Newspaper Page Text
VOL. 8.
DUBLIN, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY U, 1880.
In an old house in Louvre lived,
once upon a time—that good old ser
viceable fairy-tale date—two people,
Jeronimo Losi, a man of not more
than thirty-five, and his grandmotlur
who was known the ebuntry round
by the name of good old Signora.
She was more than eighty years of
age, and younger than her grandson;
Bhe never omitted attending any
church service, and she still directed
the little household, scolded the few
servants and gave good advice to
Jeronimo.
As for Jeronimo himself, lie nog
. lected everything. Unfortunately,
he was rich, and, therefore, had time
to give himself up to romantic sor
row over a lucky escape. The girl
he loved had jilted him. He would
have been very miserable if she had
married him, but he did not under
stand that. Therefore he neglected
all duties, forsook all pleasures, and
in solitude of a room lie called h?s
study, wrote sad poetry, gazed at a
miniature upon ivory, and re-read a
few old letters.
The estate was principally manag
ed by his lawyer or agent, and the
grounds became a sort of jungle,
through which there was but one
path, that trodden by the feet of its
inmates—of the servants as the} 7 went
upon «tlieir household errands, of
Jeronimo as he sought some solitary
ramble, and of the old grandmother
on Her way to church.
One day as she left the holy edifice
the old Signora-saw sitting upon its
S J|- ,S u eight years old;
• Kir beauty was very striking, her
' eves being black, her hair golden,
and her skin very fair. She begged
an ‘ alms of the Signora, and the
!ady havingwfgiven it, inquired her
»mme and who sent her out to beg.
The child answered that her name
was Diana, that she lived with her
mother, who was veiy ill. and that
her brother, a cobbler, found it hard
to find bread for the family.
Her replies were made in such a
soft voice, and were so well worded
that the old Signora fplt her interest
in the girl redoubled. Slip went
with her to her home and proposed
ro her mother to take lier and edu
cate her as un upper servant. The
mother joyfully assented, and the
bignoni having given the poor woman
a sum of money, which seemed to
* the latter a small fortune, took little
Diana away with lier.
“I have brought this child home
Jeronimo,” she said to hergr indson.
“She is too beautiful to be- allowed
to beg in the street, and I believe she
is as good as she is pretty.”
Jeronimo only patted the child
upon the head. His grandmother
did as she pleased, and the child
learned to road and write, and be
came an adept in all sorts of needle
work and every household duty. She
was also obedient and respectful.
For nine years she liveu in the old
mansion, leaving it only to era to the
church with the old Signora. But
Italian eyes are* not slow to detect
beauty, and now that she was seven
teen, people began to talk of it. The
old Signora, to her surprise and sor
row, heard the sound of music with
out the windows upon moonlight,
nights, and knew it was Diana whom
they serenaded. She also surprised
an old woman, who came to the
honsc under pretence of selling some
small wares, iu the act of handing a
love letter for Diana to one of the
servants. She became alarmed, and
i feeling that it was better that so
striking a beauty in so humble a po
sition of life should be married, rec
ommended her to accept the propo
sals which were shortly made her by
a grocer of tho neighborhood.
The grocer was .young not ill-look
ing and rich for his class; but when
his offer was mentioned, Diana burst
into tears, and begged the old Signo
ra to permit her to remain single.'
The good old lady after this fore-
bore to speak of the grocer, and
though othor offers were made Di
ana,, they were all declined.*
The girl from being a servant had
taken the position of daughter of
the house. Even Jeronimo had be
come interested in her. He taught
her languages an painting, and to
gether they read the poets.
We two old people,” he some
times said to his grandmother,
“should be glad to have so bright a
thing about the house.”
“Old yourself,” cried the grand
mother who was now ninety. “You
indeed seem to be quite elderly, but
I intend to be always'young.
As for Diana, she believed from
her soul that there were never two
such perfect people as her guardians.
However, all this quiet happiness
came to an end. The good old Sig-
nora.died, and on her death bed she
represented to her grandson that so
beautiful and so young a woman
must be instantly placed under the
care of some lady, and herself wrote
with her dying hand a letter to a
friend who was a lady of title, and
who listened to her request. Diana,
with her heart still aching and her
eyes brimming with tears, was. sent
away from her old home, with all
good will for proprieties’ sake.
“Adieu, my poor little Diana,”
said Jeronimo, who was now a well
looking man of forty-five. “You
will soon forget the old people and
the old __ place in now scenes and
pleasures.”
Diana only took his hand and pres
sed it to her lips.
Then she was gone.
Jeronimo was now very lonely; he
missed his gay old grandmother, and
lie also greatly missed Diana. “She
was like a child to me,” he said. He
walked about like a ghost through
the deserted rooms. lie sighed and
could have wept, and he forgot his
old grievance—tire miuiaturo on
ivory and the worn love letters—foi
at least two weeks.
To amuse himself he began to
paint a picture. He thought thought
that it was airimaginary St. Cecelia;
but it was actually a portrait of
Diana.
Diana meanwhile had met with
adventures. The old, great lady to
whom she-Was sent died soon after
her arrival, and she was persuaded
to remain as housekeeper to the ven
erable widower, whose long white
hair and beard bespoke him a man
of many years. However, lie was
not vet insensible to beauty. Before
a year had passed Diana found that
her old master was making love to
her, and at last he offered her hi.<
heart and hand. He did it in so
peculiar a manner—with such an
evident manner of being accepted—
that Diana was terrified. Late that
night she crept out the window with
a litttle bundle in her hand, and
about dust the next day Jeronimo
was surprised by the appearance of a
little figure that flew through the
door and fell down at his feet. It
was Diana.
“Signor Jeronimo,” shecricd, “do
not tnm._ro«. nwajtf-lot-mo bo tho
merest servant in the kitchen, but
only let me stay! I am happy heje !
I am happy nowhere else ; and I will
not marry that wicked • old man
whoso wife has not been dead a
twelvemonth!”
Jeronimo, even while he carressed
and comforted Diana, could not help
laughing. He informed her that an
offer of marriage was a compliment;
that if she hud accepted it she would
have been a great and rich lady; and
that she was very foolish to fly in
terror from the house of this man of
so many years and such good report.
However, lie did not even advise her
to return, but sent a servant to the
old Signor with a letter of apology
and explanation, and orders to bring
back Diana’s clothes.
It was so sweet for Jeronimo to see
Diana again. He so longed to keep
her with him, but it could not be;
and the old priest, who had* been the
family priest for years, so interested
the Countess Ardinghi in yonng
Diana, that she took her in her pal-
ace as her companion. I for. To,, home to .mo to save you
Here Diana was kindly treated but from then,. I scareelv think you
she longed for her' old home. * Her have considered. You do not know
beauty grew to be of. pensive order; how 1 am tempted this very moment
hut, nevertheless, it was wondrous to cry out ‘You shall not'leave me
beauty, and the son of the Countess again.’ Diana it is lonely without
Ardinghi, returning from a long ah- you, and sweet to have you hero ”
sence no sooner set his eyes upon, it, “Ah.* itJ sweet' for me to be here
than he lost his heart, ||g* ^
T . . . . , - Jeronimo,”-replied Diana.
Italians have a .deep vein of re- ' Thoy.sat together,,,, the garden
English I bench. Ho took lmr small and slen-
mance in their souls.. An
countess would have gono into hys-1 der hands in ms,
torics at the thought of her son’s “Diana,” lie said, “you seek this
union with a-gjrl of such mean origin place as a' rdfygc. Now, when I
but tins lady finding that, despite all have spoken, 'joa will, perhaps fil
ler son s prayers, Diana refused to from it, as vou have flown from
listen to his suit, and believing the other places whete they sat a not for
cause to be modesty, at.once took the you. So the thought of marriage is
young man s sale. intolerable to you?” *
» 1,r y l »y soil,” sho said to the “Intolerable!” cried Diana. “Yes
trembling Diana. “1 not only per- intolerable!”
mit-I command it. My son can Signor Jeronimo turned away,
give h,s wife position and wealth, “I will find a place for you to-
and love is the most beautiful thing morrow,” he said,
earth gives us.” Diana burst into tears.
It never occurred to her that Diana “And in a little while, if you send
d o2 who ,0 7 0n; r “* ht r o “way, some-one will want to
he gnl who had made no reply to ma rry mo,” she sobbed.
the countess, save by kissing lier “And if you -stay here, Diana,
hand, once more arose m the night, 1 80mo one will also want to marry
and escaping irorn the palace, made
her way to the house to which the
old Signora had borne her from the
chnrchstbps where she begged her
bread. Kneeling down* she kissed
the moss-grown threshold.
“This is home,” slio said, “This
is home. I know no other.”
The gray light of dawn was just
stealing over the sky. Diana did
not wish to arc use tho^liousohold.
you,” said Jeronimo.
Diana sat quite still.
“However, there is no chance that
yon will do it,” continued-Jeronimo.
“If the handsome young Count Ar
dinghi inspires you with suoh terror
what would yon think of poor mid
dle-aged Jeronimo LosV?”
“Signor,” cried Diana, “you jest/
You are only tensing niie.”
No, I am in earnest,” replied
She sat dovvn ,,,,61) ^.-garden seal. I J 8ronimo . „ for t , on ^
dud watch the dav 'crow briffht—a I j • - , • 9
rosy tint spread overThe i.eavem a " „ J °'' 7
of the oid mans.™, and above the. 3, Diaiia." ^ ? ' *
distent hills the sun was rMjjfr :
And „6iv some one ivithmiuiloek- L,,,. jf 0 ,„„ im0
chain- clunked''’ti "l • * 10 hands upon his shoulders,
chains clanked. 1.1,o hinges creak- | • ., sign01 . J 0 ,, he s „ idi
beaiiT 7 .***!*«* to* Hhcr s|et childish voice," do lev"
It iV,,sjercnimo'.'° , Sy were already r'V'lf w “ 1 ,,0 . v01 ' oould
, ,, , . *. cre bear the thought of marrying any of
two or three gray bairn in his dark | fchem> » . > h y
curls, but he was still a wonderful
handsome man. The light shone on
his broad, white forehead and reveal
ed,his clear-cut and romantic feat
ures. His eyes, even iu this bright
dawn were like velvet.- Ho looked
first toward the sky, as we all do of
And
arms.
Jeronimo .took M in his
Bee Hives.
There are 2,000,000 bee hives in
, I „■ i , . . | the United States. Every bee hive
e™<*» » • 1H* over
eyes down, he suw Diana kneeling at
hib feet.
Oh, Signor Jeronimo,” cried the
girl, “I have como back once more.
Do not send mo away. Hide me in
the dear old house. They want to
marry me again, and I hate the very
thought. My good old Signora
would have protected me from it.
She would have kept me with her
and sent all these husbands away.
Oh, why did she die! Signor Jer
onimo, is there any other girl in all
the world who must be sent away
from home?—for this your goodness
has made home to me.”
Signor Jeronimo looked at the
beautiful creature and lifted her from
tho ground.
“Como, sit beside me, Diana/’ ho
said, “and tell me all about it. Who
is that would marry you now?”
“It is the Count Ardinghi,” said
Diana—“the son of the countess and
she commanded it.”
Jeronimo looked at the girl won-
deringly.
“Diana,” lie said, “no one can
force you to marry; but let us talk it
over. First, the good grocer desired
your hand; you refused him. Then
my poor grandmother told me of
other men. None of them were to
your taste. A year ago you fled
from tho reverend signor who offer
ed you his hand. Well, he was rich
and well thought of, but he was old.
I couldd comprehend that youth
should even fear a marriage with,
age, but now Count Ardinghi yonng,
handsome, wealthy, admired, woos
you for his wife, and his mother,
instead of objecting, solicits your
hand. Love, position and honor
you do not appreciate, are offered
you, and you fly from thorn in ter-
twenty pounds of honey. Tho aver
age price at which honey is sold is
twenty-fivo cents- per pound. So
that after paying- for thoir own
board, onr bees presont us with reve
nue of $8,000,000.
If your coal lire is low, throw on a
tablcspoonful of salt, and it will holp
it very much.
A little ginger put into sausage
meat improves its flavor.
In icing cake dip thd knife into
cold water.
In boiling meat for soup, use cold
wafer to extract the juices. If the
meat is wanted for itself alone,
plunge it into boiling water at once.
You can get a bottlo or barrol of
oil off any carpet or woolen stuff by
applying dry buckwheat plentifully.
Never put water to such a grease, or
liquid of any kind.
Broil steak without salt; it draws
tho juices; it is dosirublo to keep
these if possible. Cook over a hot
fire.turning frequently, searing boili
sides, place in a platter, salt and
pepper to taste.
Beef having a tendency to he tough
can he made v6ry palatable by stew
ing for hours with salt and popper,
taking out a pint of liquor when half
done, and letting the rest boil into
the meat. Brown tho meat in the
pot. After taking up, make a gravy
of the pint of liquor saved.
A small piece of charcoal in tho
pot with boiling cahbugo removes
the. smell.
Tnmblors that lmvo had milk in
them should never be put into hot
wuter.
A spoonful of slowed tomatoes in
the gravy of eitlior roasted or friot
meats is an improvement.
The skin of a boiled egg is the
most effuoious remedy that- can he
applied- to a boil. Peel it oarefully,
w<?t and apply to tho;; part affected.
It will draw off the matter, and re-
lremitrsoivhoMs in a few hours.
Fish majr bo scaled much easier by
dipping into, boiling water a min
ute.
Salt fish are quickest and best
freshened by soaking ip sour milk.
Milk which is turned or changed
may bo sweetened and rendered fit
for use agaiu by stirring in a little
soda.
Fresh meet after beginning to soar
will sweeten if placed out of doors in
the cool over night.
Blue oiument and kerosino mixed
in equal proportions and applied to
bedsteads is an unfailing remedy for
bed bugs, a cout of whitewash is dit
to for the walls of a log house.
Kerosino will soften boots and
shoes which have been hardened by
water and render them as pliable us
that cuts the wood that
fire that Old Nick built.
“Love of Money,”—This is tho
stone that grinds the axe, that cuts
new.
Glass Wicks for Lamps.
Cool ruin water and sdda will re
move machine grease from wuslmhlo
frabrics.
A wick for lamps is now mannfac
tured entirely of glass, by Messrs.
Von.bri.el & Bock, of llanau, Ger
many. It is designed chiefly for use
in petroleum and spirit lamps; and,
with an equal amount of tho wick
turned up, it gives a much brighter
light than cotton wick. In tho spir
it lamp, too, it is found to greatly
greatly increase that heat of* the
flame, ltfo sparks are given off by
this iiicombastiblo wick, nor does
the light flare in draughts to the ex
tent which it does with the burning
wick; bonce it makes the lamp safer.
Tho smoking is also reduced, afid it
is stated that ten per cent, of oil is
saved bv .its use. Of courso tho dis-
agreeabla task of trimming a lamp is
rendered unnecessary, for being of
glass the wick does not consume, but
wastes away very slightly by fusion.
The Bello Boy.
In . this month (February, 1880,)
there are five Sundays. This occurs
but three times in a century. Thus
after 1880, wcshall have to wait until
1920 before tho shortest month in
the year can again boast of five Sun
days.
- Women arc naturally suspecious.
You may have got a long hair on ymir
shonllder from holding a sixyear old
girl, but your mothcr-in-law will back
your wife in doubting the statement
every time.
A little boy once went homo to his
mother, and said, “Mother, sister
and I went out into the garden, and
wo wore calling aloud, and there was
some boy mocking us.”
“How do you mean, Johnny?”
said his mother.
“Why,” said the child, “I was
calling out ‘IIo!’ and this boy eaid
‘IIo!’ So I said to him, ‘Who arc
you?’ and he answered, ‘Who are
you?’ I suid, ‘Wlmt is your name?’
He said, ‘What is your numo?’ I said
to him, ‘Why donT you show your
self?’ He said, ‘Show yourself?’ And
I jumped over the ditch, and I wont
into tho wood, and I could not find
him/ and I camo back, and said, ‘If
you don’t como out I will punch
your head;’ and ho said ‘I will punch
your head.’”
So his mother said, “Ah,.Johnny,
if you had said, ‘I love yon, he would
have said, ‘I love you.’ If you Imd
said, ‘Your voico is sweet,’ he would
lmvo said ‘Your voice is sweet.’
Whatever you said to him, he would
have said back to you. Now Johnny
when you grow to bo a man, what
ever you will say to othersrthey will
by and by, say back to you;” and his
mother took him to that old text in
tho Scripture, “With what measure
ye mete, jt shall bo measured to you
tlio wood that, foods tho fire, that tho
Old Nick built.
“Puplio Opinion,”—This is the
sledge with its face of steel, that
butters the Btono that grinds tlio axe,
that cuts the wood that foods the
fire that tho Old Nick built.
“A temperance mooting,”—This
is one of tho blows that wo quietly
deal, to fashion the slodgo with its
fuoe of stool, that batters tho stone,
that grinds tho axe, that outs tho
wood, that feeds the fire that Old
Ni^k built.
“Temperance Pledge,”—This is
the Smith that works with a will, to
give tire blow thaj^wo quiotlydoal, to
fashion tho slodgo witli its face of
stool, that batters the stone, that
grinds tho axo, that cuts the wood,
that foods tho fircL that Old Nick
built.
“Eternal Truth,”—This is tlio
spirit so gontlo and still, that nerves
tlio Smith to work with a will, to
give force to the blows which we
quietly deal, to fashion tho slodgo
with-its fade of steol, that batters the
stono, that grinds tho axo, that cuts
the wood, that foods tho firo that
Old Nick built.—Ex,.'' *
Society of tho Doomed.
A curious institution still exists in
Paris—tho Society of tlio Damned.
Tlieso damned arc dramatic authors,
and they moot onoo a month and
dino at Brabant's. Their number
has no flxod limit, only ovor mem
ber,-to bo cl igi bio, must lmvo been
bjsBod. An eminent dramatist is
selected as chairman, and holds tho
post for three montliB. Ilis election
gonorully follows close on a splendid
failure. M. Mcilmo, M. Dtimus, Jr.,
M. Zola and M. Offonbach have all
filled the chair and presided at tho
monthly dinnor. These dinners
are given on tho luHt Friday of tho
month, and arc extraordinarily hilar-
rious,
again.
Howto a Meet Dog.
A gentleman gives tho following ad
vice in relation to dogs: “If you enter
a lot whore there is a vicious dog, bo
careful to remove your hat or cap as
tho animal approaches you, hold tho
same down by your side, between
ydurself and tho dog. When you
lmvo done this you lmvo secured per
fect immunity from an attack. The
dog will uot attack yon if this advico
is followed. Such is my faith in this
policy that I will pay all doctor bills
from dog bites and funeral oxponsos
for deaths from hydrophobia.”
-- Them ia a third silent party.to all
our bargains. The nature and soul-
of things takes on itself the guaranty
of the fulfillment of every contract
so that honest sor.vico cannot como
to loss. If you servo on ungrateful
master, serve him the moro. Put
God in your dobt. Every stroke
shall bo repaid. Tho longer the pay
is withholdon, tho better for you;
for compound interest on compound,
interest is the rate and usage of this*
exchequer.—Emerson.
T.
'Edison’s electric light has gone to-
meet MacLear’s manufactured dia
monds.—Buffalo Express.
Five U. S. Senators have boon
elected the presont winter, four den);
ocVats, and one republican. Thoy
arc Gon. Malione, of Yirg' ‘ '
Gorman, of Maryland; J.
of Mississippi; Gen. H
Gibson, of Mississippi;
and Gon. Garfield, rej
Ohio, in place of tho great
io statesman, Mr. Thurman-
