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VOL. 2.
DUBLIN, GEORGIA,
lRY 14, 1880.
NO. 20
A BOARDING-SCHOOL RO
MANCE.
, I remember well the day Alice In
graham left Mrs. Winship’s school as
one of her most brilliant graduates.
Little we thought then she would
ever come hack. She was the star
of the yearly exhibition when she
left us; carrying off prizes for solid
acquirements, as well as one for
music, in which she excelled; and
her beauty of the petite, winsome
type, w‘as enhanced by her dross of
fleecy white muslin and rose-colored
ribbons. Pretty Alice Ingraham all
the school called her, and there was
not one who did not love her,
I smothered down a little pang of
envy as I saw her enter the carriage
that was to. take her io the depot.
Her father, a handsome man of
about fifty or thereabout, seemed
very proud of his ‘only child, and
very fond W her. There was a lux
urious home awaiting her; she was
only nineteen, and life’s vista was
certainly most enchanting. I thought
then my lot was very .gray and, sad,
a teacher of German at Mrs. Win-
ship’s with no parents, and no moiv;v
b‘ut what I earned.
For two years-we heard nothing of
Alice Ingraham, hut just before the
school opened, two years after her
graduation, she came hack to seek
.employment as a teacher of music.
I knew that she was coming, for
she had written to Mrs. Winship. I
knew, too, that her father whose
previous record of life was of. the
brightest, had been found a defaulter,
a forger, and had committed suicide
in a prison cell.
Very unlike the gay, little, winte
red maiden of the exhibition was
pale, sad-eyed _ woman in doep
ton rning, who came to my room the
lay before school opened. We were
share one room, and I did my
best to make Alice feel at home.
She was too grateful, seeming to
(think her father’s disgrace made her
unworthy of any kindness, and my
heart ached to see how timidly she
shrank from any assertion of h'ef
rights in our little domain. What I
assigned to her she took meekly and
quietly, hut she made no demand.
It was terrible as the days wore on
to see how crushed she was. She
had been the brightest and sweetest
girl in our school, and her song
would ring out clear and true, when
ever she was out of the school rdom
But after her return, while she was
almost morbidly conscientoiis in the
fulfillment of every duty, she spent
all her leisure time studying or sew
ing, never joining in any of the
School festivities, and gently putting
aside any attempts at friendship.
“I cannot hurt them if I only
teach them music,” she said once
when I spoke of her scholars; “but
their parents would not like mo to
be friendly.”
And yet, humble as she was, her
conscientious exaction of their atten
tion and study won her the respect
as well as the love of every pupil. It
was not long before I began to sus
pect there was some other cause for
her doep despondency than her fath
er’s crime and death. There was
shame-und sorrow there, but I was
sure there was sorrow of another
k ; nd.
Often in her sleep she would sob
words that told me, old maid as
am, of a story*of love brokeu and
ruined, a heart holding an idol it
dared not confess. There was a lit-
, tie locket hidden under her dress,
which her hand clasped in her sleep,
and once I saw it open, with only a
curl of dark hair inclosed.
We were talking once of an old
romance lying on my table, in which
the hero deserts the heroine upon
hearing of her loss of fortune,
spoke a few short words of contempt
for him and pity for his slighted be
trothed. But Alice’s blue eyes blaz
ed as she said:
“I do not pity her, because she
must have despised him, and could
not love him, then. But suppose he
had loved her through all, and yet
she had to give him up. Miss
Mary,” she said, suddenly turning to
me, “suppose you had two duties,
conflicting, each of' which in turn
seemed the one to follow, yet you
could choose but one, wiiat would
you do?”
“But what positive duties could
so conflictP” I asked amazed at the
sudden change in her voice and face.
In a moment the old look of despair
ing weariness settled on the sweet
face, and she sighed;
“Never mind-!* It will not last
’long!”
And, indeed, I feared it would
not. Evidently health and strength
were failing in her weary round of
work, her want of exercise or pleas 4
ure, and the mental misery she was
enduring. She never rested and
seemed afraid to think. From book
to work, from teaching to practicing
she kept her attention fastened upon
something outside of herself till her
head drooped in utter exhaustion,
and she crept to bed to sleep till the
next day’s duty called her again.
And even in her sleep, troubled
dreams or memories made her rest
less, and often she would wako her
self by bitter sobbing, Yet she
steadily resisted all my attempts to
win her confidence or comfort her.
It amazed mo to see the strengh of
endurance there was in her tiny
frame and gentle spirit. Two years
ago I would have deemed it impossi
ble shtf could keep oven the most
trival sorrow or secret in her own
heart. She was the very personation
of childlike reliance and candor, yet
this power of reticence, newly dovel
oped as it was, did not yield in our
long winter of companionship.
Spring was over; June roses were
blooming, and the scholars at Mrs.
'Winship’s were preparing for the
yearly exhibition. There was
great deal of vocal music on the pro
gramme, and as Alice Ingraham was
to play all the accompaniments, she
was constantly in the music room
drilling her most promising scholars.
One of them, Jennie Blanclnuul,
was the most proficient of our school
in Alice’s class and in mine, and was
to sing a German song. She was a
very handsome girl r looking fully
-three years more than her actual
age, and prided herself perhaps
little too much upon her father’s
possession -of great wealth. The
school being one where the high
price excluded all but wealthy schol
ars, Miss Blanchard’s position there
was scarcely so elevated as she might
have desired, but yet her stock of
jewelry and fine dress was somewhat
in excess of iho other girls of her
own age.
I knew that she had more than
once made remarks that must have
wounded Alice, although she meekly
accepted all reference to her father’s
disgrace as her unavoidable inherit
ance, and I made an excuse to be at
most of the practicing of the Gorman
song before mentioned. It was very
easy to criticise the pronunciation of
the words, and by constant watchful
ness to prevent any conversation
during the music hours. It was this
care of mine that led to our all be
ing in the music-room one afternoon
just before the day appointed for the
exhibition.
Jennie’s voice was ringing out full
of sweetest music, in the beautiful
song, when I saw Mrs. Winship mo
tioning to me at the door. I went
at once, in answer to her signal, and
she whispered:
“Miss Blanchard’s uncle wishes to
s<5e her. As you and Miss Ingraham
are both here I will send him in.”
I nodded assent, and returned to
my seat, looking towards the door,
expecting to see a middle-aged gen
tleman enter. In his stead I pres
ently saw a tall, eminently handsome
man of about thirty advancing quiet
ly across the hall, evidently intent
upon entering the room without dis
turbing the singer.
But, as I looked, I heard a crash,
as if two hands had fallen heavily
upon the keys of the piano, and the
visitor, springing forward, caught
Alice as sho swayed heavily to one
side, entirely unconscious.
“Alicel my wife l”
This was what he criod.
“Your wife!” Jennio almost
screamed. “Your wife, Uncle Ray
mond! A forger’s daughter I”
“Hush!” was the reply, sternly
given from white lips. “She will
hear yon I”
But it was only too evident that
Alice had heard no’tliing. The ten
der words of the visitor, my own .ap
peals, Jennies sneers, were all alike,
unheeded by the pale, unconscious
woman who lay prostrate before us.
Wo called Mrs. Winship in, and we
sent Jennio away, greatly to her dis
gust and indignation, but Mr. Ray
mond Hill, the hew arrival, refused
to go.
“She is my wife,” he said in an
swer to Mrs. Winship’s amazed in
quiries. “We wore married private
ly a week before Mr. Ingraham’s de
falcations became known. Under
stand mo; when I say privately, I
do not mean that Alice deceived her
father. On the contrary, ho was
most urgent in desiring our mar-
riago, and advised our keeping it
quiet for a time,* The fact is, he in
tended to provide for the child’s
future, and then escape to Europe;
but the law was too quick for him.
Alice blamed herself—blamed him—
when all known, and when the fun
eral was over, fled from her homo.
She wrote me a pitiful little letter
sorrowing overmuch that I had been
so deceived, and offering, as the only
reparation in her power, to leave me
until the law would give me a divorce
for her desertion. Need I tell you
who know her that I wanted no such
reparation for ajiy unconscious wrong
she fancied she,had done me. I or
wanted to find her* to comfort her
poor sorrowful heart, to endeavor to
bury the bitter memories of the past
in loving care for her!”
While he was pouring out his story
in hurried words wo had placed Alj^e
on a louge, and wore exerting all our
skill in trying to revive her. Faint
ing fits and hysteria are by no means
unknown to tlie teachers of a girl’s
boarding school, but all our usual
remedies were at fault. At lust,
thoroughly alarmed at the long,
death-like insensibility, we sent for
Dr. Hutchins, who camo hurriedly.
He had tended Alice through some
childish ailments while at school, and
looked very grave Us he felt her
weak heart-throbs.
Wo carried her to my room, and
there, at last, she opened her eyes
to see her husband’s pale, anxious
face bent over her.
“Oh, Ray!” she whispered, 1
tried to keep my promise to you!”
I did not hear his whispered reply
but I did see the radiance in the blue
eyes, as Alice whispored again:
“Ray, you lrve me still!” and
fainted for the seQond time.
The doctor ordored Raymond Hill
away, and I alone was permitted to
stay in the room.
“Sho cannot boar excitement now,”
the doctor said, as I rapidly explain
ed the situation; “tell her if you
will that her husband is here, but
keep him aw£y from her.”
But, alas! for many days we could
tell Alice nothing. She lay in a
weak, feverish state, entirely deliri
ous, but never violent. The doctor
had grave fears for her reason; but
she rallied at last, and after a sleep
so deep we feared her spirit would
pass away in slumUSr, she awoke
conscious.
The school was closed for the
summer, and Mrs. Winship and my
self remained to nurse Alice. But
.every day her husbund came, until
the doctor gave him permission to
take his wife to the Beoside.
“Take good care of her and she
will soon be perfectly well,” wore his
parting words, as Alice lay back in
the nest of pillows on the. carriage
scat.
I think care was given, for only
last summer I spent my vacation at
Locust Glade. Mr. 11 ill's country
seat, and the little matron who pre
sided thore, and proudly showed mo
a crowing babe of six months and a
sturdy two-year-old boy, was much
more like tile Alice of the soljool ex
hibition than the palo littlo horoino
of myHruo story.
ARP’S RESOLUTIONS.
Induced by tho New Born Year.
Written for tlic Constitution.
year is dead—peace to its
ashes.; All tliingsStansidered, it was
a right good year*Jor ns, notwith
standing tho dreadful postilenco loft
its dark shadows along tho Mississip
pi’s biink. I dont boliovo* that will
trouble us much longer, for science
is at work and I am inclined to think
that there is a remedy for every dis
ease under the sun. The earth is
full of, secrets, but man was given the
mindfo unravel them, and lie will
do it sooner or later. The greater
the trouble the deeper the study to
over-odmo it. Dr. Joimer stopped
the spread of small pox and Dr.
Somebody will trump the yellow
jack, i Whenever mankind is obliged
to.haib a thing it is obliged to come.
Somobody will invent if or discover
it. Whon wool and flax gave out
cottoif camo into use. When wood
gave out coal was discovered. When
whale oil gave out kersosino oil camo
up from the bowels of tho eurth„and
now Mr. Edison is fixing up some
tbingfsftfer and cheaper still. Steam
has worked wonders, but electricity
is stronger and quicker, and there is
no telling what big things it will do
with |ho right kind of harness on.
If I was a rich man and wanted to
makojsure of my money, I would be
in -anything but
latjd., Everything disc is mighty un
certain, for’ new things come along
so fast now a days there’s is no secu
rity fpr tho old ones. Gas stock is
tumbling down to make way for
Edison’s lamps. The minors are
finding so much gold and silver that
before long a dollar won’t bo worth
but 75 cents. In fact it nmy not bo
worth anything, for I see that a man
in Londoft is making genuine dia
monds out of charcoal, and they will
soon bo as cheap us glass bead? and
bo bartered to the injuiis for mink
skins. .
I was discoursing Mrs. Arp, my
wife, about that last night. You
soe it was New Year, and I called on
her. I dident have any swallow
tail coat and white kids, but 1 call
ed. I hud procured a bunch of mis
tletoe full of pearly berries, and I
got the girls to make it into a wreath
with some heliotrope blossoms, aiid
sweet violets, and geraniums, and
strawbeiTy blossoms which they had
in the pit, and as she sat by the par
lor fire l came in and* addressed her.
“Fair lady, I come with the New
Year’s greeting. May it briijg you
joy and peace and love and rest and
happy days. Thirty long years of
devotion and arduous duty in tho in
fantry service of your country enti
tles you to be crowned tho qnoen of
love and Doauty. auow mo to uu-
circlc your brow with this wreath.”
She enjoyed that first-rate, and when
the girls took off tho chuplet to show
it to her, she remarked with atonch
of sadness, “It is very beautiful, but
your promising parent has boen
promising me a tiara of diamonds
for thirty years, and now he pays mo
off in mistlQtoe and flowers.” “Sol
omon,” said I, “in all his glory had
no such gems as these. You know
my dear, I have always dosireu to he
able to purchase a diamond ring and
breastpin and a diamond tiara for
you, not that you need any orna
ments to make you beautiful and at
tractive, for all the gems of Golcon-
da could add nothing to your natu
ral loveliness.” “Ralph,” says she
“your father has got a fit; you had
hotter,throw some water on him.”
“But then,” continued I. “The
love of ornament is natural to wo
men; Isaac knew hor weakness when
ho sent Rohcoca tlio earrings and
bracolots. Tho earrings weighing a
half a shekel apiece, which, accord
ing l,o ( lie tables made the pair worth
exactly sixty and a half conts. It
rejoices mo my doar that I shall soon
prosont you with a genuine set of
diamonds of tho first wntor.”
“Whon did you got so suddonly
ricli,” says she, “Have you drawn a
prize in a lottery?” “Not at oll'by
no moans,” said I. “But a London
chemist lias just discovered how to
make diamonds of charcoal. They
have known for 20 years how to
mako charcoal out of diamonds but
now thoy rovorso tho procoss and
piiro diamonds will soon bo manu
factured on a large scale and it is
predicted will bo sold at about 8 dol
lars a bushel. When they got down
to that price I will buy you a whole
quart and you can string em all Qver
you and cook in om and wash in em
and make up the beds in om. I’m
going to put a kohinoor in the end
of tho broom handle. What do you
think of that my dear, won’t it bo
elegant?”
“No it wont,” said she. “I don’t
want; any of your charcoal diamonds;
Eiglifcdollars a bushel is 25 cents for
tho quart you proposo to spend on
me. I wouldnt be so oxtravagant if
I was you. No I thank yon. Isaao
spoilt more chan that <?n Robocca
and didnt hurt himeolf. Buy mo a
carriage and horses and I’ll do with
out the diamonds. They wore in
tended for homely folkB and I am so
bountiful and lovely I dont neod
them. Suppose you try mo with a
poarl neoklaoe. I reokou your Lon
don man is not making pearls out of
oharooal is he?”
“Why, thats an old trick,” Baid I.
Parisian jewelers have them on hand
“A fair woman without discretion is
like a jewel in a swine’s snout.”
“My dear, do you attend to the
flowers, and I’ll keep you in cabbages
and onions and potatoes. No col-
lego talk about that, is there??’
Tho hours passed happily, and wo
got tho now year fairly introduced in
family, llow soronc and beautiful
the night, when (lie old year passed
away and (lie new lmd its birth. I
feel like there’s a good tiino coming,
and hope ( lmt you and all your read
ers may live to sco it. Dont let n
littlo fight in Maino discourage you.
If tlioy all got to. fighting up north
wo’ll have a good timeshbro. Yoiu*s,
Bill Arp.
Whitewash,
Many * complicated reoipes. for
whito-waelrtiavo been published, but.
porhps they have no real advantage
over tho following: Take n lump of
lime and slake it with boiling water;
covor it. during the procoss; strain it,
nn 5 add a littlo salt dissolved in warm
water, half a pound of Spanish
whiting, twoounoosof glue. This is
good for codings, walls, wood, brick,
or stolio.
.A Sensible Girl.
“You have asked mo pointedly if I
can marry you, and I have answered
yon pointedly that I can. I oan mar*
ry a man who makes love to a dif
ferent girl every month; I oan marry
a man whose main occupation seems
tb be to join in any gauntlet in front
of churches mid theatres, mid com
ment audibly on the people who are’
compelled to pass tlirough.it; I can
marry a man whoso only means of
support is nn aged fathor; I can mar
ry a man who boasts that any girl
can bo won with the help of a good
41 the time at. .cents a SK'ftWf 4l f feSP
and you cant tell them from genu
ine. What does it matter if tlioy
aro cheap so they are beautiful,?
What aro all tho gems of tlio ocean
to bo compared to those fragrant and
lovely flowers that cost us nothing?
Beautiful flowers that ‘weep with
woo and blush without a crime.* 1
never liked golden ornaments no
how, as Tom Hood says its ‘bright
and yellow, hard and cold,’ .you cant
toll it from brass without oloae inr
spection and it wouldn’t bo worn as
jewelry if it was cheap. I wish
everything was cheap—cheap as the
air and the water. Then we would
not bo tied down to one little spot
all the timo, but wo would travel—
wo would go to Florida and Califor
nia and London and Paris and all
over tlio Alps and soe the pyramids
and the city of Jerusalem and when
we got tire4 wo would come back
homo again and rest. Wouldnt that
be splendid?”
“Oh, yos,” said Mrs. Arp. “All
that is very romantic, but it sounds
vory much liko ‘college talk,’as old
Mr. Dobbins would, say, whenever
he hoars anybody gassing around or
talking oxtraoi'dinary he says, ‘Oh,
that dont amount to anything. Its
college talk.’ Ho Bays ho never
knew a college bred man that didnt
build air castles and imagiuo a heap
more man over ~6uhie in oigM>. vfxr
aro right here on this farm wo will
never see California or the pyramids
and I’ll never see the diamonds nor
the peals and I doix’t care to, but I
novel* liked cheap things for they
aro not much account—so wo will
fall back on tho flowors and when
you have a little monoy to spare I
want to send on for a few choice
ones und a collection of seed. Do
you understand?”
^“1 do madam,” said I, “you aro a
sensible woman. You shall have
the money if I have to sell my Sun
day boots. ‘Bring flowers, bring
flowors to tho fair young brido.’”
There was Highland Mary and
Jessie, tho floWcr of Dumblano, and
Joan of Arc and Pocahontas and
Nancy Hart and the Widow Bedott,
bnt none of thorn lmd sense and dis
cretion liko my Molly. Discretion
is a great virtue indeed. It attract
ed Solomon’s attention when ho said:
marry suoli a man bill; I w-o-n-’t!
Though the lifo’of a man falls
short of a hundred years, ho gtvos
himself us m.uCh pixin and anxiety us
if ho never wore to live a thousand.
Wo are to have sorrow and suffer
ing bub wo aro not to wear them us
garmeuts. It is not for us, is we bo
truo Christian, to have suoh a con
stant tendency toward joyful nosa,
that who» sorrow come wo shall be
able to strike them througli with the
ligljt and color of liopo.
Tho Frenchman feigns his love..
Tho Gorman dissembles his. The
Spaniard that a good opinion of him
self and beliovoB himself beloved; but
the Italian’s love is never without
joalousy. Tlio Frenchman loves a
witty though unhandsome woman;
the Spaniard prefers a fair woman bo-
foro a witty; tbs Italian loves a fear
ful bashful woman, ’and tho German
ono that ia bold.
A fugitive murderer in Kentucky
was pursued, captured und taken to
jail by his own father.
’ Griswold asks: If deaf people can
hear througli their teeth, why cannot
tho blind bo made to seo through
their oyo tooth?
“Whom oan wo trtist?”_ig.the.bknk
typo inquiry of lin bxqhango. It is
of no consequence. “Whom wo can
induce to trust us?” is tho soul
agonizor.
There are many fellows who en
deavor to beat time, but about tho
only man who accomplishes it is the
follow who handles tlm batoii in tho
band.—"Waterloo Observe?,
Two young men, out riding, were
passing a farm-house, whore a farmer
was trying to harnoss an obstjnato
mule. “Won’t ho draw?” asked ono
of tho young men. “Of course,”
said tho farmer," he’ll draw tho
attontiou of overy fool that passes
this way.” Tho young men drovo
on. ' ■ -
Got a Brooklyn girl thoroughly
mad and tho fruits of early religious
training aro not conspicuous in tho
fury with whioh sho unships hor bus-
tie and wrecks it over an
