Newspaper Page Text
VOL. 2.
DUBLIN, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 1870.
NO. 13
MIXED UP.
I’ve •wandered through the village, Tom,
Along with Anna Lee,
To listen to the mocking bird,
In the cottage by the sea.
Reid’s bay marc can’t be beat
While coming through the rye;
Let me kiss him for his mother,
Says the spider to the fly.
The colored girl and poor old Ned
Now swell our national song;
I’d offer thee this hand of mine—
But take your time, Miss Long.
I’m lonely since my mother died—
Susanna, don’t you cry;
We’re all nodding through the world,
Tlien root, hog, or die.
llark 1 I hear an angel sing,
Ah! daddy, he’s struck ile—
We’re coming, father Abraham.
Along with Annie Lyle.
The song my mother used to sing,
The wearing of the green—
The girl I left behind, me
To-day is sweet sixteen.
The nice young man and Fairy Belle
Are swinging in the lane—
The captain with his whiskers
Has marrying on the brain.
We will rally round the flag, boys,
For Johnny stole the ham—
Yankee Doodle, Hail Columbia !
And I don’t care—a cent.
AT GREAT COST.
Hartley Cline, the.master of Ma-
pletou, had a terrible temper, a fierce
migoverned spirit, which, almost
every one connected with him fear
ed. lie had - lived fifty odd years in
the world, yet people prophesied that
it would yet he subjugated at great
cost.
Not that ho was a brute or a tyr
ant. He was generous with Iris de
pendents; te nder with his children,
just with all men. It was only wiion
his indignation was aroused' tliat he
was terrible in itss uprising. Few
dart'd to face its volcanic force.
Fortunately for the peace of the
household, his two children, Leigh
and Clarice, were not like him.
Both were blonde, sun,ny and facile.
The .former was abroad wit!) a party
of artist-friends. The latter was at
home—her father's pride—the mis-
t.reH»of his house. And these two
children had no mother. She had
died nineteen vear’s before, at Leigh’s
birth.
Clarice was two years her brother's
cider. Fair, graceful and good, her
father promised himself great things
of his only daughter’s beauty. Love
and wealth ho had bestowed freely
upon her; rank- and title should he
hers when she married. But for
Clarice’s marriage he was not yet
ready. *She was far too dear and
necessary to his daily happiness.
Tberefo.e, Clarice kept her secret
like the grave, that she loved her
half-cousin Allen Larrimer—another
genial and sunny spirit.
These young people, congenial
and unspoiled, became committed
to each other because “gay youth
loves guy youth,” before they
realized all that their confession of
mutual affection involved; for Hart
ley Cline would not be likely to con
sent to Clarice’s marriage with Allen
Larrimer.
He was an American, undistin
guished, and of modeaate wealth,
und it was the desire of his heart
that Clarice add a foreign title to her
other graces. For this reason lie had
invited Count Herman to Mupleton.
Count Herman was a German, fat
and facetious. lie was not the only
titled man to whom Hartley Cline
had proffered his rare and costly
wines, but the count’s good humor
was particularly agreeable to him, so
he found it pleasant to imagine hini
some distant day, hit ally and son-
in-law.
To bo' sure, lie was twenty years
older than Clarice, and she laughed
at his rotundity, aud cared nothing
for his title, but her father consider
ed the match not only possiblo, hut
probable, since he upproved.
It was a happy summer, though
Clarice shook with terror whou she
thought oi her father discovering the
tender (Connection which she had
formed. For, fear as she did a pro
mise to marry Allen, she yet, with
great sweetness, freely confessed her
love, and enjoyed to the utmost the
stolen moments they could spend to
getlier. .
But when they could no longer
meet in lonely rustic places, by ap
pointment, from time to time, and
Clarice could not receive him with
any frequency at home, regret dim
med her happy spirit. In vain Allen
expressed his willingness to face her
father’s anger; her panic of terror at
the suggestion quite disarmed him of
his purpose. Winter set in. For a
time, only notes passed Clarice ‘and
Allen Larrimer.
Suddenly there came a change
Leigh was coming home.
“Yes, my .boy is coming home,”
said Hartley Clilie, rubbing his
hands in pride and joy. “What
shull we clo, Clarice, to please him?”
“What have you thought of, pa
pa?”
“A reception on the night of his
arrival. All his old friends hero.”
“Yes wo will I” she replied gladly.
So invitations were issued, orders
given, and preparations commenced.
Hartley Cline had planned a mask
ed party. It would be all the mer
rier to have Leigh surrounded by so
many unknown friends. lie, the
host, would wear a domino, and for
a moment at least, defy Leigh’s
bright eves to descry him. Early in
the evening all would unmask that
Leigh might recognize his congratu-
lator..
\\ hen the household was tiie busi
est, Clarice, stole a.\vav to her cham
ber, and hastily wrote a note:
Allan: We are expecting Leigh
home to-night and a masked nartv
oMus frieds arc. invited to Mapletou
to receive liini.' “inriw--gives,_nie an
opportunity to see you without caus
ing any one to suspect lvow glad 1
shall be of the meeting. I was get
ting to desnair of ever seeing von
again. Wear a troubndor’s dress,
with the inclosed ribon pinned to the
sleeve. You will find what you need
at the costumer’s Sechrist! Come
precisely at eight.
Yoimi own Clarice.
Inclosing a knot of rose-pink rib
bon in the sheet, and dispatching
the note by un outside mossenge,
Clarice returned to her task of ar
ranging flowers for the rooms with
brighter eyes and warmer cheeks.
In the afternoon a note of response
was placed in her hand: •
My Darling Clarice: I, too,
have been in despair of ever seeing
you again. For all my promise not
to acquaint your father with our
love, I have been almost on the point
of going to him, stating 'the truth,
and demanding a right to see von.
But now I need do nothing to aiaim
you. I will, according to your di
rections be at Mapleton precisely at
eight, wearing a troubador’s dress,
with the pink ribbon on the sleeve,
and a black domino; and we will
have a happy evening in spite of fat*.
Allan.
As soon as Clarice Imd snatched
the meaning from lho sheet, she hid
it hastily in her bosom, for her
father’s steeps were approaching.
She shook so with fear utfthe'sound
that her trembling obliged her to
hurriedly empty her hands of flowers
und. fly from the room.
“Get votir supper now my child,
and lie dressed early!” he called aftor
her ns he entered the apartment by
another door.
The warm hearty voice filled her
will) a pang of shame for the decep
tion she was practicing. m
“1 'would—oh, I would tell him if
I—I have a right to love so good a
man as my cousin Allen.”
She composed herself with diffi
culty, aqd entered the supper room.
At the table old aunt Dorinda de
tailed some culinary woe connected
with the evening’s refreshment, and
she soon escaped from the room al
most unnoticed.
But glancing back ns she closed
the glass door, Clarice saw hor fath
er stoop to the carpet and pick up u
paper. Pressing hor hand quickly
to her breast sho found Allen’s note
gone/
3ick with terror she leaned against
the wall, and saw her father slowly
-f
wiltT
unfolding the note, pass out one of
the long windows of the supper-room
upon the piazza. Then she wont, al
most blindly, to her own room.
As soon as the first shock of alarm
was over, Clarice hastily penned a
note to Allan forbidding him to
come, and sent it to lnm by ono of
the house servants.
“Get it to Larrimer within
half an hour, James, and I will gi\‘e
yon that for your sweetheart,” slip
ping a ruby ring from her finger. '■
The mulatto showed lus teeth and
slipped alertly away. '
But Clarice’s hands trembled so
that she could scarcely thread out.
the great braids of her fair hair.
She was glad her maid had been
pressed into other • service, that she
might hide from the girl her white
'face and shaking hands.
At last Lucille came hurrying in:
“The people are coming, Miss
Cline, and your father wants you.”
Dropping on her knees, Lucile
looped, with clasps of dead gold, her
mistress’ misty skirt; and .catching
up fan and bouquet, Clarice hasten
od to take her stand at her father’s
side, as fast, as the bevy of laughing
guests trooped up the broad steps,
under the moonlight, among the
flowers.' Not. once dared she look
at him, and lie had not addressed
her.
When .the guest had arrived, he
covered his face with a domino and
ontered the, crowd.
And Clarice? Sho yet stood in
the great arched hall, under garlands
of roses, faint with apprehension,
and anxiously watching for Jones
to return.
It was eight o'clock. If tho man
should miss seeing Allen, the latter,
^liable Mr- ;r]Tpc<n;-^iritHy^»oniCUt
i 1.:. ...i.i i
and her sinking spirt'tbid her that
it would lie at the risk of his life.
Sudd^nlyjier,Upad>roko apart/her
eyes dilated* In the very thickest of
the throng, in the centre of the
principal apartment, stood a figure
in a troubador’s dress, a pink ribbon
on the sleeve. A domino concealed
his face, but the sunny hair! waving
under the plumed cap, was Allen’s
very own.
Like one transfixed she stood.
The transparent, nails of one small
hand cut into the soft palm, yet she
seemed in some horrible trance. She
dared neither advance nor address
Allan nor retreat from view, yet she
knew some instant measure must be
taken to prevent her father and . lover
from corning into collision.
She looked down the rooms; the
former was not to bo seen. But the
next instant, a door swinging wide,
she beheld him at Allen’s side.
She turned and would have fled in
yery terror, hut the sudden sound of
her father’s voice transfixed her.
The terrible temper of Hartloy Cline
was aroused, and forgetting all else,
he covered his un welcomed guest
with maledictions.
What taunt flew back she could
not guess, hut a herculean blow sud
denly felled the troubador to tho
ground.
A score of hand seized tho mad
man, for he was little else, so terri
ble was the'supremacy of his passion,
aud forced him aside, while others
tenderly raised the prostrate man
literally weltering in his blood. His
head had struck the projecting arm
of a bronze statue as ho went down
frightfully gashing it.
A physician pressed through the
crowd, and his hand removed the
domino. A white boyish face was
revealed, one from over the seas, to
be met cruelly indeed. No other
than Leigh Cline.
‘Your son, sir! ’ gaid a voice,
sternly, in Hartley Cline’s ear.
“My son?”
He pushed them all aside, with a
rude, irresistible force, and bent low
over the senseless face, l'ke one
growing blind.
“Leigh, Leigh—my boy, Leigh!
I thought—no mutter wlmt—I
thought—God, ho is dying!”
For n tremor shook the prostrate
form; thon it lay very still.
They lifted tiie young man softly
np, and bore him to his chamber, the
physician shaking his head as he fol
lowed.
The guests dispersed; the crowd
melted away. Hartley Cline stood
alone in the rebuking stillness of the
lovely rooms, and lifting up his voice
wept.
What sob echoed his? Ills
d iughtor flitted through the hull,
speoding on some errand’ of the phy
sician’*! orders, Then all was still,
until tho latter camo quietly down
the stairs.
“I can do nothing more, sir.”
Ho, too, was gone.
Hartloy Cline boliovod .that his
only son lay dead in tho chamber
above.
That terrible night whitened his
abundant hair. All through its
hours lie walked the floor.
At length in still dawn, Clarice,
white as spirit, touched his arm.
“Father, Leigh breathes. We
think lie is a little bettor.”
Hartley Cline sank into an arm
chair.
“Oh, thank God! thank God 1” lie
cried.
Faithfully, humbly, th.ougli long
weeks, he nursed his faintly breath
ing son back to life.
At first Clarice feared to address
her father, but ho was gentle and
kind with her, with all. For he had
changed—utterly changed. That
dominant temper was broken at last.
He had nearly murdered his own son,
and only this fearful peril had dis
ciplined him.
When those interested eared to in
quire, it was easily understood how
Loigh Cline came to Muploton in
trou bailors dross auc
Petty ’ dMA^ffomto(T W receipt of
Chirioe’s second note, which James
Too Good.
hud promptly.delivered Allan, atlii
od for the evening, roturuod his dress
to the costumer—tiie only ono in
town—and strolled- restlessly down
to tho depot, where ho was the first
to welcome his cousin Leigh.
From him, Leigh learned of the
intended reception, and' thinking to
outwit his father by appearing him
self in character, all unknown to
Allan, he hastened to the rooms of
Sechrist, and unconsciously chose
tlio costume the other had just laid
aside.
The ribbon, which Allan lmd for
gotten, was yet pinned to the. sleeve.
Thus dressed lie hurried to Mapletou.
Assailed hv his father, whom ho did
not recognize, lie committed his first
unfilial act, by returning jiitiult for
insult.
After his eonvaloscenso, Hu'tley
Cline, changed to the most casual
observer, took pains to win his
daughter’s confidence?”
“When did you come to engage
yourself to your cousin, my child?”
“I have made no engagement,
father,” she said, sobbing, moreover-
come by his gen clo manner than
aught else. “Indeed, I never meant
to deceive you or do wrong; hut Al
lan gave me riding lessons and wo
ldgrned. French together, and he was
always kind and full of cheor. Ho
made me very happy;, and, so, when
I know how dear lie was to me, I let
him learn it. We were happy for a
time; since, I lmvo been miserable,
for indeed I did not want to disobey
you, father.”
‘You shall marry Allen, if you
wish, my love.”
“Oh, father, not if you do not
wish!” bivuking down between love
for both.
“I do wish it, dear!”
There could be no doubt of the
altered and h< fteued spirit; Hartley
Cline was changed, hut, as had been
once prophesied, at great oust.
An Oil City boy, who hod run
away from home, and at last return
ed, was asked if his father killed the
fatted calf for the prodigal. “Not
much!” he replied. “He didn’t kill
the fatted calf, lint he wanted to slay
the prodigal.”
A very good and pious-looking
young man applied for a position in
a well-known store last week. After
he Imd introduced himsolf and made
known' his wants, tho proprietor
informed him that ho would like to
have a clerk if lie could got one that
would suit him.
“I suppose you go to church, eh?”
lie commented,
“Yes, sir.” ^ :
“Do you drink?” continued the
merchant, eyeing him sharply.
“Never!”
“Do you use tobacco in any form?”
Here the young mail pushed the
quid into the roof of his mouth, and
replied with a smile that was child
like and bland’: “I never use the
wood and never did. I consider it
tho lowest and most shocking Imbit
that a man can be addicted to.”
“Do you frequent tho policy
shops?”
“No, sir; never 1”
“Do you go to the National
theatre,.dog lights or boxing exhibi
tions ?”
“Never was at any in inv life,”
was the emphatic reply.
“Can'yon toll me the ace of dia
monds from the king of clubs?”
“I know nothing whatever of
cards!”
“Do you ever bet?”
“No, sir, I don’t!”
“Suppose,” said the merchant, “a
man should offer to hot a thousand
dollars to ten dollars, that a three-
legged gout Could outrun a gray-
hound, would you take him?”
“No, sir!'’
“Then you won’t do for this estab
lishment ; wo don’t want you-^-we
<re fools 1” •
That youth won’t ho so good next
time.
Tho above has no reference to Gov.
Colquitt, Ham, oy tho editor of the
Lagnt 11go Reporter.
A Romantic Applicant.
A Philosophical Fleml.
“I should like to sell von a gimlet,”
said a caio-worn looking man us lie
walked into an office the other day.
“Wo have no use for one,’“replied
the cashier.
“But you should always look into
tho misty future,” went on the fiend
demurely, “next winter you will want
to make holes in your boot heels so
you can get your skates on.”
“I use club skates—no straps re
quired.”
“You may want to screw some
boards together some time. The
old-fashioned method of driving the
screws in with a hammer is perni
cious, as it deteriorates the tenacity
of the screws as it wore.”
, “Nothing to-day, sir.”
“This gimlet acts as a corkscrew.”
“I don’t want it.”
“It also may be used as a tack
hammer, a cigar holder and a tooth
brush.”
“I don’t want it.”
“It has an eraser, a pen, an ink-
stand, a tab! • for computing coin-
pound interest and a lunch box
attachment.”
“I can’t help it; I don’t want it.”
“I know you don’t; you are ono of
those rnon that don’t buy a gimlet
unless it lias a restaurant and a trip
through Europe and an Italian opera
company attached. You’re the kind
of a man who wouldn’t I’ve near an
electric light to save a gas hill.”
And the peddler walked out with
his plumage on the perpendicular.—
Sew York Star.
The sweetest, the most clinging
affection is often shaken hv tho
slightest breath of unkindness, as the
delicate rings aud tendrils of the vine
arc agitated by the faintest air that
blows in summer.
The first women employed in tho
Natiouul Treasury were appointed in
1802. Thoro are now 1,300 in the
departments of Washington, who
receive salaries varying from *900 to
*1,800 yearly.
A man with beor-colorcd hair and
a soft blue eye, haloed by cardinal
lashes, walked into the office of one
of tho Boston steamship lines about
two weeks ago, and approaching the
cashier said:
‘I have traveled pretty much all
over the world; I lmvo dined tin the
golden cafes of Constantinople; I have
sipped wine in tho gayest saloons of
Paris; I have smoked oi garottes at
the grave of Homer, and I have bath
ed my aching brow in the billows of
the bine Adriatic.’
‘Well, wlmt of it?’
‘Wlmt of it!’ ho said, respectfully.
‘1 want to go to Boston; that’s wlrat
of it.’
‘l)o you want a first-class ticket ?'
‘Well f think I do. Do you fancy,
my deni sir, that the offspring of an
Aust ’alian court, who can trace his
pedigree hack to the rebellion, would
design to travel otherwise than in a
manner bonofitting his rank and
social station ?’
The cashier blushed and apologiz
ed, when the nobleman continued:
‘iTo you set a good inblo?’
‘First-class,’ responded the cashier,
‘all tlio delicacies of tho season, as
well as wine of every brand. Every
thing is cooked in the best of stylo.’
‘Yon.delight mo beyond measaro,’
responded the nobloman with a smile,
as lie drew a toothpick from his
pocket ,o scratch his nock. ‘Jf there
is any one thing in this vulo of tears
that 1 like more than another it is an
.esthetic ineal. I suppose tho waitors
ire polite and attontivo?’
‘Yes, my lord, they are.’
‘Do von lmvoflowers on the table?’
‘We have.’
•I like that. M y poor mother, the
Conn toss of Hog liipoziiilc, was always
fond of llowers oil a dining table and
I inherit her com mendable woukhoss.
Have you ever Imd any elopements,
or suicides, or anything of u romantic
natiifo oh our boats?’
•No, sir.’
‘Do you over moo with othe steam
ers ?’
'No. sir.’
'Then j ahull ) mve t 0 flll y g 00( j
morning, I am an old cavalry charg
er, and I don’t liko none of your
easy-going, religious navigation.
When I said 1 wan t to go on a rogular
old-fashioned, slap-bang, licketty-rip
tiro—tho—fnrnitnre-into—tlio -furnace
line, that’s the kind of a Mackinaw
straw but I am.
And tlion lie drew himself up to
his utmost inch and walked out.—*
Wunhini/ton Star.
Gol. Robt. G. Ingersoll tolls a story ,
of a Dutch funner at Fairbury, 111.,
who, on being asked if ho was a
Democrat, answered:
‘Nix; I ish nod a Domogrud,’
‘Are you a Republican?’
‘Nix, 1 ish nod a Ropubligan ai
der.’
‘Then you have no politics?’
This seemed to bo an impeachment
and lie got indignant, and in a burst
of wrath ho defined iiis position,
‘IIain’t got no bolidix, oil? Yon
bet 1 got more so much bolidix oa
you don’t dare got, eh?’
‘Well, wlmt is your politics?’
•Vut ish my bolidix? Yy, I dells
you vot my bolidix ish. Fcifdy cends
a pushel for rninogorn und do’oglass
es of lager beer for nine cends. Denis
my bolidix, and detris booter bolidix
than ver tain Republican or Demo-
grad boiidiK. Eli, vat you got to say
now, py turn ?’
Jorum was telling a yarn at
McGurk’s tho other night, and was
so long about it that Owen struck in
with ‘Say, whoever told you rhut
story forgot to tell you the most in
teresting part of it,’
“Wlmt is that?’ asked Jorum.
‘The olid,’ said Owon.
Tho story terminated.
lie was u very lazy man who, in
responding to a note from a friend
who asked to bo excused, morcly
replied, ‘IXQQIL’