Newspaper Page Text
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MARIETTA JfcV *
;|.
j ’ */* J*icr *
-, -Tw*VF, George
lire ’ vw<fter own
*rde her bed,
conisnlej’Slire irtt<v face hidden
eyebrow;. 485*-A can
wig thenpralwes,” lie .
wit- i.) \vV*i,
J^HfeffreofTeiKbi.“ f
Stf&MUM}'*, re-ed !i "Mi.
i e ; ;
t> ■:*'*!''■* ft V■. -V '
~ :
ShHmA
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i 11 .
n w -*■ 11 .1 -
‘VtHE’ to’sbw* you ni1,.1 n man may
Ssj||j|Mj4h*v<i%eii stolen limn I lie
■HHHBjjjXrtin ywirn v\ i itlen. lint
Billlßfcfc I‘l|,,n ..mi Ii M•- till- in' iin
a wniiu
i j two yrai> had lead
ope I tin- |i;i|< et
M*r S' 1 cij w wjjman addressed as
Wfry one year before
VNeciu* i iii'iage—letters t hat
Htimla.is' hlVdft* passion warm
Hthe Mauie.\h e I'’ l ' h *“‘ "ho
%luf a
< h as * George
t never wnl teii lo
Mg' inidm now lead them.
nHHwmieih eame 11 1 i-. dated
Mwrrnela.v before their wed
s~—■
■mi Vu
ii v M I>cahi.-i un\:\
■■T ".or- in you. I -1,.i1l
BbBL '- . 'I iJ' 1 11 v<• In you ;• i
j|jjj|B’ f v r |ai '' >**<•>• in i>-
SHHFwliil-h iiiHki-i it my duty l<> h|
forget you. Imu in lie mnri ii-il
HBtruw. I li*V* linin' this tn li'hr
nun*: completely from you.
I""" "‘Ve often tol<( me t iml I should,
(lie in-' right. A inmi in love cmiiiiol
,| 1( nnnHi'lf. l'’oi- my nuke—may I
llvtf r y° urH nlni*,OlivU i —l lake this
L ,jfiOf course, I ilo not love this girl,
I HI is* pure, good woman, ami I
Her. They call Imr hrantiful
’ . , hut only your fact: will lie ipiltc
- htlful to mv eyes. Il rises before
as 1 say adieu. It will haunt me al
ii jiivs, hul here I part from it, Fsre
.veil—farewell, as though I were dying.
.’l’erhaps in heaven we may meet again,
and there he uli in all to each other.
Yours forever,
Gkoruk < 'HKH'I KHKIKI.I).
H elicit Chesterfield read this
through, know il to.be genuine,
and cried out in her great agony,
“Oh, why did I not die upon that
happy wedding day ? Why did I
live for this ?”
Then for two long hours she
knelt beside her pillow, strug
gling with herself—struggling
until, at last, her heart gave her
the answer we have already writ
ten down:— u Yes, you can bear
it; for though he does not love
you, you love him."
Then the poor wife tore into
fragments those passionate love
letters, and that final one which
seemed her death wound—the
whole cruel packet that had
brought her so much yoe—and
burnt them to ashes an hcNiparth,
and vowed that while she lived
her husband shetild never know
that site had read them.
“For he has not deceived me,”
she said to herself. “He has
been true to me—honorable to
me. That he has been sorely
wounded should not make me
hate him, and he shall never
know, if 1 can help it, how I suf
for. lit* is always kind- oh hea
veu pity me !- always kind ; that
must suffice me."
An so she met him, w ith her
babe in her arms, as calmly as
she had parted with him.
He never saw the great change
in her. He never know that
from that hour life lost its beau
tv for her—that even the bright
ness of her love for her babe had
faded, because she knew that its
father had not loved her. No
one knew anything, save that the
roundness left her cheek *t hat
her oyes lost half their sweetness
- that she never indulged in these
moments of reposeful reverie of
which she had once been so fond.
Work was her refuge, and she
dared not pause to think.
People called the Chesterfields
a happy couple. Women envied
her—for he seemed a modle bus
band. She locked her skeleton
carefully up and gave no one a
peep at it.
Years flew by. Two other ha
bies tok the first baby’s place.
George Chesterfield grew rich.
She had helped him to become
so by frugality and unselfishness
and now it was a pleasure to him
to give her the means of doing
good among the poor. Helen
Chesterfield’s carriage was of
tener found waiting at the door
of some wretched abode than at
those of her fashionable friends.'
She was happy in doing good.
One day a woman in the most!
wretched haunt into whicli she I
ever carried her pure presence I
spoke to her of another lying ill
in the next room.
“Slice's been a lady, ma'am,”
she said, “hut she’s come down
dreadful. 1 think you’d do her
good.”
And Helen Chesterfield follow
ed her into a room, where, upon
a bed, lay the wreck of the love j
iiest woman on whom Helen’s
gaze had ever rested—a blonde
With black eyes, whose golden
r swept over her pillow' down
an the floor as she lay—a crea
loirith whit* and snowy
he sdut with\ agit.” stamped
penny feat though it
my ow writtA
tld h 1 of Yi angrily,
tvtvctsasked in ai
e’U “Take them awa|
h a^c,Ante for them with
>o>U
i •' 4 _ .
was not one of those
w/f&satisfy starving wretchedness
mere words. What she said
or did hardly matters. It was
what was most needed. No phar
isaii al pride made her shrink
from contact with a fallen sister.
There were food and wine and
decent linen in that poor room
before many hours were over;
and she did not even ask the wo
man’s name. It mattered not
I who she was to Helen. She suf
i feted—this was enough for char
I i,y '
So lor days and days she min
i istored to this poor creature, who
grew to yearn for her coming;
who prayed her to stay longer
when she came, but who often
locked at her in a strange way,
quite unaccountable to Helen;
who sometimes began to speak,
and paused aud said, “Another
time,” as though she postponed
some conference the story of
her life, perhaps. Only (Sod
knew what.it might he.
So the autumn wore away,
i Winter cmiiic and went; and in
the spring the little life in that
; poor creature’s breast wus stnoul
| deling out. Helen knew that
she must die. It seemed right to
! tell her so; hut the task was a
! woful one.
She sat beside her, thinking of
this one day, when the poor soul
|caught her hand.
“I shall go soon, sha’n’t I if” she
asked. “I know it is so. But
promise me that when I have told
you my story you won’t leave
me that you will still be kind
to me, and not turn from me.
Promise.”
“I promise,” said Helen.
“You are George Chesterfield’s
wife. I know it. You need not
1 answer. You remember, ten
! years ago, receiving some letters
written to Olivia ¥”
Remember! The wife’s cheek
! paled. She remembered it al
; ways.
“Goon,” she said, hoarsely,
bitterly ; her whole woe upon her
! as it had never been before. “Go
i on.”
“I am Olivia,” said the woman.
■•I sent those letters myself. 1
did it to make you wretched, to
revenge myself upon him. He
was young when he met. me. I,
a married woman, though no
older than he—l lured him on;
l delighted in his hopeless love
—in those letters—in his protes
tations. 1 joyed in the receipt
of that one written on Ins wed
ding-day.
Pure women cannot understand
how wicked women rejoice in
meshing hearts they do not care
for—in ruining young men’s lives
fora petty triumph. Lady, don’t
turn from me. I’ve not done
yet.”
“Had you not enough ?" gasped
the wretched wife. “Could you
not bear to keep it from me?
You ruined my yeiing life. Yen
killetl me—yes you killed me,as
far as heart went."
“All!" cried the woman. “It
was not when he wrote love to
me that I betrayed him. Re
venge prompted me. Six months
after liis marriage 1 received this.
Read it. When that came I sent
you the others. I was a fiend;
I know it. Hilt perhaps 1 can un
de my work, even now. Read
this and see."
Helen seized the faded, dingy
envelope that the woman drew
from her bosom,and hurried with
it to the light. She tore it open
and looked upon the lines w ithin.
This is what she read, dated six
months after her marriage :
Olivia—My Kkiknu : t told you 1
would never write again to you, and 1
write like a fool. I told you that 1 mar
ried a woman l did not love, and that
i should love you forever. Being so
true a friend as 1 believe voii are to me,
you vvill rejoice to know that I was quite
mistaken. I have forgotten the unhap
py passion of my youth, as you sooften
hade me. and man never loved a w ife
THE KIHLI) AND FIRESIDE—MARIETTA, (GA.) THURSDAY, JANUARY 23, 1579.
so fondly as 1 love my darling Helen.
She is the life of my life, the soul of my
sou!, and I cannot leave you under the
false impression I have given you.
Love came after marriage, it is true, I
tome ; but its germ was in my heart.
You will he glad to know of this and
wish me, as I wish you, every happi
ness. Geokok Chkstkhkiei.p.
She read it through—she read
it twice, this poor wife, to whom
balm had conic after so many
years—and sank down upon her
j knees, forgetful of all else, and
; thanked God lor it. When she
| turned once more towards the
j bed she saw that in that moment
j the death angel had come, and
I that the unhappy Olivia had pass
ed into eternity.
When George Chesterfield met
his wife that night lie hardly
knew her. Her girlhood seemed
to have returned; her smile
Pc harmed him as of yore ;
eyes were bright, her 1 iup red
•again. *
“How happy yen look!” he
said.
And she answered, “1 am very
happy.”
Nothing more then, but one
day she told him all.
Promised Revival of .Sodom aud
Gomorrah.
The Scientific American says :
“It is reported that French capi
talists have secured a grant for a
railway line from Jaffa to the in
terior of Palestine, which will o
pen up the Jordan valley and the
whole region north of the Suez
canal. In certain contingencies
this road might become of great
military usefulness,hut it appears
further that the productive re
sources of the country are consid
erable, and, what is more surpris
ing, that the Dead Sea itself can
he turned to commercial account.
Chief of these at present are the
; stores of natural combustibles for
which that region is noted.
“Hitherto the main obstacle to
the devalopment of steam traffic
1 in the Levant has been the total
absence of combustible-material.
Not only Egypt, but the shores
of Syria and the Red Sea are com
pletely stripped of wood, and the
coal imported from the west com
mands a price ranging from ten
to twenty-four dollars a ton. Now
the masses of asphalt continually
thrown up by the Dead Sea attest
the presence of vast subterranean
layers of fossil vegetable matter,
and these signs were not long o
verlooked by the enterprising
men attracted to Suez by the
opening of the canal and the
movement of commerce in that
direction. Recently numerous
soundings have been made be
tween Jall'o and the Dead Sea,
which, so far, have not disclosed
any deposits of coal proper; but,
on the other hand, have laid bare
inexhaustible beds of lignite.”
“Of itself this store of lignite
is likely to prove an inestimable
I gain to the industries and com
merce of the Levant; but we
should add that the juxtaposition
of asphalt in great quantities fur
nishes the elements of a mixture
of liguite and asphalt urn in the
form of bricks, which is equal in
heating capacity to the bitumi
nous coal, while its cost on the
ground is only two dollars and
fifty cents a ton. It is known that
similar bricks, made up of coal
dust and bituminous debris from
gas works, are much sought after
by French railways, since, besides
their heating power, they greatly
facilitate stowage, owing to their
regular shape. Of course the
bitumen of lower Palestine has
been known from immemorial
times, and was used to impart so
lidity to the structures of unbak
ed clay in Assyria and Egypt;
but it may be said that the dis
cover.v of the subterranean com
bustible has lifted once for all
the curse which has so long rest
ed upon Sodom and Gomorrah,
and will transform the wasted
shores of the Dead Sea into a fo
cus of industry and a magazine of
wealth.”
Scotch Funerals.
HOW THKY WKKK CONDUUXKD IX
• THK GOOD OLD TIMKS.
A writer in the Conihill May
a sine says:
“Talking of funerals, in the
good old times, and the mansions
of the lairds, these used to he the
most enjoyable of parochial fes
tivities. The kith and kin came
from great distance to he enter
taineU in a style befitting the oc
easion. There were grave faces
at the gathering when the guests
assembled round the coffin lo Ms
ten to a suitable prayer. Then
glasses of wine were handed round
once, twice, or oftener—the poor
est people would procure wine for
the occasion—and “the memory
of the deceased" was toasted in
silence. Then the long procession
moved off to the kirkyard, and the
body was laid silently in the
grave. The duty being solemnly
discharged, a load was visibly
lifted from the assistants. Ac
quaintances came together in the
carriages and mourning coaches,
and there was plenty of animated
i conversation. When the guests
! took their seats at the tables in
the dining room all were in excel
lent spirits and appetite. The
dear relations might be sad at
heart, but they felt hospitably
bound to stifle their sorrow, and
there were ample appliances for
drowning it. When the old fash
ion drinking healths and “taking
wine” prevailed, mourners were
apt to get merry in spite of them
selves, while, as may be supposed
the acquaintances of the deceased
gave themselves over easily to
boisterous joviality. It was a
churlish thing to he the first to
break up good company, and even
the minister might well sit it out
w till convivial example upset his
decorum.
Debts of .Soulhern Cities.
The indications are increasing
that several of the Southern mu
nicipalities will be forced to de
fault in the payment of interest on
their debts. New Orleans, Mem j
phis, Charleston and Nashville
are all confronted with the prob
lem of paying enormous debts
with deficient revenue. It is not
likely that the first named city
will he able lo raise the $500,000
required for the January interest
coupons. Memphis began two j
years ago to adjust her debt on a
basis of fifty cents on the dollar, j
and, in following out this policy,
about $2,000,000 of the debt has
been funded. The holders of the
remainder, however, refusing to
accept the compromise,have been
collecting interest on their claims
by mandamus. Asa result, Mem
phis is without money in its treas
ury, and, unless the bondholders
relent, the taxpayers threaten to
petition the Legislature to ap
point a receiver for the corpora
tion. The condition of Nashville
and Charleston differs from that
of New Orleans and Memphis on
ly in details. In each the trouble
exist simply in the impossibility
of making one dollar do the work
of two. They owe more than they
have means to pay.
It will avail nothing lo de
nounce the city named asrepudi
ators. In the case of New Orleans
and Memphis, it is probable that
the paralyzing effect of the yel
low fever scourge was so great as
to furnish sufficient excuse for
their present embarrassment. A
municipality is but an association
lof individuals for business pur
r poses, and to charge a city t hat is
| unable to pay one hundred cents
on the dollar with a breach of faith
j etc., is essentially unjust. The
i condition of these Southern cities
jis deplorable. Their particular
; claims to a compromise should be
| heard with respectful attention,
and if reason is on the side of the
taxpayers, the creditors, as a body
should consent to an equitable
adjustment. A bankrupt city
should receive the same consider
ation as is extended to an individ
ual under like circumstances. In
1 agreeing upon the terms of a
: compromise it should he laid down
that the cities in question shall
contract no more debt. The closest
observers of current affairs are
fast reaching the conclusion that
a city, with a democratic form of
i government, should not any more
than a minor, be entrusted with
the thing called credit.—PJtila
dtlph ia liecord.
Potter Palmer's Mistake.—A
lew days ago during one of his
rounds through his palatial hotel,
’ the landlord of the Palmer House
entered a room suddenly and dis
covered a window washer leisure
ly engaged in reading a newspa
per. Being very active himself
he had no use for a lazy man, or
one who slights his work. He
discharged the washer on the spot
and ordered him to go to the of
See for his pay. The man obeyed
! got his money, went to his room
on the upper floor, arrayed him
self in his Sunday suit, packed up
his duds, and descended to the
servant's apartment to take leave
of his former associates. About
this time Mr. Palmer entered, but
did not recognize his quondam
employee in his store clothes.
‘•Here, my man, you look as
though there was good work in
you; do you want a job?" The
ex washer somewhat surprised,
admitted that he stood in need of
one. “Can you wash windows?"
The man allowed that he could.
••Well." said Mr. Palmer. “1 have
just discharged a man who has
been doing that sort of work. I
paid him only twenty-four dollars
a month,but ifyou take the place
and go right to work I’ll pay you
twenty-two dollars.” The propo
sition was quietly accepted, and
in half an hour the discharged
employee was scrubbing away in
the same old room. —Chicago
Tim eg.
The heaviest snow storm in
twenty years occurred in Ohio
on the 10th inst.
CHEAPEST
Furniture House in Georgia.
A LITERAL AND ABSOLUTE FACT.
I have just received a targe and handsome assortment of Chamber and Parlor
Furniture which l am selling at astonishingly low'prices.
Beautiful Dressing Case sets, 10 pieces, SOS. Beautiful Cottage sets, only $25.
Parlor sets, all colors, SOS. Parlor sets, hair cloth, S3O. Walnut Bureaus with
glass. $lO. Walnut Bedsteads, $7. Cane Seat Chairs, sets. $5. Cane seat and
back Rockers, each $2. Common Beds, $2.50. Cotton top Mattress, $2.50. —
Wardrobes, lint Racks, Side Boards, What Nots, Marble and Extension Tables,
Book Cases, etc., in endless variety. Also the celebrated Woven Wire Mattress,
the most delightful spring lied in use. Send your orders to P. 11. SNOOK,
corner Marietta and Broad Streets, Atlanta, Ga. june27
“Tlie Most Widely Quoted South
ern Newspaper.”
1879. the 1879.
Atlanta Daily Constitution.
We have few promises to make for
The Constitution for 1879. The paper
speaks for itself, and upon that ground
tlie managers offer it to the public a* the
best, tlie brightest, the newsiest and the
most Complete daily journal published
in tlie south. This* is tlie verdietofour
readers, and tlie verdict of the most
critical of our exchanges, some of
whose opinions we take pleasure in pre
senting below.
Tlie managers will be pardoned for
briefly alluding to some of tlie features
which have given The Constitution
prominence among southern papers.
I. It prints all the news, both by
mail and telegraph.
11. Its telegraphic service is fuller
than that of any other Georgia paper—
its special dispatches placing it upon a
footing, so far as the news is concerned,
with the metropolitan journals.
ill. Its complication of tlie news by
mail is tlie freshest of the best, compri
sing everything of interest in the cur
rent newspaper literture of tlie day.
IV. Its editorial department is full,
bright and vivacious, and its paragaphs
and opinions are more widely quoted
than those of any southern joiiual. It
discusses all questions of public interest
and touches upon all current themes.
V. “ Bill Arp,” the most genial of
humorists, will continue to contribute
to its columns. “ Old Si ” and “Uncle
Remus” will work in their special
fields, and will furnish fun both in
prose and verse.
XT. It is a complete news, family and
agricultural journal. It is edited with
the greatest care, and its columns con
tain everything of interest in tlie do
main of polities, literature and science.
VII. In addition to these, full re
ports of tlie supreme court and of the
proceedings of the general assembly,
will be published, and no pains will be
; spared to keep tile paper up to its pre
j sent standard.
What the Critics Say.
1 The best paper in the south.—Keokuk
Constitution.
The ablest paper of the south.—Bur
lington Hwwkeye.
One of the most desirable journal * in
the country.—Detroit Free Press.
The brightest and newsiest daily pa
per in the south.—Baltimore Gazette
There is no better newspaper in the
southern states.—Charlotte Observer.
Steadily advancing toward the posi
i tion of a metropolitan journal.—Selma
j Times.
i It is one of the brightest, mosttmter
prising, and withal most liberal of
I southern journals,—Brooklyn Times.
i Not content with being the best news
paper in tire soulli, is determined to he
the best looking also.—Philadelphia
Times.
Ably edited and newsy always, in its
new dress it is as attractive in form as
it had heretofore been in matter.—N.
O Democrat.
The Atlanta Constitution with its
new clothes, is now the handsomest, as
it has long been the liest, newspaper in
the south.—N. Y. Star.
The Atlanta Constitution has been
making steady progress the last few
rears, and may now fairly claim a place
. among the first half-dozen southern
newspapers.—Springfield Republican.
To say that Tiik Constitution is one
;of the brightest, newsiest journals of
the country, a paper of which the whole
; south may well be proud, is but to
state a self-evident fact apparent to all.
—Washington Post.
The Terms.
The daily edition is served by mail or
carrier at $lO per annum, postage pre
.paid.
The weekly edition is served at $1.30
per annum, or ten copies for $12.30.
Agents wanted in every city, town
and county in Georgia and surrounding
states. T,literal commissions paid and
territory guaranteed. Send for circulars.
Advertisements ten. fifteen and twen
ty cents per line, according to location.
Contract rates furnished upon applica
tion to tile business office.
Correspondence containing impor.
taut news, briefly put. solicited from all
pars of the country.
All letters or dispatches must he ad
dressed to
I'll F. CONSTITUTION,
Atlanta. Ga.
THE
FIELD
A
N
D
FIRESIDE,'
DEVOTED TO AORICUL
TURE, GENERAL NEWS ,
And miscellany,
Is published ©very
Thursday morning at
the old Printing Of
fice Building Mariet
ta, Geo. S h fitter ip ti on
$1 in advance or
e • v
$1 50 if payment i*
delayed. :
* *• • .- -G
* T
* ..•* . ?■-.
* >*
Advertising at RsdaCtd Rates.
.1 PliTll.
Of all kinds in the
moat approved style
and at reduced prices.
- • >
*• ‘ *
J
MTirTIIE BEST
i ‘i .. V
of material and doing’
our own labor, we of
fer ourselves as candi
dates for a share of
public favor.
Respectfully,
It. M. GOODMAN A SONS
'
EnronrAge Home Indntry
William Spencer,
Clt BROKER MTJtKKT,
MARIETTA, GEORGIA.
DEALER IK
LEATHER
of all kinds, Shoe Findings and Har
ness Mountings, Upper Leather, Har
ness Kip and Calf Skina, Memlorh Mid
Home Tan &>le Leather.
tW~ I have employed as wnrhatioei,
Mr. G. T. Swann, and will eerrjr on u
first class
Boot and Shoe Shop
where we guarantee a* good and cheap
Boots ami Shoes made as elsewhere.—
Spend your money at home and it wtll
come hack after a few days. Encour
age home industry ami you build up
the prosperity of your neighborhood.
Marietta,'fa.\ March ltt.-ISTS. ly