■ •*» ^ ; • (f; HERALD THE VOL. IV. DARLINGTON, S. O. 5 ,' FRIDAY * JUNE 22, 189 L MTfLE MISS BRA 0. lias Brag has much to *ay he rich little lady from over the way; I the ri< h little lady puts out a lip iil she looks at her own white, dainty slip And wishes that t'e could wear a gown A* pretty as gingham of faded brown 1 Str little Miss Brag she lays much stress !Ol the privileges of a gingham dress— “Aha, Oho!” AS Hch little lady from over the way Has beautiful dolls in vast array; TAR she envies the raggedy home-made doll She hears our little Miss Brag extol. For the raggedy doll can fear no hurt From wet, or heat, or tumble, or dirt! Her nose is inked, aqd her mouth Is, too, And one eye’s black and the other’s blue— "Aha, Oho I” The rich little lady goes out to ride With footmen standing up outside, Yet wishes that sometimes, after dark •fler father would trundle her in the park:-- That, sometimes, her mother would sing the things Little Miss Brag!says her mother sings When through the attic window streams. The moonlight full of golden dreams— “Aha, Oho! ” Tes, little Mias Brag has much to say To the rich little lady from over the way; And yet who knows but from her heart Often the bitter sighs upstart— Uprise to lose their burn and sting In the grace of the tongue that loves to sing’ Praise of the treasures all its own ! So I’ve come to love that treble tone— “Aha, Oho!” —[Engene Field, in Chicago Record. me OH laii’s siui. BY MARY KYLE DALLAS. “When I was a girl,’’ said the old lady—sire was a very, very old lady, eighty-five or more, they said, “things were not as they are now, and the post office, here in America, was not managed as it is to-day. Getting a letter was a serious tiling, and send ing one mere so. I've reason to know that. i “I lived in the country with my aunt and uncle—not my real uncle, for he was my aunt's second hus band, and she only an aunt by mar riage—but I had no other kin and was glad to have home folk. I had, beside, a cousin by courtesy. His name was Thomas, and that was about all I knew of him for years— he came in and wenf out without taking any notice of me. His father used to talk about him before mo, finding fault with his idleness. Once I heard him say: “ ‘The boy has not the making of a man in him, Cynthia. You wait on him and spoil him, and one day you’ll regret it.’ “Then aunt asked uncle if he wished her to be hard on the only son out of three. “‘Not hard,’ he answered; ‘only Tom ought to be taught that he will have to see to himself—we have ^ nothing to leave him. If I should die before you, he ought to be able to support you—and he takes to nothing.’ “Tom, by this time, was a young fellow of nineteen, and I was fifteen. Three years later he had no more idea of settling to any business than he had had before, and I had cpme into a fortune. It was not a large one, but it was enough to make me comfortable for life, and I was glad to stop washing dishes and doing the Ironing, and ask my aunt to make me a boarder, since I could pay her well. “She was pleased, and that day I left my little garret-room under the eaves, and had a large room on the second floor given me. “Besides paying my board, I hired a servant for the housework, and my aunt thought that very generous. Hitherto I had worn her made-over gowns. Now I sent for M'ss Crab tree, the dressmaker, and had plenty of dresses made, giving Aunt Cynthia a rich black silk and a broche shawl. She made a great fuss over them, and I was not surprised that my cousin Tom should begin to be very pleasant to me, for the first time in my life. “I thought it was because he saw I had kind feelings and was grateful for what had been done for me when I was a little orphan. It was a new thing to be made so much of as I was now, and I enjoyed it. Even when Cousin Tom began to make love to me I never guessed that it was be cause I had money, as I know it was now. “ ‘Will you marry me, Cousin Belief he said one day, and my an swer was: 'Tom, I feel as if I did not love you the right way, we are too much like brother and sister. ’ ‘ ‘But he teased me and teased me, until I told him that he might ask me again at the end of the year. “ ‘But you must build no hope or that,’ I said, ‘for I think I shall feel just as I do now.’ “And ptiw Aunt Cynthia began to praiss b*r boy to me, f d to say how glad she shouM be if he had chosen some one she loved. “It might be that I would have yielded to this pressure, but that something shortly happened to turn the wholr current of my life. , It can be told in a few word;. I met Ar thur Lorrimer at the house of a friend. He devoted himself to me that even ing, and he saw me home, and I un derstood from what he said that he was in love with mo. Cousin Tom was furious tha+ i had accepted other escort. We bad a scene that very night. Tom was very rough and brutal. *■ eHp - “ ‘You have no right to accept an other man’s attention^,’ he said. ‘You are engaged to me.’ “Of course this was false, and I told my aunt what I had really said to him.. She only cried, and told me that I hi'.d eo feeling for her poor boy, who loved me so well. “1 might have believed that he lov ed me, and felt myself guilty, but that a little later, coming down stairs to find my gloves, which I had drop ped, and stepping softly, fori thought the whole house was asleep, I saw Aunt Cynthia and her son still sitting beside the grate. “‘I don’t care a rtti for the girl herself,’ Tom was spying, T know many a one I admire more, but l like her money, an«Lit would into my pockets without any trouble. I hate work, And it secmed'such a soft thing to get a rich wife.| “ You shall have the child,’ said the mother. ‘I can keep that jacka napes away. Fine clothes and city ways have caught her fancy, that is all. Besides, now do you know the man means anything. “ ‘By his looks,’ said Tom, ‘I kept wondering what lie saw in her pale little face to roll his eyes for. Why, I think she is very nearly plain.’ “I went up stairs without my gloves, but my heart was very light. I could have no pity for a fortune- hunter, and the words I had heard made me happy. “To cut a long story short, lest I bore you, it was not long before I was engaged to Mr. Lorrimer. My aunt hod permitted his visits, and told me that she hoped I would not leave her until I was married. I knew that the money I contributed to the house hold was valuable, and agreed to stay. Tom I seldom saw nowadays; when I did, ho was sulky. “I hud known all along that my be trothed husband was going to Balti more for a few months before our marriage, but when the time came, it was very hard to part, and when he was gone I was very sad and lonely. As I told you, in those days the malls were very slow — there were no steam cars. “For a long time I was not alarmed, but at last a terror beyond words fell upon me, and I expected nothing but to receive tidings of ill ness or death. What came to me, how jver, was this: “A paper in which was marked in pencil a notice of the marriage of Arthur Lorrimer to Augusta, daugh ter of Everliegh Turner, Esq., and a note in an unknown hand. “ ‘Madam’—it read—‘As one of Mr. Lorrlmer’s closest friends, I am charged with a message to you. You will see that he is married to his love with whom he quarreled two years ago. That love will have its way, is the only excuse he can offer. He prays that you may be happy, and begs you will forgive him. ^ “ ‘A. Avpletom.’ ” “I did not faint, I did not weep, when I received this letter, but I felt the shock in every nerve. My cousin had brought the mail from the post- office, and as I sat gazing into the fire he touched mo on the arm. “ ‘Cousin Belle,’ he said, ‘I read the paper on my way home. See now what a false lieart you have been trusting in, and setting aside a love that would have lasted you for life.’ “ ‘Do not utter falsehood, Cousin Tom,’ I said. ‘You care nothing for mo; you want my money, for I heard you tell your mother so. But I will marry you and show this deceiver that I am not pining for him. Only remember, I do not love you anymore than you do me; and I will never give you even a kiss.’ “ ‘Oh, Belle, 1 do love you! I said what I did out of pique!’ cried Tom, ‘and I am sorry you heard me. W'e shall be a very happy couple yet.’ “ ‘Never!’ I said. “ ‘I’ll write to this fellow,’ said Tom. ‘Pretend we have not hoard the news, and tell him you’ve found out you like me the best, and want to be off with me.’ “ ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘you may do that, I hate you both; but tell any lie you like.’ , And ho ran away. “Silting in the room where I stood was a looking-glass which reflected a portion of the kitchien. As I hap pened to turn my eyes that way, I saw my aunt standing near the open fire reading a letter. As she read, she seemed to watch and listen. “In those days we used both black Ink and red for correspondence, and Arthur had a fancy for red. This letter was written in that color. The writing, too, looked at that distance like his, and the secrecy of Aunt Cynthia’s manner awakened my sus picions. I took n step forward, and she flung it into the fire, and I saw her run out at the garden door. The next instant I was in the kitchen. “The paper had not blazed up at once, for it had fluttered behind the back log. I caught up the tongs and brought it safely out. It was scorch ed and yellow, but I knew I could read It; and running to my room, bolted myself in and examined the paper. “It was a letter from Arthur, and from I learned that he had written many times, and having received no reply, had grown so anxious that he had resolved to come back again. “ I am greatly Irritated to-day,’ he said. ’Some rascal has thought it a good joke to publish a false marriage with an unknown, probably imagina ry lady. It.is unlikely that you will ever see a Baltimore paper, but, I can not help troubling about that, too. However, we shall meet in a few days. The stage should arrive at next Thursday.’ “I saw It all—my cousin had play ed a deep trick. The advertisement was his work, and he had forged the letter, but I was evister at last. "As for my auut, '•mol crea ture had destroyed the letters *.*r which she knew I was longinp—she would willingly have broken my heart in order that her son might have my money. “I believe from what I saw that she had not been able to finish the letter, and was not aware how soon Arthur would arrive, for this day was Thursday, I remember, and night was coming on. “I- went down to ten as though nothing had happened. My cousin took my hand and kissed it, my aunt advanced and kissed my cheek. “ ‘Here are true hearts,’ said she, ‘and we will compensate you for what false ones have made yon suffer.’ I