if\f /. -J.?
THE TRIBUNE.
VOL. I.?NO. 10. BEAUFORT, S. ., JANUARY 27, 1875. $2.00 PER ANNUM.
A Kiss.
Only tho rosea will how ;
Dear,
Only the rosea will nee !
Tliia once?juat tliia!
Ah, the rosea, I win.
They envy mo!
llero ia a half blown spray;
Say,
Thin shall love'a anadem bo !
A roao-atrniig wreath
For thy brow, and beneath
A roao for me ! j
i
NUMBER FORTY.
Many a craft had visited tho cave, j
gliding smoothly into port, or drifting. ,
dismantled wrecks, but never the like of
this one. On sho came boldly, all her j
sails set, and gleaming wliito in the dull :
atmosphere. What was the vessel < t
Where did she come from ? The helmsman
must bo mad. Ah, at last ! What I
eiBn couia no expected ^ Bounding for- j
ward on the crest of the advancing wave, i
she paused, shivered, and hung poised
in air, as it were, pierced by the fang of ;
a sunken reef. Then a wondering silence
fell on the spectators. The marvel ,
was this?not a soul was visible on her !
deck.
The wreckers put off to the vessel.
No trace of disorder .and violence, except
two boats gone. The young clergy- |
man who accompanied the wreckers went i
down the companion-way into the cabin j
with bated breath. No confusion even
here; every article in its place, the lamp j
swinging monotonously from the beam. |
A low sound curdled the blood in his '
veins, already chilled by dread and an- I
ticipation of the unknown. It was the j 1
veriest breath, half gob, half moan; still !
thero was some living creaturo in the in- |
ner cabin. He stepped to the door.
A girl, bleached to the oolor of her J
shroud by illness, lay in a narrow berth,
and within reach of her hand were placed
biscuit and a bottle of water.
The clergyman brought his prize on i
(lock, as the wreckers swarmed over the
Hide. ^ J
The girl opened wide eyes, dreamy
and vacant.
" Where are your companions of the i
ship ?"
"I don't kuow," vaguely.
" Was there a storm ?"
"The sea always beats against the t
side."
" Can you tell us your name?"
"Call mo a Caprioe of Fortune,"
abruptly.
Caprice was taken to the liouso of an
old nurse, and soon recovered. Alfred !
Dearborn, the young clergyman, visited
her daily, and rejoiced at her recovery.
Oue day Caprice was wandering about
the littlo island when she saw a plaut, the
stem a transparent- green color, the |
broadjleaves stretching upward as if to 1
support a lily, whieh, having spurned its i
ulutiifli now *
, .. pmiidi mo uira place, pure |
as alabuster, and delicately curved like a |
shell.
Caprice bent the lofty plant to inhale j
its fragrance, and with one rending crack 1
the giant blossom lay in her hands. The
1>erfumo was an intoxicating delight; as
ler feet strayed into the path once more
she buried her face in the snowy petals, j
A surly mastiff descried her, and ap- j
proaelied with deep-mouthed growls. !
On the right hand was a house, on the !
left the wall by which she liad entered. |
The house was nearest refuge, and tliitli- j
er alio fled, with the enemy in close pur- |
suit. She sprang through an open win- j
dow, with a startled scream, just as the j
mastiff's teeth closed on her arm.
" Down, Bruno ! back, sir !" commanded
a shrill voice.
Caprice, still clutching her flower
trophy, stood before a very old man in a I
wheeled chair. The old man remaiuod
motionless for several minutes, his gaze .
riveted on the lily, then a light came into '
the withered, gray face, a touch of the
whoel whirled the chair to her side, and
ho exclaimed, in delighted accents :
" lias it bloomed once more ? What! \
and you brought it to me because I can I
no longer visit the cave i Good child !
I never forget. Where is my nephaw 1
Alfred, that he did not know! Oh, the
fools, the fools ! It might have with- 1
1 1. -1 ?i - - -
oreu wane tnep passed by. My priceless !
beauty !"
When Alfred Dearborn came to pay a :
morning visit $o his aged uncle, Mr.
Silas Dearborn, of Mount Hill, he found
that gentleman at table, with Caprice
seated opposite. The old man played
.tho host with his grandest manner.
*******
It was Christmas in the tropics. Lord
Arthur Drammond, commander of the
Psyche, sat in the admiral's pew. When
he raised his head after prayer the opposite
pew had an occupant in aspect so
unusual that he was guilty of a fixed
stare of surprise. A girl Hat there, glorified
by a shaft of amber light from the
altar window, in tho perfection of a
beauty as rare as it was luxuriant.
" Who is that girl ?." he asked, tho
services ended.
" Ah eccentric being called Mademoiselle
Caprice. An old man died ami
0
left her his fortune a year a#?o, and since
she lias reveled in childish extravagance.
The nephew, our clergyman, Mr.
Dearborn, should have inherited, but
did not.
Lord Drummond wnlked from the
church. A dozen paces in advance was
Caprice. Snatches of song escaped her
lips. A gang of convicts wore coming
from the shore. Tliey wore straw hats,
and coarse blouses marked with the
number and name of their hulks. As
they filed past, a slight, pale man looked
at Caprice. Not a sound escaped his
lips, not a gesture betrayed his surprise;
a trifle paler, Number 40 moved on.
Caprice stood as if petrified. Lord Arthur
overtook her. Color had fled, her
eyes were wildly dilated, her hands rigidly
clinched over her heart.
"Are you ill f" touching her arm
gently.
" ]So," gazing straight before her.
"Perhaps tlio convicts frightened
you. Can I be of service i"
"No. It is nothing."
Ho went on. Dignity demanded no
further interference ; curiosity made
him look back. She was following rapidly
; she lind disappeared. Where <
A flight of steps was cut in the higli
wall, leading to a path above, and in this
path the girl lay on her face, like one
dead. He bore her swiftly toward the
house?an old mansion.
How pretty and helpless she was!
Lord Arthur chafed the cold hands. A
faint quiver of the eyelids and sensitive
lips, and Caprice clung to him blindly,
murmuring, " I am afraid. Hide mo !"
The old nurse was at hand, and to her
Lord Arthur surrendered his charge.
A letter awaited Lord Arthur, and the
admiral's hidy was disposed to bo arch
about it at luncheon. It was from the
Hon. Maud Fitzroy, of Glenliam Park,
stating that her papa had no objection
to their wedding occurring in March.
Number 40 left his Christmas dinner
untasted. As he had just arrived, perhaps
the routiuo of labor gulled him.
The next day after this Alfred Dearborn
and Caprice were sailing in the
harbor. A boat shot out from the shore,
and in it sat Lord Arthur Drummond.
rn.? r* : ? i i -
a.uv vnv luuv. Vii|niuu Ijtmca SVt'UUllJ
at the horizon; Lord Arthur smiled aud
bit his lip beneath his beard. Yesterday
a soft cheek had been pressed against
his face, and two suppliant arms clung to
him, with the cry, " Hide me ! I am
afraid." To-day the sunset -wrought
miracles. She did not know him. Not
that ho cared. Ho wont to his cabin
and wrote a letter to his fiancee in England.
As for Caprice, she flew up stairs when
she reached home, and watched the gig
pull alongside of the Psyche. Then sho
laid her head on the wiudow-ledgo and
burst into despairing teal's.
The governor's Christmas ball raised
excitement to fever heat in this miniature
world, and when it was over Caprice
stood at her window. The clock struck
two. With Caprice all was dark and
still; over yonder there was confusion,
noise, aud blind haste. A man stole
along tlio wall and grasped her wrist.
" Quick ! Help mo ! I havo escaped
by firing the building."
"I knew you would come." She
shrank and shivered.
" Trust me for that! How on oartli
did you get here ?"
" I thought it was out of the world."
" Where you could hide from me?eh ?
A pleasant suggestion ! Do me justice
once, Margaret."
"Come in," she said, despondingly.
duo orouglit mm food and wino. A
heap of Silas Dearborn's garments was
produced for liim to select a disguise.
No. 40 was touched. He watched her
critically, admiringly.
"Why were you transported?" sho
faltered.
" Got hard up, and forged the old
man's name." , ,
"You can't escape," she added presently.
Her face was deadly pale, her
hands icy cold, her composure forced.
" I will try. Am 1 to work from sunrise
to sunset in a gang ? Life is a bagatelle.
If I fail? You have u boat.
Time presses. Get bread and water, a
chronometer and telescope, if you can."
She placed her hands on his shoulders
nuuiiemy. " now count you do it
Number 40 wns u handsome man when
the prison look (lied out of his face.
"Because I loved you, I suppose."
Then he took her in his arms anil kissed
her. She did not repulse him The
Swan rode at anchor lielow. In tho
darkness he unfurled the suil and stood
out to sea. Capriee crouched iu the
window, hiding her face. When she
raised her head it was day, and no suil
was visible on tho broad ocean.
A littlo later Alfred Dearborn came
over the hill.
" The convict who stole your boat has
been captured and brought back l?y a
schooner," lie said.
* *****
Tho moon sliono down on land and
sea. Tho parish church was white in
the silvery radiance, like purest marble,
and a woman sat on the step gazing up
at the tower. " There's safety under
i'ie crosF, site murmurcu.
Alfred Dearborn, coming from tlio
I vestry, paused in surprise. " Caprice, j
' what mad freak is this ? Pray regard j
coil vent i< >1 liilities."
" J wish to see you," she said, delib- j
erately. " I am in trouble. You should
be n father confessor. Listen. I was
left an orphan in the care of my aunt.
She was not rick, and she had a clever,
unscrupulous son who spent her money.
We went from London to Scotland for
her health. I was seventeen years old.
A physician wished to marry me, and
my aunt approved. My cousin began to
make presents. One day we were forced j
to seek shelter in a farm-house by the
rnin, wlmre a curious sort of man dwelt. |
My cousin laughed at me about marry- |
ing the doctor. ' Let us rehearse the .
scene,' he said, gayly. Then ho took I
my hand with some mock formula, and I I
retorted merrily, and the curious man j
witnessed our sport. Afterward he in- j
formed me that we were married accord- |
ing to the Scotch law. I begged liim 1
not to tell my nnnt until ho returned
from a journey. I hated him for the advantage
taken of my ignorance. I ran
away. Well, a lady took mo as nurse on
tho voyage to America. I fell ill, and
they deserted me in tho vessel. Number
40 is my husband."
The clergyman stood aghast. " You ?"
he finally ejaculated.
" I am what circumstances have made
me," sho retorted, quicklv. "I thought
I could live hero. I shall not keep your
uncle's fortuue."
"God help yon!" ho said, gently.
" Yon will never stand alone while I am
here." Thus collapsed the young clergyman's
cloud of happiness.
The schooner had brought more than
the escaped convict?a poison seed to
take root, and spread a rank plant of
disease. Faces blanched with fear in
the darkened houses; the streets of the
town Avere deserted; pestilence brooded
in the still sunshine; soldiers were perishing
like sheep ; the convicts were
smitten down. Numbers 39, 40 and 41
of a certain hulk had the fever. A young
sailor lay in one of the hospitals. Caprice
camo to his Hide calmly, arrayed in
white and placed flowers on liis pallet.
Lord Arthur Drummond was there to
inspire courage, and Alfred Dearborn
with unceasing ministrations, lloth men
grew pale at sight of the slight girlish
form in that dreadful place.
" I am not afraid. Let me do something."
"Will you go home for my sake ?"
urged Lord Arthur.
" You may take it," she shuddered.
I - - - * - ?
i U< ??: >) v/1 u i 1U IU vtrr^ MffLTl 10 llllll
just then.
"Would you caro i Do 3*011 love rue,
Caprice
She sighed aud re-entered lier pony
carriage.
" I am ordered North at ouce, this
evening. In lialf an hour I will he at
Mount Hill. Marry me, and let me take
you also. Say yes, 1113* love. You have
become more than all the world besides
to me."
How eloquent and tender the cold
eyes had become ! Caprice quailed before
them. Here was a proud, reserved |
man pleading liis cause passionately in
the broad street before a hospital door.
Alfred Dearborn, weary and depressed,
approached the other side of the vehicle.
For her ear alone these words were uttered,
compassionately, " Numbers 39 i
and 41 are convalescing; 40 was buried '
hist night. He was not prepared to die."
Tli at was all. The girl gathered up J
the reins of her phieton with a dozed expression
and drove away.
Lord Arthur hastened to Mount Hill,
his heart heating high, his brain iu a
tumult of novel emotion. Had ho ever
I loved the honorable Maud with more j
iimn a cann niiection i This was no time |
for prudence or hesitation. Death in
awful guise was hovering over the islands,
watching ever for fresh prey. He rejoiced
in being ordered away, that he
might carry off his darling frpm danger.
Perhaps ho was glad that 110 time was i
allowed for possible twinges of remorse, j
He must claim Caprice. He could not !
leave her beliiud. And yet I10 had always
prided himself 011 being an honorable
gentleman.
Caprice was not at home. Woffy was
stupid aud impenetrable. Captain
| Dnimmoud would wait ; which he did,
, with his gaze lixed impatiently 011 the j
dial of the old clock. Then lie rushed >
out to find her. An hour, two hours,
j .'slipped by. Still tho silent house and
the ticking clock. Good heavens ! where
was she < A flag fluttered from the
Psyelie, a slender thread of smoke issued
from tho funnel. He strove to write,
and cast aside the pen. lie must see
her. A sickening doubt begnu to oppress
liinj. Woffy blinked with her cunning
eyes, and held her peace. In grief
j and wrath he prepared to depart at
I length.
" Tell your mistress that I am deeply 1
I it ,.i.? ?,;u ? ? I
u. ai nno wm WiHO LUtJ, J.
leave a card."
A last look at tho old house, aiul ho
was gone.
Caprice, striving to catch tho tone* of
his voice in tho chamber above, whispered,
i
' He would lmve been ashamed of m?
in a month. I was not good enough for
him, but I loved him."
"His lordship's gone," said Wotfy,
thrusting her head in the door. " 1
obeyed orders?only you should liavr
seen his face. A noble gentleman, mind
you!"
" Gone, and I am never to see him
again !" exclaimed the girl, springing to
her feet.
There was a flutter of flying garments
down the avenue, and Cnpriee stood before
Lord Arthur.
" Good-bye," she said, extendiug her
hand, and endeavoring to steady her
tremulous voiee.
"When death parts us, not before,"
he answered, clasping her in his arms
with a passionato fervor, and stooping to
kiss the quivering lips.
The Ken Year.
Again the New Year is upon us, and
wo pause to review the twelvemonth
just passed. One hour, one day, one
week, one month at a time it has gone,
just as the year now in will go. The
grand sum total of the past year is made
up of ten thousand little items, and thus
will the sum total of our lives be mode
up. We cannot go back to mend wliat
is broken iu the past, to correct errors
committed, to improve opportiuiities
wasted, to repair injuries done. But
seeing wherein we have failed, wo may
in the future avoid what is wrong in the
p:vst. Only so far as repentance and regret
load us to mend our lives and stimulate
us to more vigorous efforts in welldoing
in the future, are they at all profitable.
We are to " forget the things
that are behind and press forward to
those that are before."
Tliis is a good time to mark out and
enter upon general courses of action in
life that upon calm reflection seem wise
and just; enter upon them with a nwiet
deliberation to live just one day at a
time and let each day, so to speak, take
care of itself. The resolutions formed
on New Year's, says the New York Tribuiic,
will not sustain us during the
entire year in right action any more than
the New Year's dinner we eat will last
us a twelvemonth. The moral nature requires
daily moral aliment to keep it in
healthful condition just as does the
physical. Herein is the error many
young people make in trying to lead a
new life. They fancy that if they start
right the moral machine will run itself
without much attention; so when at the
end of the year they look back ami see
how lamentably their good resolutions
have failed them, how littlo of what they
intended has been accomplished, discouraaement
nuralvzes them. Wo nil
need to remember that tlio petition,
" Give us this day our daily bread," applies
with as much force to our mor.tl
and spiritual natures as to our physical.
So in the pluus we arrange for our conduet
wo must provide means whereby
this daily moral food shall bo supplied.
Just as we allow ourselves time to eat
and to sleep in order that our physical
strength may not waste, so we must
give ourselves time and means to tone
up and recuperate our intellectual ami
moral natures if we wish really to lead
constantly a higher life.
In a new temperance story nro four
mottoes that should be engraven on the
hearts of all those who in familiar phrase
are "turning over a now leaf." They
ure these : "Look up and not down
" Look out and not in ;" " Look forward
and not back ;" " Lend a hand."
These mottoes rest upon the fundamental
principle that growth is from within
out ; that we shall judge the tree by its
fruits, and not by digging it up hi see
how far the roots penetrate the soil, or
by splitting it open to tind if it is sound
at the heart.
In the retrospect of the past year every
noble heart must admit that his highest
joys and satisfactions have come from a
sense of duty faithfully done, of burdens
patiently borne, of temptations to evil
-e
okomiwvij iraian-11, in opporaUllUeS Iol
doing good gladly embraced. Is there
one of ua who would uot, if wo could,
recall the ungenerous act of which we
have been guilty, the unkind word, the
aellish feeling ( The only thing which
we can do to atone for the post is to
avoid all theso errors in tho future, and
luake tho yejir to coino ouo of sunshine
ami joy to all around us.
Not a few look wearily forward to
months of anxiety, of want, of toil and
pain that must come to them as the year
wears away. It is enough to live one
day at a time, and not make its burden
intolerable by adding to it the bnrd* 11 of
to-morrow or of yesterday. "As thy
day so shall thy strength be." I h>w
often do we p.n i even with cheerfulness
the niont dreaded ordeal, and tiuil oui
feara mid apprehensions intinibly nu re
painful than tlm reality. In tin aerse
we are to take no anxious thought for
the morrow ; autftcieiit unto tlie day is
th? evil thereof.
So trusting, hopeful, patient, let in
enter upon the new year, looking up ami
not down, out and not in, forward and
not buck, and lending a helping Inu d t j
all who ask und all who need.
> Items of Interest.
" Rents are enormous," as the loafei
sniil on looking at his pants.
; " So dark, and yet so light," as the
J man said w-hen he looked at his ton ef
[ coal.
Kansas is now the twelfth of the Unii
ted States with a compulsory education
i law upon its liooks.
The ]>oet Spencer made a sharp pun
1 when In i wrote, " Lastly came winter,
clothed all in frieze."
Iowa and Michigan are the. two West- *
em States which do not hang people for
murder, exoopt by mobs.
The crow is not so bail a bird, after all.
i It never shows the white feather, and
never complains without caws.
A convict in the Illinois State Prison
drove an awl into his head with a hammer,
but did not die. as he had exoeeted
I to. *
Sorrow comes soon enough without
despondency. It does no man good to
i carry around a lightning rod to attract
trouble.
' A man who lias voted and paid taxes in
i Norwich, Ct., for forty years, has just
discovered that his residence is outside
the city bounds.
4 4 Where do people go who deceive
their fellow men ?" asked a Sunday school
teacher of a pupil. 44 To Europe," was
the prompt reply.
The Canada thistle is supposed to
have sprung up in Europe from a seed
dropped two hundred years ago from the
stuffed skin of a bird.
441 can afford to be a little extravagant
now, as my husband's been elected to
the Legislature," said an Indiana woman ^
as she ordered six bars of soap to be sent
up.
Times have come to that pass when a
man can't set his house on lire, collect
the insuranoe and put on any style with
the money without some one is mean
enough to throw out insinuations.
Every form of carbon, whether diamond
or coal, when burned with full access
of air, produces carbonic acid, juBt
as the particles of our bodies do when
burned in the process of breathing.
44 You have a good husband, Betsey!"
44Um! so-so! good enough as men go.
But what makes you speak of him?"
44 He told me yesterday that in twenty
years he had never given you a cross
word." 44 Oh! I should think not, indeed
; and he better not try it, either."
A French mnmurer has an ? *
cedent plan in responding to encores.
No piece is repeated until tue entire programme
is given, when, after those who
wish to retire have left the auditorium,
the numbers redeinanded are given
again.
A pretty story is in circulation in
Hampden county, Mass. Some time
ago the sheriff found that he was receiving
SI,250 a year, while tho jailor had
$1,500. He proposed an exchange of
salaries to the latter official, and, as ho
preferred even $1,250 to a discharge, he
, accepted, and up to the time he left tho
oflice, paid tho sheriff $250 a year.
Recently Ilr. Anthony, the medical
officer of Dungarvan, in Wale3, was
called to attend a poor woman iu an advanced
stage of bronchitis. The cabin
in which she lay contained only two
small rooms. In one of these were a
horse and three pigs; in the other, where
the poor patient was lying daugeronsly
ill, ten persons were sleeping. The
door was closed, and the only ventilation
was through the chimney.
A little girl living near New Castle.
Ph., mistook the nature of Home concentrated
lye which was carelessly left in
n tin cup where she was playing the
other day, and drank it. The lye so in,
flamed her oesophagus that that organ
became too contracted to allow of the in|
troduction of even the smallest-sized
catheter. She now subsists entirely
upon beef-tea, which is introduced into
, the stomach by a very difficult and pain,
ful process.
" What Causes a llorso to Crib V'
i wiui the query of W. Gates, West Salem,
Wis., of the American Farmers' Club.
I Ho said: "I find a great many horses
that have what is called the crib-bite.
Buckliug a strap around the neck will
i not cure; only prevents while it is on. I
1 am anxious to lind out the cause aud the
cure."
i One member thought tliis cribbing of
no particular harm to anything hut the
| manger, poet, or whatever the horse
kimwt'u; wiiuh nuoiner one rose to Bay
there wan a decided difference between
i gnawing and crib-bite. In the former
the horse simply nibbled the surface of y
wooden objects ironi ) Inyfulneee or rest
leBsnoa?; but in the latter, the object wan
| seized with the whole breadth of the jnw
, and pulled, lie believed that this erib!
biug, visually looted upon as a desire,
i came from Rome irritation of the puma or
; teeth of the animal, caused from something
lodging in or between the teeth,
i and this violent gnawing van only r.n
effort for relief.