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VOL. 1.
. > v '
TRUE LOVE.
DUBLIN, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, JUNE 27, 1878.
H~
BY ELLA WHEELER.
I think true love is something like a tree;
The oak, that lifts its branches to the sky,
The woodman’s axe may strike it fatally,
Or it may fall whqn mighty winds sweep by,
And where it grew, the flowers may bloom
instead, _
And all may seem as though the tree was
dead.
But underneath the grass and flowers, there
lies, . -
Hid from the gaping world, a tiny root,
A little living germ that never dies,
And ever and anon its branches shoot
Tip through the earth, and mock, mid strive
to lie
The mighty forest king—the parent tree.
So love may wither at the hands of Fate, ,
Or fall beneath the killing winds that blow,
And other loves may spring up soon or late,
And flowers of forgetfulness may grow
Over the spot where love once grew instead,
And we may think the old-time position dead.
And-stlll the little germ lies in the heart
8 > closely hidden, that it is not known,
And ever and ftnon its branches start—
Vain mimics of the passion that has flown,
Though love once slain, can live not os of
yore, .*
I think its ghost will haunt us evermore.
The Modern Ruth.
It was a terrible break-up. The lov
ing husband, the tender father had gone
to his rest, and now Ruth and her moth
er had to face the world alone.
_ Nor was this all. Mr. Hunter had
been generally considered one of the
wealthiest farmers ir the neighborhood,
but lie was now found to have died in
solvent. For years ho had been living
beyond his means, “I told you so,”
said one of the wiseacres, 4 'when ho sent
liis darter to school in Boston, as if the
• schools - here warn’t • good enough; I
knowedliow it would be.” The farm
was /mortgaged for its entire value, and
% was immediately foreclosed; and when
the other .debts wsre - Raid, there was
' not a dollar left.
Ruth and her mother would have no
roof even to shelter them, if Ruth had
not inherited from a maiden aunt, a
little, tumblo : down cottage,, with an a-
cre or two of pasture land, on the out
skirts of the village. Thither the two
mourners repaired, with the few bits of
furniture the law had allowed them,
and began the hardest of all struggles,
the battle with poverty on the part of
woman, a battle rendered the more dif
ficult in this case, because both had
been tenderly, even luxuriously nurtur
ed# and had never before known what it
was to have to deny themselves.
"I am such a burden to yon, Ruth,”,
moaned the widow, who was completely
broken down, not only in spirits, but in
health also. “If it wasn’t for mo, you
could go off somewhere and earn your
living like a lady. You could teach
music, or be a governess, or obtain a sit
uation in a school. But while I’m an
invalid, and I suppose I shall now al r
ways be one, you are tied to my bedside.”
Ruth was of a different character
from her mothor. She was more ener
getic, more self-reliant, more heroic.
She had also the courage of youth bn
her side. s -
“God will provide,” she said.’ “He
helps those- who . help themselves.
What with my needle, our cow, and the
Vegetable garden I shall make, we will
get along famously.’’
. So this refined, cultivated girl, H who
had been reared, as it were, amid rose-
leaves, went to work, uncomplainingly,
to support her mother and herself. For
awhile, too, it seemed as if lior confi
dence was prophetic. Mrs. Hunter re
covered her health so as to be able to be
about. Everything went well. At
tho end of the first summer, Ruth,
proudly countiug up her gains, said,
“Mother, dear, we have not only sup
ported ourselves, but havo saved money:
wo are getting rich.”
But, alas! different times came. In the
autumn, Mrs. Hunter fell ill of rheu
matic fever, for the situation of the cot
tage was low and damp. She had to
return to her bed again. She was no
longei* able to help Ruth with her nee
dle. . Poor Ruth could now earn but lit
tle hersolf, her time being occupied so
much in nursing her mother. Tho doc
tor’s bill and the medicines soon absorb
ed her small savings. She began to fall
bohind. The cow, finally, had to . be
sold, and at last, in order to avert abso
lute starvation, Ruth was“c6mpclled to
mortgage tho cottage.
In the two years that followed, mat
ters went from bad to worse. Mrs.
Hunter still remained bed-ridden. Do
all she could, Ruth was unable to make
both ends meet. The interest on the
mortgage fell into arrears- At last, in
tho third summer of Ruth’s orphanage,
a legal notice came, that, unless the. in
terest was paid up, the cottage wttld be
sold.
Tho day before this notico was served,
Ruth had gone in person to lawyer Dent,
hoping to touch his-heart. But ho was
deaf to her tears and - representations.
Ho had the reputation of being merci
less, and Ruth saw now that the charac
ter was deserved. “It’s no use your
coming hero,” he said rudely, “I’m ac
ting for others fend not for myself: you’d
better spend your time in getting to
gether tli<^ interest you owe. I can’t
interfere. Pay mtf the money, or the
law must take its course.”
When Mrs. Hunter heard tho result
of this interview, nnd when afterward
tho formal notice was served, she mopp
ed feebly and turned her face to the
wall. “We shall have to bog, or go to
the poor-house, or die on the road,” she
said. “Oh! that I should over have liv
ed - to see this day.
Ruth herself was at the end of her re
sources. For awhile, she lay prostrate
on the bed# whore she had flung herself
beside her mother, the two mingling
their tears. But the bravo girl rallied
at last. She remembered that there was
nothing in the house to eat,, and that
she had no money to buy anything with.
At first, she thought of going ‘to the
store and bogging for a little more cred
it; bub when she recalled how curtly
this liadbcen refused, only a week bo-
foro, she abandoned the idea in despair.
Suddenly it flashed upon her that the
wheat was being cut on tho great Gres
ham farms. In the old Squire’s time,
the poor had been allowed to come with
a sickle and cut what they wished: it
was a scriptural custom, which the Gres
hams had maintained from father to
soil, for generations. The old Squire
was dead, but Ruth had no doubt but
that tho privilege would still bo accord
ed, and looping up her skirt, to look as
nu .ii like one of her rustic neighbors ns
possible, she took a sickle; and wont
forth like her namesake of old.
Her heart did not begin to fail her
until just before she reached tho har
vest-field, when she remembered that
the heirs of tho old Squire, whoever
they were, were said to be abroad, and
that lawyer Dent was their agont.
“New men, new measures,” she said,
and stopped at tho gate, with a beating
heart. “What if I am driven off?”
But the thought of her sick mother,
and of the empty cupboard, made her
desperate. Sho lifted the latch and
went ip. _ *
The reapers were sweeping on ahead, in
a long, graceful line; others, far behind,
were binding up sheaves: and an ovor-
seer, or what seemed on was on horse
back, directing operat! i. Ruth began
in a comer, near tho gate, far away
from the rest. She looked furtively,
now and then, toward the overseer, and
seeing that he ha'd noticed .hor, yet did
not interfere, she gathered courage.
If she could have'seen herself then, in
a mirror, though the least vain of her
sex, she would have been startled by
her own beauty. Excitement had giv
en a bright glow to her cheeks and. an
even increased brilliancy to her eyes.
Her half rustic attire, coarse as it was,
was admirably adapted to set off her
fine figure; her white arms shonfc daz-
zlingly; every movement was grace.
Suddenly a harsh voice behind cried:
“None of that. Throw down your
sicklo. We’ll have no thieves here.”
Ruth dropped her sickle, trembling
all over, and looked around. Lawyer
Dent stood there, also on horseback,
and his whip was raised monacingly.
Ruth shrank back; her knees gave way
under her; tho harvest-field swam u-
round her; she grew blind;, sho thought
she was dying. She had but one feeling,
one thought, the man was about to
stride her. 6k! tho degradation of it,
worse even than his words of insult.
But she did not faint. Just as every
thing whirled dizzily around her,-just
ns she was losing consciousness,
tho quick thud of a horse was - heard
galloping over the stubblo, and astern
voice addressed lawyer Dent.
“What are you saying to this girl?”
it cried, angrily. "Not telling lioi’ to
go away! How dare you? Didn’t you
know my uncle always-allowed this; ay!
and the Greshams from tiino immemo
rial ? Thank God we havo riever ground
the faces of the poor. I saw yon raise
your whip, threateningly, if I’m ‘not
mistaken. By Jove! If you wore not
an. older mail than myself, I’d thrash
you within an inch of your ilfe, ” ■%'
All of . a sudden, the angry voice
ceased, and the sinker, turning to
Ruth, addressed her in tones as soft as
a woman’s.
“My jioor child,” it said, “don’t
mind Dent, I am master here. Take
up your sickle and cut as much whoat
He stoppod suddenly. Ruth, up to
this point, had stood, with bowod fig
ure, half unconscious, l\er gaze bent, in
shame, on the ground; but fnuohcd by
tlicso kind words, and oven more by the
tone, slio lifted hor eyes,;full of tours,
and gazed at tho speaker.
In that look there was something that
both thrilled and abashed tho bolioldor.
Young Gresham, for such was the horse
man, was due of the handsomest men of
his day, and ho was accustomed to ad
miration; but Ruth’s glance soomed to
say, “Surely, you are more than human;
you are somo knight of chivalry, come
to rescuo mo from a foul enchanter.”—
It was. this that thrilled him with a
strange, wild’feeling of happiness, such
as no woman’s glanco had ever before
awakened. But on the other hand, in
stead of finding himself in the presence
of a village rustic, as ho had expected,
and as the dross led him till this Wery
moment. to believe, he beheld to his
amazement,. a faco, not only of rare
beauty, but ono instinct with that, in
herited, ns well as acquired refinement,
which, for want of a better word, is
called high-brod. • This ho -saw at once,
was no more a village girl, but a young
princess in disguise. And ho had of
fered such a one alms! Ho had spoken
to hor as if she was a menial! Bis usu
al case of manner failed him. He sat
there, dumb, as if himself the cmlm’ifc
Ruth broke, the spell.'
“Oh, sill” she cried, with a sob,
clasping her hands and looking up at
him imploringly. “I'meant no harm.
I used to see other peoplo do what I
did. And—and—wo wore staving—
mother and I—”
Young Mr. Gresham turned asido for
a moment, tg brush away a tear. Look
ing up, ho saw Dent’s byes fastened on
him, and there was a snoor on tho law
yer’s faco.
The young man colored angrily.
“Ride on, if you"please, sir,” lie said
stonily, to the lawyer. “I have some
thing to say to this young Ijody alone,”.
The lawyer obeyed, feeling, perhaps,
that he had gone too far, and wishing
ho had never seen Ruth.
Then young Mr. Gresham,
his hat to Ruth, as if sho had
princess, said*, ^
“I beg a thousand pardons,
settle with Dent to-day, and discharge
him. Beliovo 'mo, I would not, for
worlds, that this had happened.”
- “Oh, sir! don’t, on my account,
quarrel with him,” cried tender-heart
ed Ruth. “He wus only doing what
ho thought his duty. Besides, be
sides—”
“Besides what?” kindly.
“Besides, he holds tho mortgage on
our cottage, and it might make him
harder on us than ever.’’ . * i "
“Mortgage on your cottage! Is it,”
he said, as if asuddon light had broken
on him, “the little house down in tho
meadow?”
A mute nod of_assent was tho reply.
“Then I am talking to Miss Hurftor.
You don’t, you don’t mean to say tho
rascal has been threatening you about
that?”
“Ho is to sell us out next month,”
answered Ruth, looking down, and
feeling, ohi how humiliated.
Something, very like an execration,
broke from Mr. Grcsliam’s lips! if
lifting
boon a
might, perhaps, have been one, but for
tho presonco of Ruth.
IIo stooped from his saddle and offer
ed her his hand.
“Good-by, for the prosent, Miss Hun
ter,” ho said. “But tell your mother
slio need not worry about the mort
gage. I, not Dent, holds it. I used
to know your fathor when l was a boy,
aud down hero; and I shall ever respect
any ono who bears his name.”
With this, ho lifted his lint again,
wheeled his horse and spurred uftor the
discomfited lawyer.
Tho wholo viilugC was agog, tho noxt
day with the nows.that young Gresham,
the heir to the Gresham estatos, had
returned- from Eiiropo, whore he had
boon at hisjupclofe death; hod come
down to Silvorton tho ovoning bofore;
had quarrelled with and discharged law
yer Dent; and had givon out that lie
intended to rosido at G resham Hall, on
tho homo farm, horeaftor, and to look
personally after his affairs. But we an
ticipate.
How Ruth got homo, from tho har
vest field, sho . uover afterward could
toll. All she remembered was that she
had rushed into the house, had flung
horsolf on hor knees by tho sido of tho
bed, and had-sobbed out wildly, “Oh,
mothor! mother, dear! the cottage isn’t
going to bo sold. I havo his word for
it. And God, who has been so good in
that, will now find some way, I know,
for us to get along,”
It had beon nearly an hour after that
before she could rally hor dazed facul
ties sufficiently to give hor mother a co
herent narrative of what had transpir
ed. She had scarcely finished, whon
there was a knock at the door, and a
boy from the storo-kooper brought in
Several parcels, containing tea, ooffoo,
sugar, biscuits, a ham and various oth
er edibles. “Master says ns how ho
heard the missus was sick,” said the
boy, “and so ho sent these tilings, rock-'
oiling as how you was too busy to come
and order’em. You can. pay for’em
whon ‘times is better; and you can have
as much as yon like after this.”
If Ruth had a suspicion that some
kind intercessor had caused this credit,
to bo given to' hor, sho had no proof.
She pondered over tho problom as slio
prepared a hasty meal for her mothor,
and had just cleared the tablo, whon
there was a knock at the door, and
opening it, she saw a high-bred, mid-
dlo-agecl lady, .dressed in a plain, but
stylish walking' fcostumo, who asked,
with a kind smile, aud a voice tho very
echo of young'Mr.. Gresham’s, whon in
its soft mood, if “Mrs. Hunter livod
there;” and on being ansivored in the
affirmative, said, “I know sho is sick,
and don’t soo strangers, but toll her Ma
ria Gresham is hero; avo used to knoAV
each other avoII, Avhon avo were both
girls, more than twenty years ago,; Ijoav
much,my dear,” this to Ruth, Who
hold tho door open for hor, “you look
like your mother, when sho was of your
age.’’’ — .
Mrs. Hunter, at sight of her old
friend, seemed to be almost well again,
Tho tivo talked of former and happior
times, Avhen the poor invalid had boon
the belle of tho village, and then of tho
years of separation, and tho changos
that had taken place, until tho twilight
fell, and Mrs. Gresham, horsolf rising,
said she must go, or she would bo bela
ted.
“Iliad not heard of you for ever so
long, you see,” she said, “and was to6
anxious to Avait till to-morrow. Wo
went abroad when Hubert avos quite
young, that lie might bo educated in
Germany; and avo have been there ovor
since. I don’t know but that avo should
have remained there yot, if uncle hadn’t
died, and Hubert heard things about
his lawyer hero, that made him think
wo had better return. Wo arrived only
last night, 'quite unexpectedly, and my
first inquiry was for you.”
Our story is nearly told. LoAvyor
pci\t, during tho long illness of Old
Qqmro Gresham, that, lasted for years,
had hud tho entire management ot the
Gresham property, and had come to rc-‘
gat'd himsolf as responsible to no one.
So ho had given way to his natural love
of greed, extorting bribes for forbear
ance from all debtors Avho Avcre behind,
and mercilessly ruining those wliowuld
not bribe. When the old squire died,
ho reasoned that the heir Would remain
in Etu’opo, and so became more cruel
and more exacting. It was a ruinor of
this conduct that had brought young
Mr. Gresham home in thoAvay avo have
seen.
It was not many months boforo Ruth
became a bride. Young Mr. Gresham
never forgot that look in tho harvest-
field; it avos a case of love at first Bight;
and not Avith him alone;.for to Rutn he
avos always hor “red-cross knight.”
Everybody said she made the most pop
ular mistress that had ovor lived at
Gresham Hall. Tho reason was that
sho carried Avith ber v into hor neAV and
envied position, .the same devotion
to others, nnd the same nobloness,
which had distinguished her iu lier
years of poverty. - N
NO. 2.
vj.;- !
■W*. CL SMITH,
—Dculor iu—-
DRY GOODS, NOTIONS, BOOTS, SHOES, HARDWARE,
Groories, Family Medicines, Etc.,
BARTOW, NO. I I C. R. R.,*A.
The Best Wool Market in the State I
Tho place whom tho greatest portion of the two last crops of
sovorul counties have been Hold.
Tho place to soli all lclndB of COUNTRY PRODUCE. ’
Tho placo where tho LARGEST STOCK is kept
The place Where FAIR and SQUARE foiling is guaranteed.
* The placo Avhoro tho QUALIFY of goods ore
Tho 'placo whoro you can always got CASH for
WOOL AND COTTON.
Tho placb whoro almost everything wanted in tho way of
3MC;EE] JEl c IK "Jl. USr Dis 033
Is kept at BOTTOM PRICES.
• Tills Interesting piece is found at .
"W“- 0„ S JMZ X Q? DEC ’ S
In South Bnrtbw, near No. 11 0. R. n., Gu
your wool hero aud bo made liHpity. A to*
CALICO AT 4 1-2.
A largo quantity of
Bacon Sides from 6 to 0 i-a.
fOO-r BARBELS OF FLOUR
JustrOcolved, which I offer at $0 to
A CAE L 0 A I) OF CORN
Just received, to soil at 80 cts. A Urge lot of PEAS ju«t received
to sell at OSctS. to «1.00, and other thing* In proportion.
Como oil all who would savo money for themselves.
WILXIAM. C. SMITH.
jimo20-0m.
~w. 3. croasrss & oq.,
—DEALERS IN—
GENERAL MERCHANDISE.
Highest prices allowed for
WOOL, HIDES, ETC.,
Taken in oxehango for goods.
Wo nro selling remarkably Ioav for tho CASH.
Quick sales und small profits is our motto. Wc nover fall to
’ trout you well;
Call on us before purchasing elsewhere, Wo are stUi agents for
the justly celebrated
farmers’ E’x-ieu.cLFlo-w.
ISmrp Farrnr should ham one. It is the heel Plea in
the world. It yon will call on your neiyhtor,
who has one, and see how nicely
it works, you ,
will yet one for yourself They are »o cheap.-
w. B. JONES&CO,
XD-uL-blln, : : . c^a.
junc20-8in . V •
OXXDB]JlX > CASH STOIEfcEJ.
DENNIS KEA,
Holmes Cross-Roads, Ga.
Dcu]or in Foreign and Domestic .
JDIZ-Y GOODS,
Groceries. Hardware, Glass ware, Crockerv-wure, Tin ware,
Huts, Boots, Shoes, School Books, Stationery,
NOTIONS AND FANCY ARTICLE,
And other articles too numerous to mention, all of which will be
sold at tho Lowest Price for CASH or PRODUCE.
These goods lmvo been selected with great care, and are sure (q
give satisfaction to all who may desire to purchase.
June 20-ilm