Newspaper Page Text
' •* ■
iUistrUanfo'MS.
£> PerswnlfiUlciirss.
P<*, - . —-
Make," said
t .it ready for licr
me. Now I know
2K” Moll. < 'nullin'!
'.T.'ffe6sp*i#yloak in time,
iff tind tin* took l**n-
V> trim thaw slic,TJiijiiglit
HP /OllM. <1 H&il
W or un-ssfnaKrT ini fmr%e ;
I put ujVA’illi
’ 4 v. Wop, ,vo fig "jKiiiin.
to yoif waniT
<f utl er<'<W,iseeH7<T words
kfii sort qMMart. tor a* *ln-
H*‘<l up Ifttn fn<‘ pilo of goods
■*l upoiptlie sitting room tu
W k gild standing l>v
■ (>a girl sin* had never
B ftre-wrapped in that
womanhood, a water
. Uu.* 1 1
|Hh* I *>’i f
MFy-atherTne ™* r ' U '''
tile- g and pretty :
■Kthov 4anuar<iiwday tie
nilivjj^^*,l*nil aide. 11 o
t ( w!P, how torn tiie
Bourse,
EHKIU\V> repeat ed
at answer. "Well ?"
Rv ip‘B*llyinbc 1 saw the
Kgll .* h’ e, vo * Very tired, linn
B_of *>“' sl,, V flW - <I“U-Riil.
W yt.,i know ’krtps votv could
T •he and a
j? me do some
r | can do any
‘‘.Ve'work. and I can
L iaif
thaid Mrs. Speers, can
cisrtg was not one to let
S& 'S> out at once to a
'dfeger. “Well, olCourse,
jM!**' Miked for 1 don't think
SB’ kinK \ lt refuse any one
**M. I never give mmi
tind that
■have* want work."
beggars." said
k * V “1 suppose they
I “Bio, though. W’lial is
-- *eing ptotid and say
a beggar when I've
iflfVJpr food ? Only it's
t usual—my—-1 haven't
Jr /the habit oi' it that is
... in trying to say."
on don’t look it, young wo
said Mrs. Speers. “Trouble
coiue to god people. I know
,a‘t r he's happened ?"
”tu parents are dead," said
I <ter, ana
If ,"'tanee of't v ® ■ v,,u anv
L ~ -a'*- sp**‘*--
r *.V''i^, rty, " ,l,ow#rltl; ’
"iw\V • “I uni £oiuk to
jfVrw London, if I can, to
ssmakinj; to do.”
4)tm vmi cut ami fit f" asked
•^Speers.
'‘Anything,” replied thegirh—
do you want to try me f”
0 Mrs. Speers look at her sharply.
“1 will,” said she. “1 suppose
it's a risk; that's a good dress.
but” \
l d can fit y<u as no country
•ressmaker ever did,” cried the
’rj. ‘-I can make you look like
fashion plate- You can give
vC.what you like, you know.”
df'll’try yen,” said Mrs. Speers.
can have your breakfast
lj H and then You'd bet
* kx 1 off your cloak.”
P eo <ya‘se, let me keep it on,”
k ties i, e jrj,] “Wait -1 can’t
AganVon and sew, can I i I
BvrJsr I must take it oil, hut”
no l U, r>,
Inion* t *- v ,iUI
k .ft huv dress on under
L the girl.
HtmJIrQSS oil * I never heard
■ffeopUlVun 0,(1
Kfishness or ~ . .
gw , said the, gilt.—
been robbed."
re
an tddwrappei."
'Vh.V, what ha* been
mil nothing. She
little back bed
wrapper, and.
H*- l 'l found herself
|||ißLfci; f ..*wled“e tlial Bet
BBBBr' would tell
HMippf' 0 " r-f > ; >*t.
i’e-rsidf. -hi*
in s-h.’’ •
**inl
||f||||||K^HMk^ r a grave,'
'v* ■’• fcjdj#
1 e bredp
■ 1
• ' U.'<r
• Ik
••That’s a girl that came for
work,'’ said the mother. ‘‘Pretty !
; I don’t see how you find anything
iso dreadfully pretty about her.
in my old worn-out wrapper, too. "
After Mrs Speer’s dress was
done that kuly thought that so
i heap a seamstress would never
come to hand again. Shirts were
to be made, counterpanes pieced
and quilted, work of all kinds to
be done, and the girl was handy
in many ways. It was Rose here
and Rose there, up stairs and
down stairs, in the kitchen and
in my lady's chamber.
Out of her tiny wages neat
calico dresses had been bought.
She was trim, tidy and comfort
able.
On Sunday she went to church
in a bonnet made out of Mrs.
Speer's old one, that looked pret
tier than anything in the milli
ner’s shop window.
Frank used to walk with her
sometimes, and it seemed to him
• bat 'Squire Peter’s daughters,
•J even rich Miss llubbington.
; a j,i,ked vulgar beside bis moth
er’s seamstress, Rose.
One day he said so to his
mother. After that, somehow
she contrived that he should see
less of Rose and his vacation
came to an end, and he went
back to college.
Hut tin* old folks knew noth
ing of what passed in the lane
between the meadows where the
brier rose gww over the low fen
■res, and the grass was long and
wild.
He had been sitting on the
fence waiting for her to come.
“I atn going away tomorrow,
Rose,” said Frank.
“They will miss you, Mr.
•Speers,” said the girl.
“Will you miss me?” asked
Frank. “Don’t call me Mr.
Speers; I call you Rose. I don't
knew your other name. Oall me
Frank, and say you will miss me.
But next year I am coming home
to marry the girl 1 love, if she
will have me. Do von think she
will, Hose?"
“How do 1 know ?" she asked.
“No one else knows, Rose. '
said lie. “Rose, you know I love
you."
“Without even knowing my
whole name ?" said she. “I came
to your mother’s door and asked
for work. That is all of my sto
ry that you know, and you would
marry me ?”
“If you can love me, Rose,"
he said.
She gave him her hand.
“You have a great deal of faith
in me." she said. “Well, I have
tail It in you. Only we will say
no more about it.just now. Fan
cy your mother's feelings!”
She laughed softly.
“1 know you are the sweetest
thing that ever lived," he an
swered. Then he kissed her.
Neither of them knew that the
mother was hard by. She saw
them as they crossed the stile.
“1 do not like to see it," she
said to herself. “It must not go
on."
Late that night Frank Speers
heard the window of a room near
him open softly. He hastily
dressed himself and hurried down
to the door anil out upon the
garden path. A figure was let
ting itself carefully down. It
was dressed in hat and shawl and
had a little bundle in its hand.
“Rose?" he cried.
“Frank !" she answered. Then
i iiey'Stnodjjlgking at each other.
“Where are* yon going?" lie
asked
“Where they will let me he at
peace," she said. -1 am hunted
like some wild animal. Come
away farther from the house,
where our voices cannot he heard.
To night, after all the work was
done, I sat alone in the little
sewing-room. I was not listen
ing, but I heard your mother say
Ito your father :• Listen to this.
-We are in search of a young we
man with light hair and black
eyes. She will give an assumed
name, and is a fine seamstress.-
Any One harboring her will be
dealt with according to law. The
peculiarity of her attire when
she escaped was that she wore
no gown. Jeremiah,' said your
mother, ‘it is Rose. I shall write
to these people. Meunwhiic,
she shall not see this paper. She
has evidently been in prison. It
is our duty to give her up. Be
kiiles, Frank admires her too
juueh.' Frank, it is I whom they
You will rtotprevent my
escape?" said the young girl, in
a low voice.
“I will help you." said Frank.
“But,’darling, Hie time has come
when you need toe. Marry me;
I am of age, and Wjrlfttinya* take
a wife from her liU'diaLd." \ >
THE FIELD AND 11 BESIDE—MARIETTA. (GA.) THL'RsDAY, NOVEMBER 28, 1878.
“You do not doubt me, {even
now ?” asked Rose.
“Doubt you !’’ he answered :
“I love you. Doubt and love
cannot exist together.”
••It is time you should know
the truth,” said the girl, and she
whispered something in her lev
er’s ear.
“Now,” said she. “I will marry
you if you want me.”
Rose went hack into her little
upper room. Frank sought his ;
no one knew eitherdiad left the
house.
A letter went slyly to the post
a few days after, anil Mrs Speers
watched her seamstress with ar
gils eyes. One evening, about a
month after Rose’s descent from
the window, a carriage drove
along the road, and from it step
ped a lady and two men. Mrs.
Speers hurried out to meet them.
“i received a note from some
one in this house,” said (lie ladv.
••You described the person of
whom we arojn search correct
ly. (Jan I see her?”
“Rose ! ’ called Mrs. Speers.
The seamstress descended from
the sewing-room.
“It is she !” cried the lady.—
“These men are officers of the
law. Rose, you can come quiet
ly or resist, as you please, but you
see you must come all the same.”
“ Not without her husband !’’
exclaimed a voice, and Frank
stepped forward to thegirl’s side.
“You married to tliiti girl!” cri
ed his mother.
But the lady, with a look of lit
ry, turned away.
“ Come away. We will go,'’ she
said, firmly. “1 can do nothing
now.”
She entered the carriage ami
was driven down the road.
Rose turned to Mrs. Speers.
“You have heard of the Nor
man property ?” she said.
“1 was Miss Norman, its heir
ess. The lady who drove away is
my step mother, whom my father
married late in life. He made
her legal guardian until I came
of age or married. At either of
these periods her power over me
ceased. She lias a sou by a for
mer marriage to whom she desir
ed to give me and my fortune.
While I was still only a child I
promised to marry him, but as I
grew older 1 found him to be bad
coarse and mercenary. I did not
love him nor did he love me. I re
fused to fulfil my engagement.
From that moment she behuvediin
a way that terrified me. At last,
finding me determined to leave
her house, she locked me in the
garrett, wihout my ordinary arti
cles of clothing. At night I found
means to escape; fortunately, I
hail upon my finger a ring of some
little value. This I gave to an
old woman for the cloak and shoes
which I wore on my arrival at
your door. I intended to conceal
myself until my nejrt birthday
gave me the right to he my own
guardian. Your son desired to
marry me that I might have a
protector; but by the act he also
made me a rich woman ; for the
fortune my lather left me is now
mine, and I am indeed happy to
share it with one who loved me
when he thought me a poor girl.
Now, you know my motive ; will
you forgive me, mother?”
Mrs. Speers felt that it was bet
ter to take upon herself the role
thus offered, espescially as her
daughter brought into the family
that wonderful Norman property
which she held in such res&jS.
THE RICH HUSBAND.
“Wonders will never cease.”
said Mrs. Noakcs, as she opened
a letter she had found beside her
plate at breakfast. Here is cous
in Corner coming home alter all
these years, aiul such a letter;
.just listen, my dean
* Dear Cousin —l suppose you
have all made upyourminds that
I am dead; but I'am alive, as you
see, and coming home. I'm tired
of more money grubbing, and
those who have made fortunes
know that they need something
else in this world. I mean to end
my days amongst my relatives,
and, between me and you, 1 shall
put them to the test. 1 want to
find out who are really my friends
and who court me for other reas
ons ; and what I ask you to do is
make them all think me a very
Eoor man, quite out of pocket.—
less me. I'm laughing out loud,
as 1 write ! You should hear qc.
To make them think that I’m poor
and that it would be a charity to
nsk mo to pay them visits, ami to
invite me now and then to dianer.
and all that! There Igo again,
laughing until the room rings.*-
And in this way 1 can discover
my, true friends. I shall come To
your house first, dressed in char
acter. 1 know that it is an old
joke, quite a thing out of the
plays and novels, but I trust it
will succeed. Yours, very affec
tionately, Obadiah Coknkb.
•I*. S.—Expect me Thursday.'
If that isn't the most amusing
thing," said Mrs. Noakcs —“coni
ing home so rich that he is suspi
cious of his relatives, and afraid
of being courted for his money.
And a bachelor, too. Dear, dear !
Poor Obadiah Corner, who used
to be the black sheep of the fam
ily, and whom we never believed
would come to any good! How
everything does change about in
this world! Life is a checker
board, to be sure ! William, what
a splendid thing it would be for
Arabella Muflit. !" x
“What would be a splendid
thing for Arabella; a checker
board ?” asked Mr. Noakes.
“Oh, Mr. Noakes!” cried his
wife ; ‘don’t pretend to be stupid,
because you are not, my dear,
and you don’t do yourself justice.
1 mean cousin Obadiah.’
‘Cousin Obadiah would be a
good t iling for Arabella. Oli yes,
yes, y-e-e s !’ said Mr. Noakes.—
•Oh, I see—you mean a good
match for her. But Arabella
Muflit, though a most excellent
person, is no longer young, and
she’s never been handsome, my
dear.'
‘That’s so ridiculous,’ said Mrs.
Noakes. ‘Arabella is much youn
ger than Obadiah, and by no
means so plain as he is. But that
is the way with you men. The
older and uglier they get, the
younger and prettier they think
their wives should be. Boys of
twenty sometimes fall in lave
with women of thirty, but men of
sixty never think of any age be
yond sixteen when they choose
wives.’
‘Very true, indeed,’ staid Mr.
Noakes.
‘And very ridiculous,'said Mrs.
Noakes. ‘At all events, I’ve an
affection for Arabella, and I’ll do
all I can to further her interest;
and don’t forget that we must
keep Obadiah’s secret from the
rest of the relatives. 1 shall give
Arabella a hint of the real state
of the case, but not another soul
shall know a word beyond what
Obadiah has told me to tell them.’
‘Well, women must be match
makers, I suppose,’ said Noakes,
as he swallowed his last cup of
coffee and glanced at the clock ;
-but dont calculate too much on
success in this affair,'my dear.’
Then he took his hat and coat,
and departed for those regions col
loqually known as town, where
men of business hide themselves
the best part of the day; and
shortly after Mrs. Noakes, having
arrayed herself for the promenade
went out also, her purpose being
a confidential interview with the
Arabella of whom she had spoken
to he r husband.
Arabella Muflit, known among
her friends as little Miss Muflit,
was a very small black-eved lady
of forty five years old, who lived
in a tiny house, principally fur
nished with specimens of all the
fancy work that had been fashion
able for the last 25 years.
She had no near relatives, and
could remember none but the
grandfather who left her the small
property on which site now lived,
but she had connections who took
tea with her occasionally, and
with whom she dined at times;
for the rest, church going, needle
work and books occupied her
time.
Sl>e opened the door for Mrs.
Noakes herself, aiul having kissed
her on both cheeks, escorted her
to the bedroom above, where she
was busy with a chair cover.
‘Now, we can have a nice chat,'
said she. ‘And you’ll stay to a
lunch, wont you, Martha ?'
Martha promised to stay, and
having taken off her cloak and
hat dropped into a chair and pro
duced Obadiah Corner's letter.
■There,' she said, ‘read that !'
Arabella read it. changing col
or she did so.
‘Dear me,' she said, ‘how ro
mantic he must be. He never
used to be romantic. I suppose
he is changed very much in these
five and twenty years. He must
be fifty seven now. And to think
of his having made a fortune ami
wanting to prove his friends sin
cere. Martha, do you think you
ought to betray him V
Poor Arabella looked in the
glass sadly.
-He will find me dreadfully
c.lymged,' said she; ‘but 1 will
come, Martha.'
-Bless you. we all change. We
can't help that,’-said Mrs.Noakes.
-1 never worry about it;’ and then
they fell to talking about Oba
diali and what lie used to do. and
what he had been doing, and they
found the subject so interesting,
that they kept it up over the cold
chicken, sponge cake, Arc. that
composed their lunch. S
When Thursday evening ar
rived it found little Miss Mull'd
in Mrs. Noakes’s paijferj sitting
opposite a man.
whose nose was ratify), jt“il and
whose eyes were not ii&m -t, can
did eyes by any meansTtiof e was
dressed very shabbily, toy>t> v- the
least, and had whispered Mrs.
Noakes in the hall, “Take HkMce
of this coat; it carries out\*ke j
character, doesn’t it ? 1 liwkj
like a Seedy old fellow who liQj
had ill luck, don’t I?’’ AmHflf
nudged Mr. Noakes with 011 i
bow and Mrs Noakes with) or y.
other, while they mentally agrevldr
that lie certainly did look .thv_
character most thoroughly.
On the whole, it was rather a
pleasant ail Arabella
and Obadiah
promised to take tea at Tier
in a few days and saw her home
at 10 o’clock.
The rest of the connections,
not having read Obadiah’s letter,
were not delighted at his return.
They saw him shabbier than ev
er, and they were very careful to
keep him at a distance.
Mrs. Noakes often smiled
herself to think what a ilitlerence
that letter would have made in
their conduct had they known of
it; but she wisely held her
tongue and left a fair field to
Arabella. In a little while, to
her joy, and the great surprise
of Mr. Noakes, Obadiah Corner
actually proposed to little Miss
Muflit, and was accepted by her.
“Such a splendid tiling!” said
Mrs. Noakes. “Such a wonder
ful thing for Arabella, and it
shall all come out now!"
Thereupon Mrs. Noakes went
calling among the relatives,
showing Obadiah’s letter every
where, and creating great excite
ment.
“And what can he see in lit
tle Miss Muflit V said one moth
er of many daughters. ‘And
though I say it—who, pdrhaps,
should not—there’s my Margue
rite—such a beauty.’
“But Marguerite was very rude
to Cousin Obadiah,’ said Mrs.
Noakes.
‘The idea of an old man mar
rying—with relatives he could
leave everything to!’
‘But men don’t leave every
thing to relatives who insult
them,’’said Mrs. Noakes. “Be
sides, Obadiah is not very old—
not old at all. It's just splendid
for Arabella; and she was the
only one who was civil to
him, you know.'
Then she went away, leaving
the connections generally envi
ous of Miss Muflit, and angry
with her also, as one who had
been wiser in her generation t han
they.
Anil Miss Muflit, so happy that
she began to grow glutnp, was
making up a pearl colored silk
dress, and had sent some pearls
that had been left to her by her
grand father to the jeweller’s to
be reset, and sat one evening
building some middle age castles
in the air, with her feet on the
fender of the grate, when the
bell rang and her elderly lover
was shown in.
There was no light in the ro nn
but that of the fire; and as she
would have lit the drop lamp, lie
stopped her.
-I want to talk a little,' he
said, ‘and I like talking in half
light. Arabella, I’ve a question
>to ask, and 1 want you to an
swer me truly. I want you to
promise solemnly that you'll tell
me the truth.’ •
-I will,’ said little Miss Mulfil.
faintly. ‘Whatever the question
is, I'li tell the truth, Obadiah.’
‘Well, then,’ said Obadiah,
‘did you see the letter I wrote to
Cousin Noakes V
The blood rushed to Miss Muf
lit's face in the darkness.
‘l—l . Yes, I saw it,' she
said.
‘ I know no one else did,' said
Obailiali. ‘But you—she showed
it to you ? Well, 1 intended she
should. I wrote it to be seem I
never thought Cousin Noakes
could keep a secret," Arabella, 1
am a peer man and a rascal ! I
have met with nothing but fail
ure. You are rich in comparison?
Your’ve a home anil twelve him
dred a year. My letter was only
a trap. I wanted every oiie to
see it, and hoped to settle
fortably down among my friends
with the reputation of being a
rich batehclor with a fortune tii
U-ai*> behind him. You only saw
the letter. You only -were -civil
and 1 offered uiysell *to yon.
meaning to iuyigse on you until*
j we were safely married. * I cared
; very little for you then Arabella !
1 wanted a home, that was all.’
‘ Oh !’ cried little Miss Muflit. as
, if something had stung hpr.
•' '- But since then,’ said Obadiah
i looking miserably into the lire,
•since then I've found how good
you^w’ere—hyw nice, how sweet.
I'veiodme'-fo love you, Arabella,
anil to feejjhat I must not play a
trick on y.ilu*. It was natural you
'hould'hßefthe thoughts of a rich
husband. 4nd then we were great
; friends tegboy and girl. 1 don't
blame JraLstuid I can’t cheat you
1 thi jre ak mv misera
ivoohej Ht goodbye.
llaks^ilrfo 11 h is, aiaVC collie to sdy
h % yOU ‘‘ V 'T [ T
We pay t'ri*F **iey 11 say you had a
I'ssf! to l.jfape. So you have. I am
K Bnt little Miss Mu Hit
a rosl^m
she said, -1 never
I . •' 4 .TJbad?ur?v > 7
nor i ninfftßpft’ ofuiie. Aju] do you ■
care'for iinH! l ‘ovf-?’ r - • ',
‘ The only thing in the. world I
love,’said lie. a y '
Then she held out
bling hand. v ..
•Stay, Obadiah,’said shJEfcffifr"
And he caught herj f
kissed it, and in the *U,-Ifness she
heard him sob. *
So they were married after all
and Obadiah has turned out bet
ter than could have been expect
i eil, and only Mrs. Noakes knows
of that bridal eve confession,
and she, you may be sure, keeps
it a secret.
AriiitiiiiMtrafor’t* Kale.
Iv: virtue of ail onler of the liouora
y hie, the Court of Ordinary of Cobh
County, Georgia, and under a decree of
the Superior court of said county, will
he sold before tile Court House door at
Marietta, in said county, within the le
, gal hours of sale on the first Tuesday in
December, 1878, the following property
; belonging to the estate of William L.
Mansfield late of said county, deceased,
to wit: One undivided half intererest in
Uielot known as the property of Gol
den and Mansfield on Cherokee street,
in the city of Marietta, Cobh county Ga.
containing half an acre more or less,on
which there is a brick building, with
three store rooms and a cellar. Also at
i the same time and place, a dwelling
House and Lot in the city of Marietta,
Cobb County, Ga., whereon Louisa K.
Mansfield now resides, containing one
I and a half acres, more or less, well im
j proved. Terms cash, Xov. 31, 1878.
VV. T. Winn Adme.
of W. L. Mansfield, de’cd.
FOR SALK!
PTIHE House and Lot in the City of
JL Marietta, one block from the city
square, owned and formerly occupied
by Dr. (V. E. Dunwooily.
FARM of 130 acres 1 C miles from
Marietta, Cobb County—has 80 acres of
arable land—one small house—will be
divided to suit purchasers.
FARM of 80 acres 1 G miles from Ma
rietta, Cobh county, on the W. & A. R.
j R.—will he divided into three smalt
! farms.
A FIRST CLASS Plantation of 2!*o
acres, four miles from Marietta, in one
| of the best neighborhoods in Cobb coun
ty. There arc on the premises about
100 acres of arable land, 70 acres of bot-
I tom land and a fine orchard, with almn
' dance of wood and water.
THE PLANTATION" formerly known
as the Howell Mill Property, contain
ing 300 acres on Xiekajaek creek, about
I*o miles from Concord Factory. There
are on the premises a good water power
formerly used, about 160 acres of arable
, land and fine tract of white oak timber
ALSO PLANTATION" of 100 acres,
on the Roswell road 1 1 miles from Ma-
I rietta—7o acres cleared—3o acres in
good woodland. There are on the prem
j lses a large barn and stables—an abun
dance of good, free stone water. Terms
easy.
APPLY TO
Van Hyek,
At the Marietta Savings Bank.
i “Appearenees are something witli
everyone—everything with some.”—
: [ Bishop Berklev.
1857. 1878.
Jno. W. Metcalf, respectfully in
forms the citizens of Marietta and
vicinity, that he is better prepared than
ever to do anything in the Tailoring
line, guaranteeing his patrons faithful
work at moderate prices. sepli) l v
I'ik-oii. ajfc Home liidii*ti\
William Spencer,.
CHEROKEE STREET,
MARIETTA, GEORGIA..
DEAL Kit IX
LEATHER
of all kinds. Shoe Findings and Har
ness Upper Leather, Har
ness, Kip and Calf Skins, Hciiiloek and*
Home Tan Sole Leather.
I h ave employed as workmen,
Mr. G. T. Swann, and will carry on a
first class
Boot arid Shoo Shop
where we guarantee as good and cheap
; 'Boots and Shoes made as elsewhere.—
Spend your money aflame and it w ill
come hack after a feta? stays. Encour
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