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TOL. t
DUBLIN, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 2, 1878,
NO. 16.
“PULL HIMDOWXV’
BY HORACE B. DURANT.
This phrase explains itself so well,
That all know what we mean;
So we shall only briefly dwell
On cases daily seen
Throughout the country, far and wide,
In city and in town; •
When by the rabble crowd ’tis cried,
Of some one—"Pull him down!”
Within the field of politics,
This is a common cry,
Well known as some low, party trick—
And so goes harmless by;
For worth and talent sure will win,
At last, the victor’s crown;
And laugh to scoru the Kile din
That wrangles—“Pull him down!”
In other spheres of life we see
The same attempt is made;
Aud struggling genius still must be
With all-its tortures paid;
Yet real worth is never known
Until it meets the frown,
And hears detraction’s zealous tone
Growl forth to—"Pull him down!”
The lawyer makes his maiden speech
In some poor client’s cause;
And ruus the gauntlet, then, of each
One wise in “secs and saws;”
lie must receive full many a stroke,
Ere he may wear his gown;
Each prattler in the law will croak,
And try to "Pull him down!”
The author toils from year to 3'car,
Neglected and unknown;
Alternate tossed with hope and fear,
Till strong his soul hath grown;
Yet when the world would link kisuamc
With honor and renown,
Envenomed hate would blot his fame,
And clamor—"Pull him down!”
With honest heart the toiler goes
Forth to his weary round;
Each day from morn until its close.
You hear his busy sound;
Yet vulgar pride beholds, with scorn,
llis face begrimmed aud brown; .
And sloth, uot half so nobly born,
Still strives to "Pull him dowur
HAD DELPHINE A HEART?
By Lillian Louise Gilbert.
Chapter L.
"And Delphi mi?”
"Will not feel it,”
"Why?”
"Because she has no heart.”
"Why do you think that? Because
you arc skeptical of all our sox?”
“No; but because Delphine is a
Fretielr woman.”
"But Frenchwomen have hearts!”
"Sometimes; believe mo, she lias
none. She once udmitted the fact to
me, though in different terms.”
"Well, I hope yon are right, Har
old; but I am glad it’s not my lover
who has deserted me for another wo
man. I think it would kill me.”
"You don’t know yourself, Marga
ret. Bnt shall we go back? I hear
the‘Sophia,’and you are promised
to me for it. By-the-by, did you
over hear the romantic story of that
waltz? No? Then let me tell you.
As you know, it was composed by
the elder Stranss, and for the court
festivities on the occasion of the mar
riage of the Princess Sophia. The
ovening after the wedding a grand
ball was given, at which all the dis
tinguished guests were present; and
the music was furnished by Strauss’
world-famous orchestra.
"The romance is this: Strauss
himself was in love with the princess,
but, of course, their positions sepa
rated them ns far as seas could di
vide; so lie stood grimly, and watch
ed her dance with her new-made
husband until the waltz began.
Couple after couple whirled past
him; but he saw only the bride as
she swept round and round on her
husband’s arm. Faster and faster
grew the notes, and madder and
madder the dancers; still the great
leader saw only that one couple.
Worn-out, pair after pair dropped in
to their seats, till only the imperial
couple wero left. Then the music grow
slower and slower, and m soft, pas
sionate cadences, like the hidden ag
ony of a broken-heart, almost died
away; theu swelled on the air; and i
still the composer never moved, nev
er lifted his eye from the royal pair,
who whirled on and on as if entran
ced. The lady’s cheek grew marble,
her head dropped on her partner’s
shoulder. On, on they swept, for
ced by a subtile but irresistible influ
once; and still the music fell and
rose, and rose and fell; and still that
one eye watched. The guests gazed
spell-bound. On and on the dancers
moved, till suddenly the vibrating
tones ceased. Tho bride droppod
from her husband’s arms. A shiver
ran through tho crowd.
" ‘Seo the princess thore!*
"Her husband stooped and lifted
her up. She knew him not—she
was dead.”
"Your story is very strange; aw
ful, indeed, if it be true. Do you
suppose it really happened?”
"No; but isn’t it a fino romance
to attach to a piece of music? That
waltz has always had a double atrac-
tion for me since I hoard of it. Shall
we go in?”
<‘In a moment, Harold. I can’t
get tho thought of Delphine out of
my mind. Somebody must tell her.”
"Yes; and you are the ono to do
it.”
"I cannot, indeed I cannot,
Harold. . I could not doal such a
blow; and hero too! Lot mo wait till
all is over. Hark! Hear tho sea
roar. If Delphine were I, she would
drown herself this very night.”
"Not being you, she will be exact
ly the same Delphine we have always
known.”
Tho light shone brilliantly as
ever; the flowers smelt as sweet; the
throng of dancers was as gay; tho
music sparkled, and rolled, and
thrilled through the air as before.
But to Margaret Worth it was all
changed. She could only see ono of
the crowd that swept past her.
Delphine La Roche was waltzing;
not like .the mad company about
her, but slowly sailing down the cen
ter, easy, careless, apparently, of all.
Many stared:- with curiosity to
learn, if they could, how she bore
the desertion of her lover. Some
looked the tenderness and sympathy
they dared not express. No one knew
she had heard it yet. Still she sail
ed on, and on, and still they wonder
ed, and pitied, and wondered again.
At last, as they reached the door,
she stopped, bowed good-night to her
partner, and stepped lightly up
stairs.
Margaret seized the opportunity,
and as Delphine closed her door, tap
pod. The door swung back, and
Delphine said, "Well?”
"Delphine,” began Margaret, ten
derly.
"You have come to toll me of
Laurence Garthwaite. I know it
from his own hand. There is the
letter; road it, if you like,” and she
held it out.
No emotion, neither sadness, nor
outraged love spoke in those tones.
So Margaret, with an unreturned
pressure of tho hand, went down
stairs; but she heard a voice say, "I
shall not need you to-night, Janet.”
Then a lock clicked, and Dclphinc’s
maid passed Margaret on tho way.
Alone, the poor girl flnng liorself
on tho bed, and with one gasping
sob buried her head in tho pillow.
“Oh, Laurence, Laurence!” she
cried. "I did love you, indeed,
indeed I did! But I thought my
power over yon irresistible. You
warned me not to try you too much,
and I did not heed you. Oh, my
darlirg! are you lost to me forever?
Shall I never see yon, never again be
to you what I have been? I believ
ed when you walked, and talked,
ttnd laughed, and danced, with that
bad woman, who stole you from me,
that yon were trying to pique mo in
to tenderness, and I resolved to bo
colder. Had I only known—had I
only known!”
Deeper into the pillow her head
sunk, aud the wild sobs ended in
moans.
Soon the fierce pride came hack.
With blazing eyes and heaving bo
som she cried, "Bnt you, Society,
for whom I have sacrificed my heart’s
life, you shall never know my sor
row! You taught mo that men were
the rightful slaves of women; that
they only wanted a word or look
make them happy. Falso teacher,
you have broken the heart that be
Moved you!”
The softer mood returned, and
she sobbod again, "Laurence my
darling! come hack to me; savo mo
from myself! I’shall dio without
you! Sho doesn’t love you! She
can’t love you as I do! If you would
only come hack, I would bo so gen
tlo, dearest, and tender, you would
love me as you nevor did before.
Aud it is too Into—too late!” -
Worn-out, sho lay for hours sleep
ing that dreamless, death-like sleep
of utter exhaustion.
Casual observers noticed no change
in her breakfast; but Margaret saw
that the dark lines under tho oyos
wero a shado darker, and that tho
palo face had grown ashon. That
was not iudicativo of a Heart-break,
cortainly, hut at least, of a restless
night. ’Twos nil oven Margaret:
could see; and Harold, behind his
napkin, wliisporod, “Sans colur
Chapter 11
Delphine La Rocho was bora m
Franco. Mudamo La Roche, dying
in Delpliinc’s infancy, loft her to
tho solo charge of her father, a man
of a singularly reserved disposition,
who, though fond of his daughter,
know not how to draw her out, and
establish that most porfoct of re
lations, the relation botwcon parent
and child. Under tho care of gover
ness, and the superintendence of her
father, the girl grew up to lie as re
served, and, it seemed, colder than
her parent. There was none of the
exuberance of youth and health in
her; apparently no enjoyment of life
when she emerged from girlhood
into womanhood.
In his early life Monsieur La Roche
had had an intimate friend, a young
American,' named Garthwaite, who
had been studying at tho University
with him. Ami as it begun in a jest,
so it continued till it grew re be an un
derstanding, that if thoy^mnrricd
and had children, tho eldest boy and
girl should marry, provided the boy
was tho elder.
Tho friends parted. In time the
Frenchman heard of tho marriage of
tlie American, and in duo season the
birth of a son. Ho himself remain
ed single for a few years longer.
When, he, too, was married, and a
daughter was given him, he said
“Now shall my friend and I be uni
ted in our children.”
He wrote Mr. Garthwaite of tho
event, and added that as soon as lii«
wife was able to travel, they would
come to America to pay him a visit.
Madame La Roche never recover
ed, and tho journey was not taken
till Delphine was fairly a woman.
When her father propgsed to Dol-
phinc to visit America, sho assented
as coldly as she would had he asked
her to take a morning walk.
She knew of the tacit betrothal of
herself and Laurence Garthwaite;
but as he had never shown any de
sire to see her, she controlled all
curiosity in regard to him. -*—
After a time, they landed in New
York to find Mr. Garthwaite an in
valid, and Laurence in close attend
ance on him.
"La Roche,” the elder Garthwaite
had said, when they met, "I should
have sent my hoy long ago to see you
and your beautiful child, only I could
Hot spare him. Since his mother
left us I have had no nurse but him.”
Tho meeting of Laurence and
Delphine was, of conrsc, embarras-
ing to both; but as no reference was
made by any one to tho relation they
bore, or would bear, it was less awk
ward than sho had feared.
One evening os Delphine stood
alone in the twilight, watching the
passers in tho street, Laurence came
in, and placed himself beside her.
For a while neither spoke. 11c
broke the silence.
"Delphine, I suppose it is for me
to broach the subject of our relation.
Of course, as yet it could not be a
question of liking or disliking on
either side; • hut still I wish to have
some understanding with you. I
propose this: that for the present
to allow this matter to rest os it is.
It gives great pleasure to those
who are nearest ns; to me it is not dn
irksome bond, and I trust not to you.
But if at any timo cither should desire
to be free, that ouo shall frankly say
so, and the tie bo broken. Madem
oiselle La Roche*, I offer you my
hand,” and he held it toward her.
Delphine, who had been painfully
anxious to end the interview which
she' knew must come, answered,
"Laurence, I am glad that you see
our positioil as it truly is, instead of
making protestations it would be un •
natural you should feel. I am con
tent to abide by your decision. Mr.
Garthwaite, I accept your hand,”
and sho laid her own in it.
This was Dclphinos first betrothal.
Soon after Mr. Garthwaite died,
and Monsieur La Roche, having no
tics in Fra rice, decided to remain for
u time, at least, in this country.
So ho took a houso, OBtahlishcd
Delphine as mistress of it, and set
tled down to his old ways. Sho went
into society, and at once 'attracted at
tention. Sho was a hollo par excel
lence; not tho kind of hollo who dan
ces and flirts with overy man she
meets, but tho one whoso individual
ity makes her culturally tho center of
tho circle in which sho moves.
So timo went on, and Laurence
was Dolphino’s constant companion.
Oneo more Delphine stood alone
in tho twilight, and once more Laur-
crcc came and stand beside her.
This time he said to her, "Delphine
have offered you my hand, I now
offer you my heart.”
Laying his hand on her head, he
turned it so the full light from
tho street-lamp fell upon her face;
and. ho saw it flush, then pifle, ns she
answered.
‘And Laurence, again I accept
your offer.”
This was Dolphino’s second be
trothal.
For a few days they were happy,
for she allowed nature to triumph
over conventionality. Then she
thought, woman-like, to try her
powfcr; a dangerous experiment, al
most inevitably ending in misery to
her who yields to tho temptation.
Delphine became cold; would offer
her lover only her hand when he
came to her, rarely her check—nevor
her lips. At first Laurence thought
this a whim, and took no notico of
it; but when tho coldness lasted for
weeks, unable longer to keep silent,
he said:
"Dolphino, why do you treat me
so? Do you not love me? Wus it
all a wretched mistake, and have you
wakened to tho knowledge? If so,
in heavens name, toll mo! Don’t try
to bind me by a tie that does not
exist.”
"Laurence, my feelings toward
you aro unchanged; but, remombor,
you must not exact too much from
mo.”
"Delphino, I am willing to make
concessions to you, more, perhaps,
than I ought; but there is a limit be
yond wliich I cannot, and will not
go. Remember, my child, and do
not press mo too hard.”
Ho believed that sho loved him,
and that after awhile sho would ac
cept his will.
Sho did love him; but it was plcus-
ant to try how far sho could go and
still hold him—and she would not
yield.
Soon they wont to Long Branch;
but there Delphi no’s mood did not
chance.
Among tho people at the hotel
was a woman whoso life seemed
made up of flirtations. Fashionably
reared, rather intelligent, ail that ex
istence meant to her was the excite
ment of society.
Delphine’s disregard of Ada Lane
made Ada her enemy; uni she de
termined to win young Garthwaite,
in order to triumph over her rival.
At first Laurence thought to pique
Delphine into sonic display of her
•'oelings by apparent devotion to Ada,
So he laughed, and talked, and rodo
with her, until ho began to think
there was danger in it. Still Del
phino was immovable. Ho tried to
believo sho did Hot care; then to jus
tify himself through her coldness.
At last ho drifted on, little thinking,
little caring whither.
Delphino preserved her outward
calmness, though her heart uclied.
But she could not stoop, sho told
herself, to call him back. lie must
come himsolf, or not at all.
Ono afternoon as Laurence and
Ada wore strolling on the bluff she
suddenly asked.
"Do you go to the hop to-night?”
"I suppose so.”
“ You go because you nro tied to a
woman’s apron-string.”
"I am not awaro of being tied to
any woman’s apron-string.”
"Oh! what could have givon rise
to all the reports on the subjoot?”
"What reports? I know of none
that concern mo at all.”
"Why, what everybody is talking
about. It is currently stated that
the proud Lawrence Garthwaite is so
very much in love with a certain lady
that ho permits himsolf to he snubbed
by her in public as well ns private,
ami scarcely dares to call his numo
his own. They even call you tho
patient martyr. Isn’t it pleasant to
have such stories circulating about
one?”
"Who says all this?”
“Every ono. It’s tho tulle all over
our sot.”
"Is it, indeed? Our set must ho
mutlo up of simpletons. Tho idea of
my delicacy so outrageously mis
understood! ‘Tho patient martyr!’
I like that. I shall disprovo the ab
surd things said of mo. As I fool
how, all my affection is gono. I’d
.marry any one rather than her.”
"Would you marry me?”
“If you wished mo to.”
"I do, clearest. I have always
loved you. Tako me!” and sho hold
her arms toward him.
IIo looked at her, drew her hand
within his own, arid said,
"It shall bo so.”
In an hour they wero gono. Tho
rest is told.
(concluded next week.)
• The Execution of Sir Walter
Raleigh.
The morning being cold, tho sher
iff wished him to warm himsolf at
tho fire. "No, good Mr. Sheriff,”
ho said, "lot us dispatch, for within
this quarter ol‘ an hour my agno will
como npon’mo, and if I bo not dead
before that mine enemies will say I
quake for fear.” After having pray
ed, ho rose up saying, "Now I am
going to God!” Ho felt the edgo of
tho axe, observing to Die sheriff,
"Tin a sharp medicine, but a sound
cure for all diseases.” Ho then laid,
his head upon tho block, and was
told to place himself so that his face
should look to.tho cast; he answered,
"It matters not how the head lay,
provided tho heart was right. The
oxccutioner hesitated to striko, when
Raleigh cried out, "What dost thou
fear? striko, man!” his head was
severed in two blows. IJorn 1552,
died 1018.
Schccr’s Firc-erackcrs.
Mr. John School* is a bald-headed
Dutchman who is too careful of his
pennies to spend them for fireworks,
which lie considers "all tain foolish
ness.” Consequently his son Jacob,
a likely boy of seven, had to find
some other way of expressing his
patriotism on tho Fourth of .July.
On tho evo of last Independence day,
however, old John astonished his
wife by bringing home a full box of
fire-crackers.
"Ah,” said ho to his frau, as ho
held up the box; "Ah, Katrine, I isli
got. yoost, del* ting for Yoekup- somc-
dings vot vill tiolclo dot lectio Deutcli-
or to poiccs. Dese fire-cracks vill go
off so quick und scare der cat und
dog all over mit der house.”
Early on tho following morning
Jacob was busy sotting off his fire
crackers, and enjoyed himself with
great spirit. Nothing serious occur
red, however, until his father, as
usual, lay down to tako a snooze
after dinner. Then Jacob, by his
mother’s order, set fire to his only
remaining fire-cracker, and placing
it close to the bald Bpot on his
father’s head, anxiously awaited the
result. In a moment, with a start
ling fizz-hum, tho work of a terrible
catastrophe had begun. About two-
thirds of the charge of powder flash
ed against tho buld pate of the
unconscious sleeper, while a fragmont
of tho burning firo-crackor Chanced
to drop into the mouth of a powder-
flask; which hung noar tho bed. In
an instant, a terrible explosion oc
curred, blowing tiro flask to poices,
and setting on flro tho few remain
ing hairs dn tho bond of the unlucky
Dutchman.
With a Scream like that of a pan
ther, ho hounded out of hod. His
oyos gazed amazcdly about tho room,
and no yelled “murder 1” at tho top
of his voice. The silonco which fol
lowed tho noise of tho oxplosion
calmed his fcavs. Then ho took in
the situation at a glnneo, and gave
vent to his fooling in theso words:
"Mino vifo, \oro isli dot leedle
Yoekup, dot isli plowed mino bed
out, und purned dor rest of mino
pruins off mit his tain foolishness?
Vore* ish ho? I dells you lie isli
botthor gono und hide miself pooty
quick, or like unodor shakass I vill
kick him until I jnako do bohint of
his pants so soro as ho can no more
sit down mit a chair. Ho is von tam
loodlo crazy fool, und you shust vuib
until I ketch dot son of a shackassj”
m,
Had Really Arrived.
Two Germans mot in San Francis
co recently. After affectionate greot-
g tho following dialogue ensued;
"Fen you sav you lief arrived?”
"Yesterday.”
"You came dat Horn around?”
"No.”
"Oh! I see! You came dot Isth
mus across.”
"No.”
"Oh! Den you .come dot hwd
over?”
"No,”
Den you bof not arrived,”
"Oli, yes! 1 it of arrived. I com#
dot Mexico through.”
Tho Heart.—Tho Work It Does.-
Our Blood.
The -heart—the reservoir of tho
blood and tho great central organ of
tho circulation—is a hollow, muscu
lar organ, in tho form of an irregular
cono. It is enclosed in a membra
nous bag, but loosely, so as to allow
freo motion. Though forming ono
muscle, there are two distinct hearts,
each side being divided from tho
other by a Wall. It contains four
cavities, each of wliich holds betweon
from two to three ounces of blood;
tho whole quantity of blood in an
adult mun varies from twonty-fivo to
twenty pounds. The heart contracts
4,000 times in an hour; there conse
quently pass through the heart cverv
hour TOO pounds of blood. In other
words, every drop of blood in tho
system pusses through the heart
twenty-eight times in one hour, or
once every two minutes.
Cardinal Franchi left no will.
His fortune is valued at *100,000,
which will bo divided between Ins
brother, Signor Curzio, a notary of
Rome, aud his three murried sisters.
A gentleman lying on liis death
bed ealled to his coachniun, who hud
boon an old servant, and said: "Ah!
Tom, I am going a long arid rugged
journey, worse than ever you drove
mo.” Oh, dear sir,” replied tho fol
low*, (ho having been an indifferent
master) "never lot that discourage
you, for it’s all down hill,”
Tho proprietor of a bone-mill ad
vertises that those sending their own
bones to bo ground will bo attended
to with punctuality.
Resolutions of condolonco, con
cerning a deceased member, were
recently passed by a Williamsburg
society. The closing paragraph read
as follows: "Resolved, that a copy of
these resolutions ho engrossed and
forwarded to tho deceased.”
In Hope’s remarkable story of
A nniasivs there is tho record of a
Mussulman who whon fortunate had
bnt a single oxclamation: "God is
great!” Whon his good luck turned
ho still faltered not and exclaimed^
"God is great!” Whon reduced to
tho the necessity of demanding alms
in the streets of Constantinople, hulf-
naked, abandoned by friends of sun
nier times, sick and leprous, lie did
not curse his fato or fling blasphemy
in tho face of heaven, bnt still ejacu
lated: "God is great!”
An oxcliango wants to know
whether insects can talk. Can’t sav
as to that, but you can hot your last
shekel some of them cun occasional
ly inspire tho very liveliest kind of
conversation in others.
