The Dublin post. (Dublin, Ga.) 1878-1894, March 12, 1879, Image 1

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wm C - . £t v- VOL. I. DUBLIN, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, MARCH 12,1879. NO 39 SWEET MARY. If I had thought thou couldst Itavc dic'd, I might not weep for thee ; But I forgot, when by thy side. That thou couldst ntortal be; It never through my mind had pass’d That time would e’er be o’er. That I on thee should look my last, And thou shouldst smile no more. And still upon thy face I look. And think ’twill smile again ;. And still the thought I would not brook, Thnt. I must look in vain / But when I speak, thou dost not say What thou ne’er left’st unsaid, And now I feel, as well I may. , SwcA Mary / thou art dead / If thou wouldst stay even as thou art, All cold and all serene, I still might press thy silent heart, And where thy smiles have been / While e’en thy chill bleak corse I have, Thou seemest still my own, But there I lay thee in thy grave— And I am now alone / I do not think, where’er thou art, Thou hast forgotten me ; , And I perhaps, may soothe this heart, In thinking too, of thee ; Yet, there was, round thee such a dawn Of light ne’er seen before, As fancy never could have drawn, And never can restore. THE RICH HUSBAND. .. “Wonders will never cease,” said Mrs. Noakes, as she opened a letter she had found beside her plate at breakfast. “Here is cousin Corner coming home after all these years, and Hitch a letter! Just listen, my dear: \ Dear Cousin:—l suppose you have all made up your minds flhit I am dead, but I’m alive as you see, and coming home. I’m tired of mere money-grubbing; and those who have made fortunes know that ‘ they need something else in this world. I menu to end my days among my rel atives, and, between you and me, I shall put them to the test. I want to find out who are really my friends, and who court me for other reasons; and what I ask you to do is to make them think me a very poor man, quite out of pocket. Bless me, I’m laughing out loud as I write! You should hear me. To make them think that I am poor, and that it would be a charity to ask me to pay them visits, and invite me now and then to dinner, and all that/ There • I go again, laughing till the room rings! And in this way I can dis cover mv true friends. I shall come to your house first dressed in chaiv actor. I know it is an old joke quite a thing out of the plays and novels; but I trust it will succeed. Yours, very affectionately, Obadiah Corner. P. S.—Expect me Thursday. *“If that is not the most amusing thing,” said Mrs. Noakes; “coming home so rich that, he is suspicions'Df his relatives, and afraid of being courted for money. And a bachelor too. Dear, dear! Poor Obediah Corner, who used lo be the black sheep of the family, and whom we never believed would come to any good! How every thing does change about iu this world! Life isacheck eiboard, to bo sure. William, wlmt a splendid thing it would be for Ara bella Muffit.” “What would be a splondid thing for Arabella—a chockermun ?” asked Mr. Noukes. “Oil, Mr, Noukes!” cried his wife; “dou't pretend to be stupid, because you are not, my dear, and you don’t do yourself justice.. I mean cousin Obadiah.” “Cousin Obadiah would bo a good thing for Arabella. Oh—yes—yes —y-e-s!” said Mr. Noukes. “Oh! I see—yon mean a good mutch for her. But Arabella Muffit, though a most excellent person, is no longer young, and she’s never been hand some, my dear.” v “That’s so ridiculous!” said Mrs. Noukes. “Arabella is much young er then Obadiah, and by no means so plain us he is. But*that is the way with you* men. The older aud uglier they get, the younger and prettjoi* thoy think their wives should be. Boys of twenty sometimes full in love with women of thirty; but men of sixty never think of any age beyound sixteen when they choose wives.” “Very true, indeed/’ said Mr. Noakes. “And very ridiculous,” said Mrs. Noakes. “At all events, I’ve an affection for Arabella, and Pll do all I can to further her interest; and don’t forget that we must keep Obadiah’s secret from the rest of tlie relatives. I shall give Arabella a hint of the real state of the ease, lint, not another soul shall know a word beyond what Obadiah has told me to tell them.” “Well, women must ho match makers, I snppoac,” said Mr. Noakes as he swallowed his last cup of coffee and glanced at the clock; but don’t calculate too much on success in this affair, my dear.” Then he took his hat and coat and departed for those regions colloquial ly known as “town,” wliero men of business hi^p 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 in terview with the Arabella of whom she had spoken to her husband. Arabella Muffit, known among her friends as little Miss Muffit, was a very small black-eyed lady of about forty-fiye years old, who lived in a tiny bouse principally furnished with specimens of all fancy work.that bad been fashionable for the last twenty five years. She had no near relatives, and could remember none but the grand father who left her the small proper ty on which she now lived, but she had connections who took tea with her occasionally, and with whom she dined at times; for the rest, clmroli- going, needle-work and books occu pied her time. She opened the door for Mrs. Noakes herself, and, having kissed her on both cheeks, escorted her to the bed-room above, where she was busy with a chair cover. ‘Now we can have a nice chat,” said she; “and you’ll stay to lunch, won’t you, Martha?” Martha promised to stay, afid, haying taken off her cloak and hat, dropped* into a chair and produced Obadiah Corner’s letter. “There,” she said, “read that, Arabella.” Arabella read it changing color as she did so. “Dear me,” she said, “how ro mantic he must be. He never used to bo romantic. I suppose lie has changed very much in these fiye-and-. twenty years. Ho must he fifty-sev en now. And to think of his having made a fortune and wanting to prove his-frionds sincere. Martha, do you think you ought to betray him?” “No, I don’t” said Martha, “and I shall tell no one but you. I had a motive in telling you, and, as ho says in a > postscript, lie’ll be here on Thursday, I want you to dine with us on Thursday and meet hjm.” Poor Arabella looked in the glass sadly “He'll find me dreadfully changed,” said she; “but I’ll come, Martha.” Bless you, wo all eliangc/ We can’t help that,” said Mrs. Noakes. I never worry about it;” and they got to talking about Obadiah and what ho used to do, and what he had done, and found the subject so inter esting that they could keep it up over tiio cold chicken, sponge-cake, etc., that composed their lunch. When Thursday evening arrived it found little Miss Muffit. iu Mm. Nonke’s parlor, sitting opposite a burly-looking man, whose nose was rather red and whose eyes were not honest, candid eyes by any means. He was dressed very shabbily, to say the least, and had whispered to Mrs. Noakes in the hall, “take notice of this coat; it curries out the character doesn’t it? I look like a seedy old follow who has had ill-luck, don’t I?” And he nudged Mr. Noakes with one elbow and Mm. Noakes with the othor, while they mentally agreed that lie certainly did look the char acter. most thoroughly. On the whole it was rather a pleas ant. evening, and Arabella and Oba diah got on finely. lie promised to take tea at her house in a few days and saw her homo at ten o’cloek. The rest of his commotions, not having read Obadiah’s letter, wore not dclightod at his return. Thoy saw him shabbier than ever, and thoy were vory careful to keep at a dis tance. Mrs. Noukes often smiled to her self to think what a difference thnt letter would have made in tlioir con duct had they kuown of it; but she wisely held her tonguo and left a fair field to Arabella. In a little while, to her the great surprise of Mr. Noakes Obadiah actually pro. posed to little Miss Muffit, and was accepted by her. Such a splendid thing!” said Mrs. Noakes. “Such a. wonderful thing for Arabella, and it. shall come out now!” Thereupon Mrs. Noakes went call ing among the relatives, showing Qbadiah’s letter everywhere, and crenting great excitement. “And what can lie see in little Miss Muffit?” said’ one mother of many daughters. “And, though I say it—who, perhaps, should hot there’s my Marguerite—such a beau ty.” “But Magueritc was very rude to consul Obadiah,” said Mrs. Noakes. “The idea of an old man like that marrying—with relatives he' could leave everything to! “But men don’t, leave everything to relatives who iusult them,” said Mrs. Noakes. “Besides, Obadiah is hot Very old- -not old at all. It’s just splondid for Arabolla; and she was the only one who was civil to him, you know Then she went away, leaving the connections generally envious of Miss Muffit, and angry with her also, as one who had been wiser iu her gen eration than they. And Miss Muffit, so happy that she began to grow plump, was nmk ing up a pearl colored silk dress, and had sent some pearls thnt had been left to her by her grandfather to the jewelers to be reset, and sat one evening building 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 rdom but that of the fire; and, as she would have lighted the drop lump, he stopped her. I want to talk a little,” ho said, “and I liko talking in half-light. Arabella, I have a question to ask, and I want you to answer mo truly I want you to promise solemnly that you’ll tell the truth.” I will,” said little Miss Muffit faintly. “Whutevor the question is I’ll toll the truth, Obadiah.” ‘-Well, then,” said Obadiah, “did you see the letter I wrote to cousin Noakes?” The blood rushed into Miss Muffit’s face iu the darkness. “I—I—yes, I saw it.” ‘I know no one else did,” suid Obadiaii. “Button—she showed it to you? Well, I intended she should. I wrote it to be seen. I never thought cousin Noakes could keep u secret. Arabella, I’m a poor man and a rascal! I have met with noth ing but failure. Yon are rich in comparison. You’ve a homo and *1,200 u year. My letter was only u trap. I wanted every one to see it, uud hoped to settle down among my friends with the reputation of being a rich bachelor, with a fortune to Jeato behind. You only saw the let ter. You only were civil and I offer ed myself to you, meaning to impose on yon until we wore sufely married. I cared very little for you thou, Ara bella! I wanted* a home and tliut was all.” “Oh!” cried little Miss Muffit, as if something hud stung her, “Bufsince then,” said Obadiah, looking miserably in the fire, “since then I’ve found how good you wore —how nice, how sweet. I’ve come to lovo you, Arabella, and feel that I must not play a trick on you. It was nnturnl that y<$u should liko the thought of a rich husband—and then we wore great friends as boy and girl. I don’t blame yon, and I can’t cheat you. I think it will break tnv miserable old heart. But good-bye, good-bye. I’ve Como to say good-bye and, beg your pardon, my dour. Tliby’ll say you had a lucky escape. So you have, I’m going.” lie arose, but little Miss Muffit uroso, too. Obadiah,” she said, “I never thought of t)io money. Obadiah do not think that of me. And do you care for mo now?” “The onlv tliuig in the world I love,” said he. Then she held out her troubling little hand. “Stay, Obediah,” said she. And ho caught her hand mid kis sed it, and then in the dark she hoard him sob. So they were married af tor all, and Obadiah has turned out better than could have boon expected, mid only Mrs; Noakes knows of tho bridal ovo confession, mid she, you may bo sure keeps the secret. BILL ARP’S SUNDAY CHAT. Bill and the Old ’Oman Discuss the Chicken Main. Church Chimes, In Calcutta there arc 11)9 Hindoo temples, 117 Mahometan mosques, 31 Chi’istian.churohos, and 2 Jewish synagogues, A Congregational church iu Illi nois has rejected a candidate for its ’•it on the solo ground that he used tobacco. States sends 400 inis sionaries to foreign lands, Germany more tjum five hundred, and Great Britain iftie thousand. On a recent Sabbatli all the saloons and rum shops in Richmond, Va., wore closed for the first time in the history of the city; Near the site of Jacob’s well, in the city of Samaria, Palestine, there is a Baptist church with a congrega tion numbering a hundred-. None of tho Methodist churches in Chicago now use fermented wine at the communion table, and only a few churches of other denominations use it. The “Spnrgoou bazaar,” lately held in London to commcmoroto tho quar ter century of Mr. Spurgeon's pasto rate, yielded about $38,000, which will bo invested for benevolent pur poses The Catholic church in the Uuited States has now a cardinal, 11 arch bishops, 52 bishops, 5,700 priests, 5,589 churches, 78 eollogos, 577 ucad emies, nearly 8,010 parochial schools, 345 churituble institutions, and Catholic population of 6,375,000. At the recent session of the Missis sippi conference of the Northern Methodist church, tho bishop presid ing mid ex-United States senator RcvoIb (colored) were invited to fill pulpits of the Southern churoh. The conference has 80,001 members, und 8,499 probationers. Dr. Wm. Taylor is probably the best paid Congregationalist orator iu New York, receiving $18,000 or $14, 000. He works bard, preaches reg ularly, lectures, presides ut prayer meetings, is uctive on boards and committees, looks out for the Sunday school interests mid pays special at tention to pastoral calls. The lutesb manual of churches in Ndw York city gives the total of churches, chapels, and’ missions at 489, of which 390 are Protestants. The 489 churches have sittings for 375,000, the Protestant churches alone for 275,000 persons. The numbor of religions, missionary, and churituble societies uud institutions reaches 300. These societies receive about $10,000/'00. Of this amount $6,000,000 comes to national socie ties. The rest is contributed wholly by New Yorkers, Atlanta Constitution. ’ Your remarks about figlitin ehiok- ons wore fit and proper in tho main, and I would linvo writ cm myself if you lindent. Its all wrong and alto gether unprofitable to the state at large. Thom sports bad hotter bo plowin or rollin logs. Tho trouble is that folks will run things to ex tremes and work harm out of harm- loss things. ]My parents wouldn’t let us boys play ca.ds bocanso people gamboled with em—wouldn’t let us learn to play tho fiddlo beoauso tlioro was always a fellor playin “Billy in the low' ground” in tho town grocery. But. I have thought that a little chicken fun at homo in a quiot way might ho tolerated oncoor twico in u while. No gaffs, no orowd, no mon ey put up—just a sort of accidental fight without mulioo aforethought. You see a game, chicken was born to fight. Thoy go at it as soon as they break tho shell, and Freeman savs if its a double egg and two roosters in it, thoy fight before they git out. Old man Smith says lies soon cm figh t likb tho dickens at three days old. They love to fight, and its no groat harm to humor tlioir instinct wlion yonvo got nothing olso to do. When a feller is look in on, ho omit help takin sides to save his life, and if somebody tukos tho other side it gits up a little harmless oxeitemont that wusent, premeditated. An itinerant prcaohcr or a woman of brokon sporits .will get tlioir spntik upon such occa sions, mid would hot a little on their judgment if they had anything to hot. Human nature will take sides iu all games of ptiiok, whether its between nations or mon or chickens or dogs. Well, tho other night wo was a till kin about tho New Orleans concern and my wife, Mrs. Arp, said it was a sin and a shame and it oughtent to ho allowed in a Christian country. “Kentucky against Georgia,” said Froornun, “and ten to ton mul tho tho eleventh fight a draw.” Mrs. Arp stopped knitting for a moment und said, “Is that the way of it ? Well, well. If thoy had to have the fight, I wish the Georgy chickens lmd Imvo whipped tho last one.” Free man winked at me and says ho to my hoy, “Victory, (his name is Vick but ho calls him Victory for short,) imvont you got, a game rooster?” “No, ho hasn’t,” says Mrs. Arp. “hut I have, the finest one you ever looked at. Ho was a present, from Major Cooper.” “I’ve never seen him,” said Freeman, “but I’ve got the finest one in the state, I think. Hcs built up right, and got the best use of himself of any bird I oversaw. Ivo never pitted him, but if I was a bottin mati I’d put up monoy on his whippin any ehiekon m tho state, and lie’s not a Blmwlncck noither.” Mrs. Arp stoppod knitting again. “Moll, he cant be any better than mino,” said she. -‘Vick got four roosters, mid bo whipped them all st/ badly I was sorry for thorn—pool things; ho liked to have killed onoof them. But they all keep out of his way now.” “Well, I would like to soo him tackle mine,” said Frcomun. “He would surrender in less than ten sec onds.” • ‘Tliut he wouldn’t,”said Mm. Arp ina lively tone, “you bring him down mid I’J) show you.” “Well, I’ll hot you a dollar,” said Freeman, “and I’ll bring him down in the mom- ing.” “No, I wont bet monoy,” suid Mrs. Arp, “but if my chiokeu whips yours you arc to give me u pair of Hong Kong geese.” “All right,” said Freeman. Sbo knit on silently for about five minutes and then reniged, for she said it was a sin und was set- tin a bad exumple. “Thats just the way I got overtook in Atlunta,” suid Freeman. I was stmidin by the raco track when tho horses came out, aud after lookin atom all carefully, say» I to die boys, “Units the horse win tlu> race.” Well, he wont,” said one of cm. “lie will,” suid I. “I’ll bet you live dollars he dont,” said ho. “Done,” said 1, and tho money was put up before 1 bad time to think about it, mul the worst of it was I lost it.” “WlmtS the matter with you to night/*:./continued Freeman; “you look, sorter down.” “I’m used up. I’m tired as a-galloy-slave,” said I. “I uover was as tired in my life. My wife is the smartest woman in tho’world, I reckon. Ever and anon slios been talkin about that old rolliii, ono-sided front, yard, and ’about ter races mul bine grass mid flowers and vines and rookorios, and I never could find time to do unything, so yestorday morning sho knew ifc was too wet to work in. tho field, and I was prewliu around thinkin wlmt a good rest I would have, when sud denly sho put on ono of hor pleasant est countenances und. invited me to the front. Well, thore was a pick and a shovel and a wheelbarrow, ami she showed mo just a little job sho wanted done before tho stops—just a little job—and she told me how to level it up ond whore to get, the dirt, I didonfc lutVo any excuse at. all mul wont, at it with a will to got it done. By dipper time I lmd nearly, finished it, and she sot me down to an uncom mon good dinner with a bread puddiii to wind up on, mid then sugard me ovor again mul laid out onough more diggin mid rollin to eonsumo tho evonin—and this moruin sho found out all of u sudiliii that the whole thing would look worse than ovor unless. the tornlpo was extended, mid lvo been at it. all. day mul done more iliggiu mul rollin than two Irishmen, mul it looks liko wo was a buildin of a railroad in front of the house, and l ain not, done yot. When I’m up 1 can hardly set down, and when I’m down I emit got up. My fingers fool now. just liko they was gripped around the handle of something, but I’m in for the war mid am going to finish up to-morrow, I think. Freeman, do you reckon all men are imposed upon like I am ?” “tShoroly not,” says Freeman. “Well, if I was your .wife,” says Mrs. Arp, “Id mmingo somo way to make you build that garden fence.” “I begun it tins morning,” he said. Yours, Bill Arp. P. 8.—I thought, wo was Imrmo- nizin iu tlio 7th, but its all broko loose again. Wont somehotly. say something appropriate. You hold Reese and I’ll hold—my tonguo. WS ] B. A. . Thore ispi German provoib which says that Take-it-Eusy and Livo- Long are brothers. ^ A Boston doctor .says that ladies who wear cotton stockings through winter furnish the first crop of buri als in spring. . . In Iowa, a Mr. Wolff has wedded a Mow. I>»rc, despite Clio emphatic protest of tho bride’s parents. They couldn’t keep tho Wolf from thcT Doro. “Havo you any nice trcsli fanner’s eggs?” inquired a precise old lady, at a groocry store “No, ma’am,” replied tho practical clerk, “but wo Imvo some vory good hen’s eggs.” Sho took three to try. Tho girl who can put a square patch on a pair of pantaloons, may not bo so accomplished as the ono who can embroider and work green worsted dogs on bhio ground, but sho will he more useful ut the head of u large family. The following uniquo epistle was picked up m tlio street at Solmylcr- ville: “Dear Bill. Tho reason I didn’t luff when yon laft at me in tho Post-ofis yisterday wasbeeaws I hov a bile on my face, and Kau’t luff. If I lair she'll burst. But I hivyu Bill, bile or no bilo, luff or no luff. Yuro luvin Kate, till death.”