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About The Rockdale banner. (Conyers, Ga.) 1888-1900 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 2, 1897)
THE DAYS OF LONG ACO. In pensive mood I often sit through evening hours aglow And think of all the happy days that passed dreamsjof in years ago; I love in fancy to recall those joyous and live them yore, o’er ando er. To visit past remembered scenes roll My eyes are growing dimmer with the years that away, My step is slow and feeble, and my locks, alas! are gray; Yet when in pensiveness I sit I feel again the glow Of youth that thrilled my happy heart in days of long ago. In days of long ago, alas! how joyous was my lot, Those dear old scenes and happy dreams shall never be forgot; The world was (Hied with music and with blossoms ever fair, Anil beamed a loving welcome ever courteous and rare. A happy song of cheer rang forth from every leafy tree, Tjii every mountain, every dell, was echoing with glee; One blest sweet melody divine charmed all this earth below And rose afar to skies above in days of long ago. The days of long ago—alasj how distant now they seem, The past is hut a memory, a dear, remembered dream; The future brings us palsied age and many bitter tears, All hopes and joys have long since passed through dim, receding years. And yet it does a mortal good to muse o’er youthful days, To tread in fancy once again life’s unforgotton ways; And that is why I often sit through evening hours aglow And dream again of happy days—the days of long ago! Eock Gazette. —Sidney Warren Mase, in Little £ THE HONORABLE ANNE.* -K I $ By EDITH ALLANDALE, <s> 7*\ M Mil II come came, GING’S a when bride, wel¬ to I the ranch was 1 //.A not the warmest. ‘&M- m ,« him wa , into throwing pictur¬ esque relief, he stood on the ranch-house ver¬ anda, his face full of suppressed ex¬ citement. “You telle me,” he muttered, “who boss, now Mr. Allandale get mallied?” “All same as before/’ was my ready rejoinder. The crafty features relaxed, and Ah Ging disappeared kitchenward, his pig-tail having struck the dominant note in my first impressions of Va quero Water. Cedric smiled at me approvingly. “Glad you were so diplomatic, else he’d have left by the morning stage. It’s awfully unromantic, darling, but the drive has made me beastly hun¬ gry. Let’s see what the old chap has for us.” We dined in a long, low room, hung with spurs and sporting prints, sou¬ venirs of English days, the happiest couple in California. In its lack of excitement, ranch life proved disappointing. Lynchings were unknown—bandits and despera¬ does conspicuous by their absence. So life flowed on, smoothly, monot¬ onously, till after the birth of Billi kius. Ah Ging then announced his de¬ parture. “Better girl cook,” he de¬ clared. “No likee baby. Heap tlouble. Allee time cly.” The next Celestial left after a hasty glance at the kitchen wall. “Meflaid,” he explained, pointing to a red hiero¬ glyphic unfortunately unnoticed by us. “Ah Ging ho write, ‘Debbil in this house. y iy “He moant the baby,” suggested Cedric. “He say debbil. Me go. No China boy stay here. Heap scared of deb¬ bil.” “Try a girl,’’implored Cedric. “It’s no joke driving ten miles a day to the station.” We tried, in turn: Gretchen, who left within the week to “learn relig¬ ion;” Bridget, who declined working under an Englishman; the widow, whoso tears, as she recounted her woes, sizzled over the stove; Dieie, who disliked low wages, though she found no fault with me, and Saman¬ tha, who objected to the lack of “scenery.” Useless to point out the Brush Hills’ mellow charm, distant mountains, oak-dotted meadows, Sa¬ mantha remained obdurate. “It may *vut you, Mrs. Allandale,” she con¬ tinued, pityingly, “to see nothing but land. I like it like it was in Tulare. There you kin see houses thick as peas in a pod au’ people passin’ all day. That’s the scenery for me, so I guess I’ll pack my freight.” Which she proceeded to do, and had barely driven out of sight when a young girl, tall, slim and neatly dressed, stepped on the veranda. “If yon please, ma’am,” she quiet¬ ly said, “I heard that you wanted a girl; can I have the place?” I heard her history, which was simple. The previous year she had come from England to join her broth¬ er on a claim, had fallen ill, had gone to the county hospital at La Huerta, had come thence to me. While hear¬ ing these details, Cedric returned. But one conclusion could be drawn from his utter dejection. “No girl,” was stamped on every feature. Sa¬ mantha had recommended me to Odessa Green, who, less exacting in regard to scenery, was willing to leave the family pig-pen for a month’s change, provided the washing was put out, Mrs. Allandale helped with the dishes, the afternoons were free, and a horse every Sunday was at her dis¬ posal. I knew the type, ignorant, slatternly, familiar. Contrasting with it the new-comer, my resolution was taken. “No, Cedric, I have a servant already.” “Where did she come from?” “La Huerta, where she has been in the hospital.” “Is she pretty?” “That’s an irrelevant question. Yes, rather—blue eyes and short, curly, yellow hair.” her.” “You know nothing about “But I know that Billikins has the whooping-cough. I must nurse him, and you can not cook. Help is needed, and behold Anne. ” “So that’s her name?” “Yes, Anne James.” He still demurred. “Prudence is an admirable virtue, Cedric, but you carry it to au ex¬ treme.” Cedric yielded, still holding to his own opinion. “Keep her! Keep her!” he cried; “but remember, if anything happens, be it on your head.” Since the days of Ah Ging, life had not been worth living. Annie came, and comfort followed after. Capable, retiring, a vague sense of mystery pervading her, she proved in our monotonous existence a source of in¬ exhaustible interest. “I scent a romance?” Cedric de¬ clared; “when Anno draw-s near, find find out about her.” “She is so reticent—a contrast to Samantha. ” “Teach her something. Learning unlocks a woman’s tongue.” So Anne was instructed in more housewifely mysteries, and grew more communicative. But Cedric received all details of her past with scornful in¬ credulity. “Papa” was a barrister. Anne herself had been born in the sacred precincts of the Temple. Their crest figured as a dove. “Fancy one’s parlor-maid having a crest,” he ejacu¬ lated. For a briefless barrister he had done singularly well, marrying a niece of the celebrated Countess of Melligan. Many a torrid afternoon was whiled away with descriptions of the Irish castle where the wedding took place, the beauty of the bride, the eccentrici¬ ties of the noble aunt. Cedric scoffed, still crying for more. Ojie languorous September day, en¬ sconced in the veranda’s shadiest nook, we gazed on the Brush Hills and sighed vainly for a breeze. Cedric broke the stillness. ‘"What about Anne? No news of late?” “She has a sister who lives in France and is possessed of independ¬ ent means.” A look of reproach shot from his dark-blue eye. “You told me that last week,” he murmured. “And did not tell you that she goes by the name of the Lady Emily Brown.” < < Brown! Why, she married a Frenchman,” “True.” “Why lady? What title has he?” “None. I particularly asked Anne.” “Absurd! He could not be ‘Brown’ or she ‘lady,’ unless, indeed, the title is in hew own right. In that case your pearl of a handmaiden is au ‘honor¬ able!’ The Honorable Anne brings out the tray,” he added, as she ap¬ proached our corner, “No, it’s all false, you may depend upon it. Ask McPherson what he thinks; he is com¬ ing up the drive.” Fergus McPherson—caution person¬ ified—opined that Annie had lied. He put it plainly: “Deceitful in speech, deceitful in deed. Better watch her, Mrs. Allendale.” My suspicions were not excited. In California nothing is impossible. Had not a scion of a lordly house died on a neighboring ranch—a lonely, neglect¬ ed sheep herder? No. It was the uneasy air and restless look increas¬ ing day by day. I heartily wished for patched some pretext whereby Cedric, dis¬ into La Huerta, might inquire into the antecedents of the Honorable Anne. Chance favored me. “McPherson has been telling me,” began my spouse, a few days later, “about some bloodhounds in town that belong to the sheriff. They are A1 at tracking criminals—borrow them all over the State. Beastly shame it's such a journey—it would be rather jolly to see them.” “Why not go? A change would do you good."’ “Go! And who would milk the cow?” “I, myself.” Nonsense!” “You? “Who is the sheriff?” I idly asked, meditating my next move the while. “Waite—Hiram Waite.” , “Our Honorable,” who had entered, bearing that ranch stand-by, a smok¬ visibly ing bowl of “mush,” started, growing pale—fresh food for uneasiness. Clearly, to learn the art of milking was imperative. The woman won, as usual, and Cedric, before the week was over, started for La Huerta, with strict injunctions to interview both hospital superintendent and sheriff. In charge of the ranch were myself, Billikins, and the 1 Honorable Anne. Uneventfully passed the first few days; but on Monday, from the veranda, I espied a band of men, who, leaving the county road, came slowly up the drive. Anne, perceiving them, grew white to the lips, and, bearing Billikins, pre¬ cipitately fled. leader began, “Good evening,” the as he lifted his sombrero. “We’re a kinder rough sight for a lady. You see, we’re a posse over from Tulare, trying to find a man named Smith. His tracks, -they seemed to p’int this way. Ain’t seen any stranger round here lately?” “No, indeed.” “No wood-chopper nor nothing?” “No, none. What ha3 this man done? What does he look like?” “Beal nice and young and kind. Not more’n a boy. Murdered a man over there. Here’s his description,” and he handed me a coarsely printed “Reward.” Well, boys, get a move on. We’re on our way to La Huerta,” he added, “to borrow Waite’s dogs. Well, good day, ma’am. Better not harbor any strangers.” A moment more and, left alone, I thought over the situation. Cedric gone, no neighbor near, and a mur¬ derer at large whose steps “p’inted this way.” Suddenly it was borne in upon me that Anne was the fugitive. A firm believer in woman’s intui¬ tions, yet hoping desperately that mine was at fault, I unfolded the paper the sheriff gave me. It tallied well. Moroseness, agitation, all were explained. Did Anne guess that her identity was known, my life, I feared, would pay the penalty. To ignore the situa¬ tion, live through the night if possible, and trust to someone turning up in the morning was all that could be done. ' Milking-time brought fresh terrors. How guard one’s self, with both hands engaged letting down floods of warm, innocent milk? Dinner was eaten hurriedly, with the same feeling of uneasiness, Billikins tucked in his crib, Anne retired early, and, every sense on the alert, I was left alone to watch the nursery door. It fascinated me. Who would open it? Anne, to hide among the canons till the posse had returned to its Tulare home? Or Henry Smith, to make an end of me and flee? Truly, the ranch monotony vvas broken at last, Sol emnly the clock ticked, slowly the hands went round, an hour passed. A movement in the adjoining room, and literally my blood ran cold. That had hitherto seemed a mere figure of speech. The sound ceased, and still I watched the nursery door. At last, when my brain would have turned with more, I heard a sound which, faint at first, grew louder and louder. “Oh, heaven,” I cried, “the blood¬ hounds!” and fell senseless to the ground. Slowly returned to consciousness, my gaze fell on Cedric, the La Huerta sheriff, and Anne—Anne anxiously ap¬ plying restoratives! “Take him away,” I gasped; he will murder us.” “You are raving!” cried Cedric; “that is Anne.” “No; Smith, the murderer, The blood-hounds tracked him to the very door.” Here Hiram Waite thought fit to interpose. “Guess I can straighten out this kink, Mrs. Allandale. You did hear the hounds, they’re up at the barn now. Your husband, he heard at La Huerta we was beatin’ up this part of the country, so he lit out for home, thinkin’you’d be scared. We caught our man hidin’ by the ’Dobe Hill, and the Tulare boys took him back to town. Your husband and me was tired, so we made tracks for here. Sorry ’bout the dogs. Might ha’ known they’d scare you.” The Honorable Anne next day gave warning. ‘ ‘If you please, ma’am, you and Mr. Allandale have been very kind, and I love Mr. Billikins like my own, but I can’t stay where I’ve been so misjudged.” your'part would “More candor on have prevented your being mis¬ judged. ” She blushed. “1 often wanted to tell you, ma’am—what I first said wasn't true. I came from England when I was a baby. I haven’t any brother, and, I never went to La Huerta.” “Ah!” “The kinder you was, ma’am, the meaner I felt; and I was afraid Mr. Allandale would go to the hospital; and, worst of all, mv heart stood still ___^ ___________^ ________ when he spoke of Mr. Waite, For he and my stepfather are cousins, and I was afraid he would guess who I was.” “Your stepfather?” “Yes, ma’am, mother married Jim Waite the second time, and it was him that came with the posse and frightened me. He was such a bad. cruel man that I couldn’t stand it, so I ran away.” “How did you happen to reach Yaquero Water?” “With some friends in one of those big wagons they call ‘prairie schoon¬ ers.’ Tulare folks go to the coast every year; but they don’t dare go there straight, it’s too much change. They always stop at the Iron Spring to cool off first. ” To cool off at ninety in the shade! ‘ ‘Soon as we came to the spring, I heard aboutj^ou, and thought I’d try for the place.” “But how much better to have told me the truth.” “I knew Mr. Allandale was English, ma’am, and they are that particular I was afraid he’d send me home.” Surely the story of Lady Emily Brown was unnecessary.” Anne’s eyes flashed. “It’s every word true, ma’am. Not that I ever saw her; she was by father’s first mar¬ riage; but it’s true. Why, they lived in a beautiful house in St. John’s Wood, and the night before they went to Paris the Prince of Wales dined with them. ” “And do you believe it, my dear?” asked Cedric on hearing the last ver¬ sion. “She believes in the family tradi¬ tions. But she will care less about such nonsense when she is Mrs. Hiram Waite.” “Why, she met the man only last night.” “Something will come of it, trust a woman’s intuition.” “Thanks, no!” he retorted, with a cheerful grin. “No telling into what mare’s nest I might be led. Never mind, darling, you did your best. We can’t all be born detectives.” Cedric to the contrary, my prophecy came to pass, and our Honorable Anne was transformed into Mrs. Hiram Waite. At last accounts she was well and happy, supplying the boarders “four-bits at Wait’s Hotel with meals at ahead.” While we on the ranch are still wondering whether the Countess of Melligan and the Lady Emily Brown are myths.—The Argonaut. SCIENTIFIC AND IN DUSTRIAL Jamaica is pointed out as the land of ferns, its species numbering between 400 and 500. It has been estimated that an oak of average size, during the five months it is in leaf every year, sucks from the earth about 123 tons of water. The iridescence of the soap bubble arises from the fact that the bubble, being thin, reflects light from both the outer and inner surfaces of the film. An important discovery by M. Pfister, an Austrian engineer, is that sea-water may be freed from salt and rendered potable by forcing through a tree trunk. Pictet’s discovery that liquors may be artificially aged by cold is about to be applied commercially in a proposed frigorific laboratory in Paris. The liquor is gradually cooled in 200 de¬ grees C below zero, then gradually brought again to the ordinary tempera¬ ture. St. Etienne, near Lyons, France, has apparently solved the problem of distributing electrical’ energy cheaply in private houses over a wide district. Two dollars a month is the charge for sufficient power to drive a loom, the service extending as far as thirty miles from the central station. Results of a German inquiry prove that overhead wires tend to reduce the violence of thunderstorms and lessen the danger from lightning. Oases of damage from lightning were about five times as numerous in places without telephone systems as in those having them. Since Homer’s time vast falls of or¬ ganic particles, as well as of; meteoric dust, have been known at various times and places. Dr. T. S. Blair, of Har¬ risburg, Penn., argues that the organic matter may have largely come from space and that showers of still-living germs may explain the sudden appear ance and rapid spread of many historic epidemics. J. L. Hebrahn, the German archaeo logist, has just completed an explora tion tour through the State of Chiapas, Mexico, where he reports having found another ancient buried city in the depths of a tropical forest, about sixty miles west of the Guatemalan border. He brought away with him a number of relics of the place, and says that he will go to the United States and thence to Germany, where he will organize i an expedition for further researches in i Chiapas. 1 The duck mole of Australia, which j Sidney Smith declared made Sir ; Joseph Banks miserable from his utter j inability to decide whether it was a ; bird or beast, is a mamraal with webbed : feet and a duck’s bill, and is reinarka- j ble for laying eggs like a bird or rep tile. It 'was long thought harmless and without defense. Dr. A. Stuart has lately found, however, that a pow erfnl spur of the male’s hind leg, ai*- , parently connected with a gland, which may j inflict a hornet-like sting, ^ sometimes fatal to dogs. watchwords Whilo there’s a haad t 0 strike; While there’s 111 * heart bra While there’s Too a W^ task nWrou Sbt; * While , v ... „ there’s a God to Learn save. Tliat there’ 3 a work for Feel each; That there’ s a strength in God That there’s a crown Wait rescrved - Though ’neath the cloud and sod Where there’s a foethat Help, wrongs •. When there’s a m When „ tnero’s a tempter near; Doth in thy word and deed. HUMOR OF THE day, “So hi son * edvcation?’ ~ “Gre B he’s -§ News. just out of college!”-. “Do you think capital punish might a remedy for crime?” j be if persisted in for generations. ”—Judge. losity! . ^e “Talk There’s about woman's thing,”] id no suok —“No. I should say it worked and day.’’—Detroit Journal. because A proofreader a cowslip has by been the river’s] disci] a simple cow’s lip was to Jour] hid nothing more.—Somerville sior _ A cab-owner had the door-panel] word ‘ j painted on the his vehicles. He explained thd motto “My was wife “Hire. ’’—London Tit] cleans house eight ti year,” “Decree said granted,” the applicant said the fordi] radj a Press. voice that shivered.— Detroit] The Pretty Girl—“Miss Sn was named after her Uncle Gi wasn’t she?” The Bright On don’t know. She looks as if sh named before him.”— Cincinnati mercial Tribune. Wallace—“There is nothing the matrimony value of to make ” a man Ferry—“j appr] money. so. A dollar a man gives to hi doss look bigger to him than any dollar. ”—Cincinnati Enquirer. and Typewriter—“I understand business am rapid ford enj right, spell.” but Business I must admit Man—“YonJ that I e| do, then, even at the price. J spell, cither.”—Indianapolis Joj Mrs. Man ykyds—“There girls; tlia u good thing about our Papal always self-possessed." they d kyds (grimly)— “Yes; wish they] self-possessed. I some one els9 to possess tiie Puck. “How in the world did yon 1 Curmudgeon’s consent to daughter?” “Finesse, meL-.y. I told all around that he teen four-pound bass on tint ing expedition of liis.”—Dm Press. | “You blamed old pLr the farmer to his balky horse, actually ain’t worth killin less,” lie added, after secon i “unless I could manage to killed by the railroad. Oe Enquirer. Nurse—“Please, mum, quick for send for the doctor Johnnie.” Mother— “Oh, dear. is the matter?” Nurse know, mum; but he hasn’tbeeffl any mischief for two hours. don Tit-Bits. Bobby had been studying« old grandfather’s “Weil, wrinkle^ Bo\ a long time. _ old gentleman, “do said you m/ “Yes, grandpa,” but way awfully nice face, have it ironed?”—Stanaaru. Sprocket!—“I xeas sorry 1 keep my appointment with y° c you see, my wheel Hudson—‘‘Why <hdut N-. _ train?” Sprooi*. / ■ , And ride with those non k ’-bikers? Never! * s - 0 „ t > [ American, M p ( to anxious mother;': ver y simple; ou t his spine, lay his lungs “ his liver with an a ^ ’i inject wire a‘ the * j Qser a silver thorax. We will then s -! - tiv, and you’ll be stirp”-- nea make. —Iru— gr^^o-e it’ll -x “r) r ” said the Sena Hauers 3a accusingyec •{. ‘ are y mar ]j e t influence * j- e » roa red the su ‘ a table wi mounded the t L^n lt y f j }iave done ia tb / ^ . * to tQ atlow my vo te j n stock n.a-*- c 0 jjg journal. discussing : m, had been - ea j 0 f science. Maimed that they can g - , from c0 al now, “ “That won't do u _ . j ru i e (l the railroad ^ jj get ,l:re " ^ coa TCOUi now we * ant strike, Post
