share of the
burden in some measure. Fred. \\ by may
tney not do it in the most congenial way?”
“i believe you take alter your uncle !
L in a JiMle bit, Ethel,” said Fred, with n
smile as mother had said once before.
“Y'*u have taken that croquet from him,,
i ii warrant.”
“Why, that reminds me,” said 1, “that
1. have’ncither lieunl nor seen him this
morning, 1 must go to his room.”
Uncle Lem wus always a late liser, but,
( it was liow long after his usual hour.
When I knocked at his door there was
no reply. Again and again I knocked, j
Still no answer, and the door was locked
from within. j
I went back to Fred, who got up, hob- j
bled across the passage with his cane, and
succeeded in turning the key with a pair ;
of pincers.
The room was very quiet, iu its custo
mary disorder, and straight and silent on j
the bed lay uncle Lem.
I approached him, awed all at once by
the composure- and unusual dignity of his
placid face. I touched his hand and stag
gered back.
“Fred. Miele Lem is (lend!"
It was true. He was dead. The worn
spirit lmd tied; the vacant heart was still.
Door unch* Lem; he had given up all to
jin idea; h.-d its failure or sueecsi mattered
at the lust!
The old man’s desk was open, and a
letter lay in sight, directed to uhel Hitler
—to myself. It, whs some hours before 1
opened if with a dreary curiosity as to his
In* I bequest.
Words cun hardly express the shock of
wonder with which I di.vcou j rt*d whut this
bequest was.
I ne’e Lon-had died rich and 1 was lira!
In ire.-:*. TANARUS: is id.-u, on wiiich the reaiiiea- ;
Lon oi liis |it> had- been expmidcd, had
been recogniz-d and appreciated when j
the thing-, of tliis fife were no lunger pre
cious in ids uvus.
He lat 1 found hinraefl wenlttiy when
W(*a!t!i had no longer auy attraction, when
! m fact- it would only doom him to insih-
I <‘ere attentions. What he hungered for
I was a little love. Ilia money could not
| buy that.
“Aon played your game well, Ethel,"
was Fan’s comment upon my inheritance.
I allowed it t. pass without reply.
“You see tlint Heaven helps those \\h’o
: !ie!p themselves, dear," raid Maud Birney,
whom I had taken into ray confidence
| about my work.
1 have aid that I felt as if undo Loin’s
i portrait ought to hang upon iny parlor
I wall -not beeaUso his gift. Inis enriched us,
j nude our lives peaceful and our ways
jpl-iiNunt, so much as because it seems to
on* that by that chance meeting at Fail’s
i’uhos;eliil!c* door 1 Gerald never have
km w nthe delights of having nerve and
will strung up to action, because it seems
as if uncle .1, m’s counsel on that eventful
day was the spink which find the train,
and that, but for him I should still lie in
triguing for small bills, turning my dresses,
despising myself, and di-s.-Midicd with my
existence.
As it. is 1 have a higher .plain walk of
my own which the possession of a dozen
fortunes could not tempt me to abandon. ;
W. IF F.
ITwl£ CXJPw COLOUABO COBRESPOTD-
I3NT.
Bio G r.ANDE, Col., February.
Ed Her (f t\>>. hulrpcm’eui :
Before eoinineneing my journey home
ward, w hich. l > r(>vidcnce permitting, I pro
pose to do before many moons shall till
and want', I thought a few items in regard
to that peculiar people, the Mexicans, lie
banging as they do to no one of lie five
iv; agnized i .i.ee.'. yet, being ns distinct in
character and nationality us either, might
not prove uninteresting to some of your
readers as well as yourself. 80, of wlmt I ;
know about, it, t he following is a part :
Borne three hundred yt ars ago, accord
ing to the bed of my recollection, (l was
! quite small at the time,) theAstec Indians.
: then aq-owei I’ul nation, inhabited a vast re
gion of country abundant iu its nntuivJ re- •
sources of ugnc*.:d oral, pastoral and mine
ral wealth, genial and pleasing to the eye ;
tiny ln;d built tie :nselves towns, citiesand
roads; they had schools,. P-mpi-as ami
places of tuiiU.semout ; tiny wore consider- j
jihly advanced in th:.* arts and aeicnecs, and
history tells us they were governed by a i
pood and wise momirch ; living’in ii favored 1
land under favorable auspices, they were
rich, contented and happy.
“ Then OurtoK came, willi sm’ord and flame,
Anti a t one hlo.v proud Bb xluo
Was humbled iti the din;t.”
Hordes of Spaniards now flocked from
the Old AYprhl, sprejuliivg over and identi
fying them.solves with the newly conquer
ed country, intermixing and intermarrying
with the nations, and before many genera- !
lions had passed uwavt.he result was anew
nice of people, ImlMudian, half Spaniard, !
the Spanish-A-dre, the Mongrel, the Mex
ican.
In stature, ho is not so large or heavily ;
built its tin* average American, but finely ’
formed, straight-limbed, active and endu
ring, it is ji rare tiling to see. a corpulent l
Mexican, obcaity being considered rather ,
ji defurraity and a misfortune than other- \
wise.
In complexion, lie is about the color o!
a half-cooked ginger-eake, though it is no
: uncommon thing to see Ahem as light as a
I dark-skinned white man. As with the H&-
\ liors, so with the senoras and Hi'iioritas,
i they are a i.hado under the size-of their
| pale-faced sisters of tin* Last. In eomplex
; ion, however, as a general lilte, they are
! lighter than the men, being less exposed
t the. sun. Many of tin; women, e.spe-!
; eiiih'y those of the upper chiss. have pret
ty, regular features, are perfect in form,
| extremely graceful in moveim at and i;;dy
j like in di-nu*an<-r. \Y: h them, lmslliH, _
[corsets, chignons, and such like tom
foolery, are t ntindy ignored. ) speak ad
visediy in tills matter, having itc .ved my
inf.-rraation from a friend whef knows all
about it. He Hsiy.s b*’s been there and
helped e/itcli ’em. However, nil Mexicans
'arc fond of flashy dre-s, nr n as well us
women, and though afVecting the Ameri
can style, you have no trouble in (k feeling
a touch of the Indian on all occasions—-a
red scarf around the waist, hutsMeeorated
with feathers, gloves and moccasins em
bumb led with beads, and with the women
;i profusion of ; aedy jt welj’V,. gay coloied ,
shawls worn over the head, jvindow-eurta.in
calico for dres-.. y, AV. it is very rare that
a Mexican is found living to himself, that j
•ix, has a a. pa rub- laochu and buildings.;
They congregate in piazzas mid towns vu- j
rying in numbt r of ininib'itaiits Iron) one
diumlred to ono thousand. This habit ot
living in communities originated with them
many centuries ago for the purpose of bet- >
ter protecting themselves against the war
like Iribes of Indians along their border, ;
who, from lime immemorial, have niade ,
raids into the Mexican country.
Their settlements arc always on some j
water course, and their farms otten extend j
aa much iis five miles on each side of the
piazza. When the season comes for plant
mg, which, in this country, commences
about the middle of April, or first of May,
they move out from the piazza camp mar
their fields and commence work. And now,
in vain4sas invention created arts and ge
nius startled the world with its wonderlul
achievements. Tiunv which has revolu
tionized empires and remodeled the old-es
tablished customs of many nations, imsjei't
the Spanish-Astec, us si farmer, the mi- !
clianged image of his ancient lathers. He ;
is still the muQ of two thousand years ago.
The new invvntiou.s for tilling the soil and
Having labor have been tendered him with
out cost, that ho might test their utility
and profit thereby, out to purpose. In
contemptuous pnde lie folds his arms and
sees the world and its improvements pass
by. He beholds the wonderful inventim.H
of the last low eenturiea, showing (be jow
or of mind over matter, with the frigidi- v
Of indoleueo and the inditterence of con -
tempt. Almost side by side the AiperiA u,
, cultivating the soil with his sulky plow,
do. .< he plod along with n yoke of ox.-h
, drawing si forked stick, and often in full
j view ! farmers who are using fhe mowing
machine, can he be found cnititig higrain
rid) a : up hook. For a threwlilng im
chine, ho uses sheep, making them tread
! the grraiu out with their feet. For a fan
i ning machine, he ustm the w inds of heaven,
! carrying his wheat to tin* house-top and
Paring it down, that 11if chaff may bo
blown away But, for all this, tbo Moxi
ears iir a * happy and contented aa f.ny
! ji*op! * under theivn fc They do'iiot troublo
. Uiemselyes to any great, extent about tho
i’brirc, but make the best of fife present.
Wlio can gainsay thisjdrilffcwiphy V Wh u
harvest iu over, they let urn with their
: grain and other produce to the piazza.
Wifi ter has now probably commonPri), and*
iißu also coinie.-iiC'-a the* season of enjoy
: * f - U’oek-:igliiing, horse-racing, card
idayiugaml the fandango lire the principal
luu.-vi mi n variod now and then with a
dog or ji iml) tinht. And o witfi the fa(m
‘■i''* pa" * a .vay tise winter. Not so easy
1 t:i;i■ •, however, has the stock man anil
i!-• Mu < p-herder. Jb* is out at all times
NO. 4b.
*iid in all weal tier, tiie shepherd remaining
'■Hi hi, uliet-p ni lit mid day the year
j nraud.
* lo • • hoi! ; . ;irc built chiefly of
-oh-be m dri -d brick, mr*dy ever iuore
1 Mum a !o*V id;.'.. inside and
| whitewashed Wtth a bind of white earth.
i ou aealoui lind chairs, tables or bedsteads
i in their dwelling:;. The miit‘iasses, bJank
< ts, t ie., used furlieds, are arranged around
Hie apartments, : ud s< rve in the day time
i. i solus, lounges, Ac., thus dob g double
duly.
The Mexican women are \\ ry Udy hnnse
!v t'pers, and considering they are savages,
could teach some of tin ir more civilized
white citizens tunny valuable 1 ‘hkouh in
nejit-U';s. l! ia said the Mexican women
have a great partiality for American geu
tlom<M], though my own experience does
not justify the assertion;
Many Amerieim; who have lived in tbo
countiy fora number of years have Mexi
can v. ivi. , and, for nil J know, are satisfied
wii.h the arrangement. Asa class, theme
cluir.i; ■ are ignorant ; p.uh :,ps one out of
a do/. mi can read 4 write ; not more. They
’ are alt good horsemen, though, perlinp*.
not so grac.-d'ui as the Wotern American.
The pnalorainiitii:greligion is Homun Gatli
lic. Tin* pcopli* are nntnmlly very supei
■4i!io;is, and,
much pn . Briiku ii. They have among
tlu m a pecuiiiir sect or order known a* the
/Yv.'/.V/oVs*. Tin y boh ; g to the Bounin
church, though I umb-islund the priests
do not illt'yei her approve of some of their
ceremonies./ They believe in doing pen
ance, and that by suffering in tlu* flesh and
con!. :, ion, they will receive pardon for all
■ ins committed. Thu following will tx
p'ain something iu ivm.nl to these tarait
ivßeing in one of their piazzas, and
learning Ihafc it was the day lor one of
Ilnur performances, I went to see it. They
we:a* just emerging !Y< m a large adobe
building, vlmre tin y hold their pow-w'ows.
Fir.-.t Ciieic four im n clad in long, white
u">w .. . i tdi lioluing a stall’, tilt: cud of
which was 1 e!cued to the corner of a can
opy of wlrito > bdh. which was held over
their heads. Next .eatue an iunividuui
dress(*d in p-imilar costume, and having an
image of the Virgin Mary and In taut Je
sus. He look liis station under the center
of tin* canopy. Next cumo seventeen men
barefooted, bareheaded and naked to the.
waist. They Ixe r upon their backs and',
shoulders large wooden crosses, seemingly
a lend for ji mule. Next is one mail, the
biggest .'‘inner of all, L think, lie is wrap
ped around and almost entirely covered up
with rope, half uco 1, apparently, having
be, n used for the purpose. lie is so tan
gh (I itud mixed up xx illl rope as to be scarce
ly able to navigate. Next came six men
strip- fd like their predecessors, and car
rying in their Laima thongs of raw hid<V
and bundles of switches. Behind is the.
mu-ic, consisting of a fife, a small one
lieaded kettle drum, with n horrible rat
tling sound, and a fellow with a large old
fnshioned watchman's rattle. This noise
is, as l learn, fur the purpose of drowning
the. cries and groans of the penitents as.
they undergo their self-inflicted torture.
Accompanying the “out-fit" are seven at
tendants, carrying water in canteens for
th * relief of those who may faint by the
way. Having proceeded some two hundred
yard;;, the fellow# with the raw-hides,
thongs and withes begtfi to whip them
selves terribly. The destination of the pr>
cession is a cross, which has been erected
ou the. brow of a LilFperbaps half a mile
distant. The §ei:t!emeu with the crosses
have various 1 succe. often falling from
fatigue. They arc n. sßted by the ait ml
unta to arise, and try it again. The jour
ney to the cress occupies about lmlf au.
lio ir. during which time some of them
g t pretty 1 .ally hiu;.*cd and bunged tip,
mid ih * fellows willi the raw-hide thongs
make the blood fly pretty lively. Arriving
at Hi * cross, they ail fall on their faces and
go through ii lot of mummery for half an
hour more. They then reform the proces
sion in rather ii .straggling manner, and
muv" iusi nr. bi l they can to the piazza.
Irj tlm coiasu of time, they all reach tlu
point from w hence they started, except tlm
uno dime up in rope, lie fainted and felt
about half way from tile cross, and'it was
neet -ary to cut the roja r. to save his file,
and this only prolonged it a short time.---
lit* hud ruptured a blood vessel and died
the same night. The in xt morning in- w;.s
wrapped in a blanket and buried on the
hill-eid without u coffin. Buch arc the.
peiiitentes.
It esinnot be claimed that the Mexicans,
as a race, have many admirable traits of
.character. In business they are entirely un
it liable. Tiny are malicious, vindictive
und treacherous. To their category of vir
tues. which is i short oue, honesty and
Irnthiuine; s do not belong. However,,
they ure. hospitable uid friendly to strart
;•* us, ami are. sometimes devoted friends.
L’hey rt-jx-ct and fear Americans, and,
like the Indian, me watching with jealous,
eye the- steady advance of civi.ization,
and well they may, for does not this ter
rible man with' i p ile lace already look
beyond the bright waters of the Bio Giunde
dri Norte, and, with covetous longing, be
hold the bright an d fertile valleys of Mex
ico ? And is not this he , Die Anglo Amer
ican. the Northman of the Goths, the bux
ou of Germany, the Englishman oi Ameri
ca, the same bold, hardy, energetic, inge
nious, invincible, ambitious and adven
turous bring whose genius tlm fornix
of ji civilization cannot confine, ami.
to whose dominion continents are inade
quate ? In what hour of time or limit of
space shall this man of the Moderns, this
conqueror over laud and sen* over nations
and governments, find rest in the comple
tion of his mighty progress ? Commencing
hi march iu the cold regions of the North,
no ice chills his blood ; no wilderness de
lays liis steps ; no labor wearies his imlu -
try ; no arms arrest his march. Over com -
tries and over kindoms, overt;.yd and over
seas, in heat and cull, and wilderness and
flood, amidst fhe desolations ol dec ase m and
the decay of death, this pa e luce m wesou
iu might and majesty, steady as the f0...-'
steps of time and fixed as the deeretra ot
fate. But —“ I’m gwine back to Georgy. ’
Vo mv truly, A. V. i‘..