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THE SOUTHERN WORLD, FEBRUARY 1, 1882.
Conducted by Mrs. Fanny Farley.
THREE SHADOn’K.
I looked unit saw your eyes
In the shadow of.your hair.
As a traveler sees the stream
In the shadow of the wood;
And I said: "My faint heart sighs.
Ah me! to linger there,
To drink deep and to dream
In that sweet solitude.”
I looked and saw your heart
In the shadow of your eyes.
As a seeker sees the gold
In the shadow of the stream:
And I said; “Ah me! what art
Should win the Immortal prise,
Whose want must make life cold
And heaven a hollow dream ?”
I looked and saw your love
In the shadow of your heart,
As a diver sees the pearl
In the shadow of the sea;
And I murmured, not above
My breath, IRt all apart—
“Ah! you can love, true girl.
And Ib your love for me? ”
(I). O. Rossetti.
A HUM AMD A NMH.E.
isend the children to bed with a kiss and a smile—
Hweet childhood will tarry at last but awhile—
And soon they will pass from the portals of home,
The wilderness ways of their life-work to roam.
Yes, tack them In bed with a gentle "Good night!”
The mantle of shadows Is veiling the light—
And may be—Uwl knows—on this sweet little face
May fall deeper shadows In life’s weary race.
Yes, say It—"Ood bless my dear children, I pray!”
It may be the last you will say It for aye!
The night may be long ere you see them ugaln-
And motherless children may call you tn vain.
Drop sweet benedictions on their little heads
And fold them In prayers as they nestle In bed;
A guard of bright angels around them Invite—
Their spirits may slip from the moorings to-night.
THE DONATION 1*ARTY’
Jim and'I went to the donation, and of
course took the whole families. We sept
over two barrels of flour; Jim, for himself,
sent a nice, big ham ; his wife bought a lot
of stuff for children's dresses; Maria (that’s
my wife) bought the parson's wife a black
dress pattern, and wheedled me into giving
our tailor an order to make the parson an
overcoat.
Before telling you about the donation
party, I believe I must describe this parson
artd his family, as they were the most singu
lar people I ever met. For myself, I don't
take very much interest in religiousmattcrs,
but I do like to sec a man live up to his pro
fessions. Well, this little preacher, for he
was a very little man, was one of the most
conscientious men I ever saw. His charge
supplied him with a house to live in, asalary
■of four hundred dollars per annum, and one
donation party. If heaven is so desirable a
place to get to, those who are on the way
■evidently believe it necessary to economize
In the cost of a guide. Well, this little
preacher, while thoroughly devoted to the
cause in which he was engaged, was also ex
tremely attached to his family, and fairly
idolized his wife. She was very illy fitted
for a preacher’s wife, being originally very
proud, and quite given to dress, and to now
he deprived of the means to gratify her
desires was very trying, and she had taken
to quiet fits of repining and weeping, until
her eyes and the tip of her nose had acquired
a degree of redness not pleasant to look upon.
Her husband used to say that she was a very
pretty girl when he married her, and was con
tinually upbraiding himself for having per
suaded her to leave her pleasant home and
cast her lot with his. A little occurrence that
took place one day in my hearing will show
his devotion to her. I had taken over to
Cooperviilo a small load of flour, and driving
by the preacher’s house lie came out and
asked me to leave a burrel for him. So I
took it into the house, and while waiting for
him to find a hatchet with which to loosen
the head, sat down in the kitchen by the tire.
His wife he told me was not feeling well, and
had laid down. Unable to And tiie hatchet,
he went into her room to make inquiry os to
its whereabouts, leaving the door slightly
ajar, when I overheard the following con
versation :
“Oh, Qeorge, I feel so bad!’’
“Do you still suffer pain, dear?”
“Oh, terrible pain!’’
“I think, my dear, if you would do as I
suggested, you would soon be relieved of
your pain.”
“What, take castor oil, George."
“Yes, Carrie, I feel quite sure it would
very quickly relieve you, and I do wish you
would try jt.”
“But it's so nasty. 1 ’
“You'll only taste it a moment, dear."
"But I can't take it, George* it's too
natty.'*
“Oh, yes you can, dear. Shall I pour you
out a spoonful 7”
“Will you take some if I do, George?"
“What a question, dear. I have no need
to take it, but I should do so at once if I
were you."
“That’s because you’re a man. A man can
do anything."
“Then you won’t take it, Carrie ?”
“Not unless you will, too."
“Well, then, although I can't understand
why you want mo to take some, too, I’ll do
so."
“And first, George. You must take it
first."
“Anything to satisfy you, dear, and make
you well again." A momentary silence, and
then: “Now Carrie, it's your turn; are you
ready?"
“Did you take some, George ?”
“Yes, dear; and now you must."
“Did it taste bad, George?”
“Well, it’s not very pleasant, but the taste
don’t lost long. And new, dear, you take
yours, for I must go and find the hatchet.”
"Oh, George, I couldn’t take it at all; it’s
too nasty. ” and she didn’t.
I only mention this as showing the man’s
devotion to his wife. Talk of braving death
for a woman ; that’s easy compared to taking
castor oil for her.. But I must get on to the
donation party.
We sent Gus on ahead with the stufT, and
then we all got into Jim’s old carry-all, and
about five o’clock started over. The roads
were very rough, and we didn’t arrive at the
parsonage until about eight o’clock, and
after getting the flour and limit into the
kitchen, the dress-stufls were taken in hand,
passed from one to another of the women,
commented upon, felt of, and cost speculated
upon. Our wives (that is, Jim's and mine)
after saying good evening all around, betook
themselves to the kitchen to see what prei>-
nmtions were making for supper, the young
folks were shoved off up-stairs, and we old
married folks occupied the parlorand sitting-
• room. Old Cooper was there, and was appa
rently well pleased with the tum-oul. He
came at once up to us, and expressed himself
as being glad that we came over.
“A good gatherin’ to-night,” said he.
"So I should judge,” Jim answered, “the
preacher will make out very well, won't lie?”
“Mostly potatoes, I’m afeard," old Cooper
replied, “I can’t for the life of me see why
everybody should fetch potatoes and pies.
The pies is all right, for I kinder think they
will be eat all up to-night, but I’ll miss my
guess if there ain’t nigh on to twenty bushels
of potatoes fetciied here.”
“What are you getting for potatoes, now ?”
I asked.
“Well, their fctchin’ forty cents. Tain't
enough, but that’s all ye can get.”
“So the people have brought in possibly
eight dollars wortli of potatoes. That's
pretty generous, ain’t it,” said Jim.
"It’s a good many potatoes,” said old
Cooper, “and there’s a great deal of other
stuff.”
Leaving Jim and old Cooper together, I
went over to the preacher, and getting him
alone, gave him the order for the overcoat.
“You and your partner,” he said, “have
been very kind to me and mine, anil I don’t
know how to thank you as I should. It is
not pleasant for me to accept charity, for
though a donation pnrty is ‘nominated in
the bond,’ as it were, still it lias, and always
will have, to me, a repugnant presence. I
don’t suppose the feeling is right, but when
the people leave to-night they will take with
them nearly all they have brought, anil the
knowledge of this fact' renders the donntion
supportable. I do not say this with any
reference to the gifts you and your partner
have been so liberal with, anil do not wish
you to so understand. These I accept in the
spirit which lias prompted their bestowal,
anil thank you anil him most cordially for
them."
“But," said I, “isn’t a donation looked on
as one of your perquisites?"
“Yes," lie replied, “but that makes it no
more pleasant. I can speak a little more
plainly to you than I could to one of the
members, and you will, I believe, understand
me as not complaining. We have here to-
nightone hundred and twenty-three people.
Now, how much do you suppose the total
value of their donations will aggregate ?"
"Well, I don't know as I would ever have
thought of it in that way."
“That’s just it,” he replied; "no one
thinks of it in that way. One member brings
say a bushel of potatoes; another perhaps a
cake or two, a pie, a roll of nice butter, or
perhaps a dozen nice fresh eggs. If each one
here to-night had done that, I don’t know
where I should have put all their gifts, but
in most cases the gifts are far less than thlsi
and for each gift, there are here to-night on
an average five persons. I only tell you this
to show you that when supper is over there
will probably be no more in the house than
before, yet my people will go home feeling
that they have been very liberal with me.”
“Well, this certainly is putting it in a way
I should never have thought of. At the
same time, I can very readily understand it
to be as you say. As you know, I am not a
church member, and sometimes 1 think I
should be ashamed to be found in such com
pany, and Jim thinks so too,” I replied.
“There, sir, you do me, and my people,
and our professions great injustice. It’s”—
Just at that moment a crash overhead was
heard, and somebody upstairs cried "fire!”
Jim, and I, and the parson rushed up the
stairs (some one of the brethren told me
afterwards that old Cooper began a frantic
search for hishat) and found the young folks
had been playing a game of forfeits, and
that 'Kiah Simpkins in a struggle to secure
from ’Liza Putney a kiss, had caught one of
his small feet on the leg of a little stand
upon which, for convenience, the lamp had
been placed, overturning it, breaking the
lamp and spilling the oil, which, of course,
ignited upon the floor. It took but a few
moments to extinguish the flames, and then
old Cooper suggested that “we all on our
bended knees return thanks to the Almighty
Father for his merciful kindness in savin’
us from the devourin' element."
Jim intimated “it would be better for the
young folks to chip in and buy the parson a
new carpet.”
Old Cooper’s suggestion was carried—Jim’s
wasn't.
Shortly after, supper was announced and
the older folks were provided with scats at
the tables in the kitchen and dining-room,
while the young folks took theirs in the
parlor, sandwiches, cake, tea, and coffee
being passed around to them. I don’t know
how much they ate in the parlor, but there
was no injustice done the viands at the table
where I sat. We had a very sociable time,
and everybody seemed pleased with hisshure
In the entertainment. Old Cooper was par
ticularly witty.
“I say. Bill,” lie asked, “is yer conscience
a troublin’ of yer?”
“Not at all,” I answered. "Why do you
ask?”
“Oh, I didn’t know but ye were tryin’ to
git rid o’ some of yer ill-gotten wealth, yer
so liberal like.”
“I don’t understand what you mean ”
“Well, ye see ye've been gougin’ us poor
farmers in the mutter of toll for some time
buck, and I didn’t know but yer conscience
might hev smit ye at times about it, and
that in a flt of remorse ye had made up yer
mind to pay back by givin’ our dominie
here a good send-off to-night. Kinder make
up for what the rest on us hasn’t given, ye
know," and with that the old fellow went off
into a regular flt of horse laughter, in which
wo all joined.
An agonizing scream from the parlor
caused a rush for thatlocallty, and we found
the cause of the commotion, an attempt by
young Mr. 'Kiah Simpkins to scare the life
outof young Miss’Liza Putney, by dropping
a cold currant, picked from his piece of cake,
down her back. Miss Putney was favoring
the company with a song, standing in front
of the piano (a relic of past grandeur) and to
be more at ease had placed her cup of coffee
upon the edge thereof. She, feeling as she
supposed, a nasty bug making its way down
her back, gave one yell, and raised her arms
convulsively to the back of her neck. In
her efforts to capture the bug, she became
oblivious of the cup of coffee standing before
her, and as her hands went up they came in
contact with it, overturning it and its con
tents into the piano. It took some little
time to restore quiet, (thedamage wasnppa-
rently not thought of), but the harmony of
the party was broken, and pretty soon indi
cations of going home were visible.
Old Cooper, noticing this, requested silence
while he made a few remarks, something
after this style: “Brethren and sisters, for I
feel I may call ye so, although we don’t all
on us belong to one fold (and some on us I
fear don't belong to no fold at all), we hev
met here to-night to testify in some slight
measure, the feelin’s in which we ail hold
our beloved pasture. Although we are none
on us blessed with too much worldly goods,
we have all on us given as our means would
seem to justify, (I know I hev). We have all
on usgiven freely and willin’ly as seemed to
Us right (I know I hev) and although it may
not place our beloved pasture beyond tiie
necessity of future labor, he will, I am sure,
accept It as showin’ that the seed he has
dropped has not fallen by the wayside nor
on stunny ground. I feel certain ye will ell
bear me out when I say his labors among us
has been appreciated at their true worth,
and that, if at times, he becomes cast down,
or weary in the heat of the day, he may
know that while his reward here may seem
small, we will all devoutly pray that we may
meet him in that better land, where the
wicked cease from troublin’ and the weary
may find rest.”
I don’t know whether old Cooperexpected
a round of applause; if he did he was disap
pointed. Something occurred, however,
which was “not down in the bill,” and
which created a greater sensation than the
old man's address. Our man Gus had been
a silent and seemingly satisfied spectator of
the proceedings, but as old Cooper got
through, he rose up and said:
“My friends, I don’t go to no shurcli, und
I don't know how it vould be if I dit, but I
vas invited to come over to dis barty, und I
haf imd a very goot time. It vas very goot
fun to burn up do breacher’s garpet, und
more fun to vlll up his biano up mit goffee.
Somepoty says it was petter if you bay de
fiddler don’t it, und, if you blese, every one
here had petter bay me so much as feefty
zents to make de breacher feel goot on our
fun. Dot’s pisness.”
“What does this mean?” asked old Cooper.
“Isn’t thisyourldred man, Bill?”
“I ilissharge mineself,” said Gus, before I
had time to reply, “I hafe got another shob,
dot maype bays me better os dot. Come my
young frient,” tapping young Mr. ’Kiah
Simpkins on the arm, “it vos petterdot you
pay right away zo I can go on mit de gollec-
tion.”
“I haven’t any change,” said ’Kiah.
“Dot makes me no difference oud. I gan
shangc somedings vor you.”
’Kiah reluctantly handed Gus a dollar,
which he took, and then going up to 'Liza
Putney, said:
“Und now, my leedle voman, you vas all
de droubles dis efening und you gifs me, of
goursc, a hafe a dollar? Vot! you don’t got
no money ? Dot vas pad, so I hafe to take
de shange of my young frient here,” point
ing to ’Kiah, "he vos a fery nice young man
und vouldn’t let der lady bay for noding.
My young frient, yon gan go home.”
By tills time a good many were laughing,
and no trouble was had in setting the half
dollar from each one present, until it came
to old Cooper. Ho held back, and declared,
"Bill, ye ought to be ashamed to allow sech
goin's on by yer hired man. It’s an outrage”
“Dot’s zo," said Gus. “It vos an outrage
to gome here, und eat up eferyding vot dis
leedle breacher has got in de howus, und
den go home und zay your brayers und
cgspect to git to dot blace you gall heaven.
It’s no use dalkin’ ’bout it anyjonger, Mr.
Cooper, you must bay dot feefty zents shust
like us oder fellers. You gan make it up
ven Nick Roperts dies.”
Old Cooper paid. He didn’t care to carry
on the conversation. Gus collected sixty-
three dollars in all which he dumped into
the parson’s hat with the remark: “Dot's
burty pu^y; und now, Mr. Bill, I hires my
self out again to you.”
We drove home.—[Milling World.
The Tunned Under Dover 8traits.—From
London, June 17th, we learn that Sir Ed
ward Watkin, chairman of the South-west
ern Railroad Company, has informed a
meeting of thut company that two experi
mental shafts for the proposed channel
tunnel have been sunk on the English side
and two on the French side, and that from
one of the shafts on the English side a gal
lery eight or nine hundred yards long and
seven feet in diameter had been driven. The
progress during fhe last week has been six
ty-seven yards, which is equal to two miles
yearly. They have thus solved the question
of the rate of progress for the experimental
gallery, and ascertained that the lower stra
ta is impermeable to water. The French ex
periments have realized exactly the same re
sults. They had arrived, he said, at an un
derstanding with the French tunnel com
mittee tlia't on each side of the channel a
further heading of a mile should be driven
When these heads are finished, which cer
tainly ought to be in six months, one-tenth
of the question would have been dealt with,
and a further treaty will then probably
be proposed, under which party would ac
complish the remaining nine miles on its
side in view of meeting in the middle of the
tunnel. A seven-foot gallery, on this sys
tem, ta be completed in five years.
Many a true heart that would have come
back like a dove to the ark, after its first
transgression, has been frightened beyond
recall by the angry look and menace, the
taunt) the savage charity of an unforgiving
spirit.