The Dublin post. (Dublin, Ga.) 1878-1894, April 09, 1879, Image 1

Previous Issue Next Issue

Clip Visible Area View Page Text View PDF

Newspaper Page TextA-tkll-* - VOL. t. DUBLIN, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, APRIL 9,1879. NO 43 I# THE GARDEN PICKING PEAS. I’ve gone the rounds of Saratoga, . • And summered at Cape May, Where catching husbands is in vogue, At least when it will pay ; But never thought to change my state, ~ A bachelor at ease, Till blue eyed Nellie sealed my fate. In the garden picking peas. For folly’s flounce and furbelow .1 never cared a pin; They are but silken nets to throw To catch a husband in ; But how it was I cannot tell, She won my heart with ease ; When first I strolled with bonnie Nell, In the garden picking peas. I firmly vowed there should be one To spurn a woman’s thrall; Though beauty’s self should tempt me on I’ll tease and shun them all. But why should I the truth deny ? ’Twas on my bended knees. Sweet Nellie bound the silken tie In the garden picking peas. Ye. bachelors, take my advice, And you will quickly prove That man is never truly wise Till he is deep in love. And would you learn the surest wav To fall in love with ease t With some sweet Nellie take a stray In the garden picking.peas. CLARE. Clare Townley’s beauty burst upon 'society like a revelation when it was discovered that, wherever she might be, Henry Osmond, the lion of the day, persistently sought her side. Heretofore the question had never been agitated, but soon one perceived how faultless was her figure, another how superb her eyes, and so her belledom was a settled thing. It mat tered little to Clare. Her mirror had long since told her she was beau tiful, and she iiad received its verdict with indifference. Hera had been a strange life. She had lost her moth er in’ babyhood. Her father had little time, in his devoted attention to business, for home ties, and so his baby daughter had grown into girl hood, developed into womanhood, with no care other than that given byuiuraes and governess. To no one had she ever turned'for sympathy, or to express the thoughts welling upward; and so,' although society’s recognition of her charms was iudecd met with indifference, not so was the hand which had wavod the magic wand. There was a won derful fascination in the knowledge that this man, thoroughly read in the book of beauty, who all his life had been society’s pet, understood and appreciated her— thht 4 with matchless tact, he drew her out of Herself, and recognized her capacity to be more than she seemed. At . first, she thought only of friendship. Henry Osmond never spoke of love. He told her what a lonely life his was in the midst of the multitude, how few he met had power to interest him, and of the strange, sweet inter est he had grown to feel in her; how his heart leaped to welcome her as a sister with whom he could share his troubles as well as his joys; how she had filled the empty measure of his soul. But, with a nature such us hers, love already was demanding entrance; and when she half opened the door of her heart, that she might let in just a little, with a mighty rush he filled each and every corner, and took full, triumphant possession. It was impossible long to keep this knowledge from her own soul. Un sought she had given her heart, and though a hot flush mauteled her cheek at the memory that she had done such outrage to her maiden pride, she thought the secret still her own. But day by day thore crept an added tenderness in his mauner, a gentler softness in his tone, a wann er look in his eye, and her doubts fled. Though he hud never yet put it into words, Bhe knew ho loved her; and so she tmsted and was happy. While he, reading every page of her unsullied heart as though a book was open before him, full well knew his power to bring to, or drive from, her check its color, to see the glad light of into her eyes, or watch it fade and die, to note the warm pulse spring into life, and feel his hand the master-touch. It was one more experience in his history. ‘Rarely had one so interested him. To rouse the dormant nature this girl, to awaken qualities whose possession she herself had not dream ed of, was a study which held won derfnl fascination. But a new star arising upon society’s horizon—a widow’young and beautiful—and in the brilliancy of her rays Clare’s les ser lights paled. Not that she was more beautiful than Clare, but she knew better how to irradiate her charms. To Henry Osmond she was a fresh study, a new page to be peru sed; and so he sang, danced, and flirted, when life was not by Clare’s side. She watched it with all indif ference. Hera was not a jealous nature. Love and trust were syno' nyms. and she welcomed Mr. Osmond with the same glad smile as when her reign had been undisputed. He could not understand this. Was it possible that, after all, he was mistaken ? that she did not love him ? And so, one day, after many weeks, he determined to probe yet further to determjne the truth. “Clare,” he said, one afternoon, when he had called and found her alone, “1 want to ask you a ques tion. You have seen Mrs. Lennox. You know I have no sister—no wo man-friend save you. Tell me do yon thiuk she would make me happy as my wife ?” Keenly, intently he watched Tier face as he let each word fall from bis lips. He would make this one trial’. If she showed her love, if she expos ed to his gaze the suffering he had inflicted, he perhaps would tell her that he had been trying her, that it was she for whom he had cared, or perhaps would feign not to see it, and let h<y suffer yet a little longer. But, no ; the calm proud eyes resting upon his do not even for a moment vail themselves beneath their snowy lids ; frankly, honestly they return his gaze as the clear young voice, with just a touch perhaps of hidden scorn, makes answer: I think she would suit you ad mirably.” The play has ended differently than he thought, but as Henry Os mond leaves her presence, it is with a new feeling at his . heart of honest love, and a determination to win the woman who has shown herself an unsolved enigma. Ah could he have retraced his steps; perhaps the puzzle would not have been so difficult. In her own room upon her knees Clare fought her fight and won her victory. Her idol lay shattered in the dust. Never could bis hund'or any other, pick up and restore the broken fragments. The winter was drawing to its close. The Lenten season was close at hand. Since the aftornoon when Henry Os mond sought Clare’s advice, she had shone in the world’s firmament with renewed lustre. Her repartee was more sparkling, her wit keener, her beauty more dazzling. Ho saw it with evter increasing wonder, and deserted every standard save hers, When they were alone—a rare thing now—lie strove in vain to regain the old footing. His tenderest speeches she listened to and smiled. His every dart seem ed to glance back from a coat of mail and reflect upon himself. He must tell her all the truth; must feel this glorious woman was his own. So he waited for her one morning in her sunny receptiou room. She enter ed listless, graceful as she ever was. He rose to meet her, handsome and distinguished. I am so glad to see you Clare —so glad to find the moment mine I have anticipated for long months. Have you ever held a secret so pre cious that you dared to even breathe it to yourself, lest it should escape you? Such Clare is the secret of my love for you. And yet to you it can bo no secret, but an open page, whoso ending you have long known must lie in the words, my wife /” “Not necessarily so Mr. Osmond ; since I must decline the honor you offer me.” “Decline ! Clare, have you no pity —no love?” “Mr. Osmond scarcely needs pity. If so, I will gladly yield him mine. Of love, I have none to offer.” “Clare you play with me only to try me. Your eyes surely have spo ken love ! Stop this bitter jesting and tell me the truth.” “To tell you that I love you would be talse. To tell you that I have loved you, God’s ow:: truth. Why should I deny it ? Did yon not teach mo the bitter lesson ? Ah / conned it well, and if to you it is any comfort, drank to the dregs the suf fering it entailed. When you camo t<j me with words of love upon your lips for another, when- only a short time before your every act had been to whisper, in all but speech, that your heart was mine, if it could so readily become another’s, then cared I not for it; but if you thought only to try me, then wore you unworthy the love I was proud to offer you. Iu either case my idol lay shattered at my feet. God and my" own heart only know how utter and how desolate is its ruin.” “Clare, Claro, bo merciful! For give the past, and be my wife.” “The man I marry, Mr. Osmond, has no need to ask forgiveness at my hands; to your prayer my lips only can give answer—my heart is dumb.” A year later, and Miss Townley is anaffiuneed bride. Wi.tb manly dig nity, with honest love, Philip Morton has pleaded his suit. When he uskod her to be his wife, Clare had answered frankly: I have loved another. The fire was iso fierce that I fear it has de stroyed itself; but not even the ashes of its object remain. I admite and respect you, Mr. Morton, I can say no more.” And if I answer,” he had replied, “that I consider udmiraiion and re spect from your hands more then the most ardent avowal from another—if I am willing to rest my claims upon it, and build up the structure of-our mutual happiness upon such founda tion, will you not help mo in the effort?” “Gladly, willingly,” she had an swered. Nor has she yet cause to regret her itssent. Yet, as she sits thinking, knowing that he is below uwaiting her. once more an inward warfare rages. To marry this man, to share his proud name, and yet to yield him a heart lifeless and worn, seems iu deed a poor return. “I have come to ask you to give me back my promise,” she says later, entering the room and disregarding the warmly extended hand of wel come. “When you asked me to bo your wife, it was as though a land of safety had been opened to the storm- tossed traveler. I did not toll you all the truth, Mr. Morton, on that day—did not toll you that though love had burned out, memory remain ed—the memoiy of the past—of the ‘might have been*—forever effacing and destroying the present;” and, with a bitter sob, she sank upon a chair. A look of keenest pain was in Philip Morton’s eyes, but his voice was very gentle as, sitting beside her, he drew her toward him. *‘I may claim a brother-love, then, Claro? Poor child! Let no thought of mo add to your suffering. If the day ever comes, darling, when you can lay your hand in mine and trust yourself to me, I stand ready to re ceive it as a sacred gift. Until then, Clare, good-bye.” Stop! Oh, Philip, I did not know pay own heart. .Love has conquered it. I thought it dead, but the sight of yotir nobility and the baseness of the man I once loved, standing side by side, has done its work. If ho wore here to-day, I could toll him, witlr a royal pride, ‘Here stands my king!’ ” A charming bride Miss Townloy made. Tall, regally beautiful, her face seemed ,transfigured with the light of love as she repeated the sol emn words of the ceremony after the white-robed clergyman; and as she turns from the sacred pluco, leaning upon her husband’s arm, she catches sight of ono face, worn and white, among tho watchers, the faco of one who lias made a suicide of happiness, and instinotively’sho clings stilloloser to tho arm on which she leans, while Philip Morton never understands what prompts tho words, “Saved. Philip, saved !’* as he rapturously takes tho first kiss from tho upturned lips of his wife. J knny When. “It is positively stated that the >vorld will come to an end in 1880*” —Ex. All right. That lots us out. We did think of paying a few of our bills, and wo wore bothered about an ovorcoat for next year, and had a no tion to got our new baby vaccinated, but now wo’ll just hump around and have a good time as long as it lasts and pay nobody. We aro glad we came across that newspaper squib, or we ipigl>t have gone to a good deal of troublo for nothing.—Pittsburg Leader. Gas stocks in Now York have re turned about to tho figures they bore before the Edison panic camo along. The Manhattan, the leuding company which, for a long time, had ranged from one hundred and ninety-five to two hundred und ton, sold lust week for one hundred and ninety-two after having boon down to one hun dred and forty-five. Thore has been a sharp recovery, too, in London. Spurgeon says: “Wo ought to havo room for enthusiasts, even if they violated every rule of grammar. A grand, blundering, hammering, thundering, whole-hearted'Boanerges is worth a dozen prim, roverend gen tlemen, meek as milk and water and soft as boiled parsnips.” Tho English government is send ing out a host of inexperienced sur geons to South Africa just as we sent them out during tho rebellion. Many an honest fellow who walks on crutch es to-day had a leg hacked off by some learner when it might have been saved.—New York Herald. A SOUTHERN OUTRAGE That Bleeds the Northern Heart. Atlanta Constitution. Husband-hunting seems to have been the cause which recently lod a robust and rather good looking Now York lady to leave her comfortable home in that city and corqe to the state of Georgia. Yesterday she re turned home without » husband and in company with her mother and brother, who had accompanied her on a wild goose chase in search of a man. Ayopbrtorof tho Constitution saw tho trio at the union passenger depot ns they wore awaiting tho do parture of a northorn bound train. Tho countenauco of tho young female soomed to say that she was deeply distressed, probably occasion ed by a feeling of severe disappoint ment, while hor mother appeared to bo taking things easily. Hor brothor was also troubled. Ho stated to u by-standor that he was a d—d fool for having como south with his mother and sister und sponding nearly two hundred dollars in at tempting to got a husband for his sister. This kind of • conversation wus not rejected but ruthor encour aged by those who stood near and he gradually turned tho whole story loose to his audience. It seems that soveral months since his sister inserted tho following notice in tho Now York Heruld: Wanted, a husband; would like to murty gentleman of comfortable circumstances aiding iu the south. 8. E. It. Herald San Antonio (Texas,) Express General Ilobt. Toombs, of Georgia, lms accepted the invitation to deliver the address uf the opening of the state fair; at Austin, next October. He will prove quite an attraction to the people of Texas. Another letter has gone around the world, this time in eighty-seven duys, the shortest time the distance was ever made. This missive made every connection with a precision equal to a punctual human traveler, never stopping to lunch or “see man,” and-consequently never got left. “You’ro a smart fellow,” yelled a lawyer to a witness tho other day in a Brooklyn court. “I’d return the compliment if I wasent under oath,” said tho witness. A Watorberry factory turns out 12,000 pins a minute. And yot tho men who live right around the fac tory when they want a pin have to search an hour. A South American has discovered a plant which gives milk, but we don’t see where the fun comes in, os it can’t turn around and kick tho pail over. Tho beauty of tho face is anenviar ble thing, but the beauty of tho heart lasts longer. An ill-tempered word and a stone aro alike in that, when onco thrown, they cannot bo recalled. A man can no more escape from his ordiuary grooves of thought than he can from his habitual grooves of actiou. residing iu tbe south, up town office. Shortly uftor the appearance of this notice in tho public press, Miss Rodmond, which we learned was the young lady’s name, received a letter from a gentleman postmarked at Hawkinsville, Gn.> which stales that he had read lifer notice in the Herald and desired to open up a correspon deuce with tho author of the ndver tisemeut. Tho lady answered the letter immediately and an animated correspondence was ut once com menced. Tho lady wrote numerous letters, giving her ago and size, and stated that she was a brunette; also stated that she was quite an accomplished pianist and vooalist; in short she thought that she could make hor correspondent a good wife, and would try und make him happy, if they should become united in marriage. Her correspondent answered all of the letters, and wrote that he was a farmor of middle ago, and that he was situated in comfortable circum stances; Ho stated that ho had quite a largo farm located about fourteen miles from Hawkinsville and that he had a plenty of everything for both. Some of tho letters which passed bo tyreen them might bo called “soft,” if such an expression is admissible under the oircuinstances. This state of things continued until a few weeks sinco, at which time Miss Redmond wrote a letter to her correspondent at Hawkinsville to tho effect that she thought tho time hud como for action, and that if ho would marry hor she would come to him at once and have the ceremony performed. To this she received an answer to como to him at onco and that he would bo ready to receive her with open arms and make hor his wife. This letter sho received with true delight, and in all probability kissed tho signature of tho missive a score of times. Delay was not to bo thought of under any circumstances. She at once read to her mother and brothor the letter that had made her feel so happy. A trip south was planned in most hasty manner. The other two mombors of tho family said that they would go with hor and see the affair dono up in the ..best of style. No now clothes were needed. All that hud to bo dono was to bundle up such clothing us was now at hand, throw a few pairs of slippers into tho trunks of those who were to consti tute tho party. Tickets wore pur chased without delay, and soon the trio wore on their way to Georgia as far as the Kcnncsuw route could take them. Arriving in Atlanta they bbardod an outward bound train for Hawkinsville, where they oxpected to meet the man that was to make one of tho party happy for life. Hawkinsville was reached without accident, and the jiurty of three per sons disembarked. Upon inquiry it was ascertained that the farmer for whom they were searching lived about fourteen miles from Hawkins ville, and that the stage would not go until the- following day. This nows of course caused no small dis- appointnumt to tilt party, and espe cially to tho young lady. Although the disappointment was inexpressible, it only brought about a greater determination u]»on the part of .the lady to. get to the nian whom she hud learned to 10yo on paper. Tho services of a stage were procured at an udvanced price and tho journey was continued. After riding for many hours over a rough road and through a perfectly barren of waste country, the stage was pulled up in frout of a log cabin. It was midnight when tho party reached tho house. After knooking on the door for somo time, an old gray-headed man looked out and inquired, “who was there ?” Tho response was “friends,” and a moment after tho situation was fully explained. The old man dressed himself and asked tile party in. The surprise of the young lady when sho saw that hor lover was an old wreck of humanity rather than a young mid handsome southerner can only be imagined. Sho turned away from him with a shudder and a feeling of grout disap pointment. Tho mother became wruthy, and the brothor let fly a few not 1 very complimentary remarks with reference to the “old cuss,” us ho termed the farmor. An invitation to the party to remain until morning .was indignantly rofusod, and tho young lady, much depressed in spir its, accompanied by her wrathy und indignunt motlior and brother, en tered tho stage and wore,soon on their way to Hawkinsville. . Meeting an old negro upon their arrival thore, they asked him how tho mun stood from a financial stund- |H>int. The old negro looked up and remarked: “Why, missus, dttt man haint got a cent, and his farm is so po’ dut a ground mole would starve to def on it.” Tho fiist train that loft Hswkins- villo for Atlantu brought tlio disup- pointed trio away. from the scene that had promised to be such a bright ouo to at least ono membor of the party, and ore now the would-bo emigrants are on their return to New York city. Tho young lady should try it again. Probably she would have bettor luck. If at first you don’t succeed, etc. Value tho friendship of him who stands by you iu tho storm ; swarms of insects will surround you in tho sunshine. • nr When fortune caresses a man too niuoh she is apt to make a fool of him. Tho first and worst of all frauds is to oheut oneself. AH sin is easy af ter that. He who is perishing does not look to seo if^ho proffered loaf be fresh or stale. A Ohincse proverb says, “Great souls have strong wills; others only feeble wishes.” The rarest and surely the happiest murriuges, are between those wha have grown in love. Some men cling to their opinions more tenaciously than they ever wi.R to self-mipoot. | W. J. McLeod, of Robeson, N, has killed six hundred deer. Ho bunts iu Robeson, Cumberland, Moore aud Rwhmoud counties.

Georgia Historic Newspapers

The Dublin post. (Dublin, Ga.) 1878-1894, April 09, 1879, Image 1