The independent press. (Abbeville C.H., S.C.) 1853-1860, December 03, 1858, Image 1
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. . ' \Y0tUME C?NO. 31. ABBEVILLE C. II., SOUTH CAROLINA, FRIDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 3, 1858. WHOLE NUMBER 291
STRICTLY TRUE.
was a wild little creature, with Iiur i
p pretty, dimpled Jpu full of mischief; al- :
wavs saving iydPava<rant things and giving \
y ? n oc>
people wri&g impressions, and yet she bore |
the important title of?Mrs. Dudley Riving- j
ton. ller liusband, who was deeideilly
grave and sedate, thought she did not supports*
name with eulHeient dignity, and
lie sometimes undertook to lecture her on
what he considered her "little failing;" but j
with some mischievous reply she was always
sure to put to flight his gravity.
Every one wondered how two people so
totally unlike as Dudley Rivington and i
Lizzie Rising had ever been drawn together; :
but it is a true saying that people like their |
opposiles, and Mr. Rivington, who was at !
lirst shocked, then amused by Lizzie's J
pranks, at length found himself in love with j
the little hoyden ; while Lizzie, who stood j
in considerable awe of this gentleman, gradu- j
ally fouud her respect deepening into a different
feeling. And so they were married. 1
* J
and, di tie re nt though thev were, no word of!
, . . *. . - --
uiscoru ever marred tli?:ir happiness. Jitbore
good naturedly with her mischievous
disposition, hut at times he would cast ^
about in his own uiiud for some way to
cure her.
4,Mv dear," said Mr. liivington,one day,
ns he entered the apartment where his bride j
was sitting, "I have heard something very'
strange."
"What is it?'' asked Lizzie.
"I have heard that your parents were i
very much opposed to our union, and that '
we were obliged to elope at night by jump- 1
ing out of the baek window, and that then
wo had gone immediately to the clergyman, {
-and had been married without the lenowl- 1
edge of our parents, who, in consequence, j
had disinherited you, and had refused to !
have anything to do with you."
"IIow very strange !" exclaimed Lizzie, i
"how could such a report have originated ?' |
"Have you not said something in fun
. . '
which might have given rise to it ?" J
"No, said Lizzy, thoughtfully, and then 1
she added, "Oh, now I remember. The .
other day, when Sally Brewster was
here?you know she has a perfect horror o'
old gentlemen?she asked me in her inno- j
cent wav, bow 1 caine to marry a person so i
much older than myself, "For my own part," j
said slie, "I never .should wish to marry an i
old man, and pa and ma wouldn't let me it
I did."?She is such an honest little crea- j
tun*, and always takes everything so literally
that I wished to antonish her, so I replied, ;
"I sprang out of a back window at night, |
when my parents were asleep, and I was |
married quite early the next morning." I ,
suppose that must have been the way the
story originated, and it has gained, of;
"course, by circulation."
"But Lizzie, what did possess you to say
such a thing?" continued Mr. Kivington. j
''Only for mischief. 1 meant to have undeceived
her before she left me, but 1 forgot
it."
"Do you tliiuk it right to say. what is not j
true, even in fun, Lizzie?" asked her bus- '
Ko.wl .-lit. - i~.i.
?. iuuh..
' But it was strictly true; Dudley; for
do you not recollect my telling you that
the night before we were married, I became
alarmed by the cry of fire next door, and 1 j
sprang out of the window which was near
v the giotn;d, and as soon as the Gist feeling
of fear was over, I returned to waken my
father and mother.
"What you said then was true in the
letter but was it so in the spirit?1' asked Mr.
llivington, as he gazed earnestly into his
wife's face."
"Now, grandpa," said Lizzie, as she stroked
down his whiskers, "please don't preach
me a sermon, for I was only in fun when I
at, and I thVnk people might understand
^ dreadfully matter of
'"V '
wiako vour assertions
With so grave a face von mast cxpect pcot
pre tdilbink* that you mean what you say.
^y\i)zvi) laughed, and wondered what made j
her husband bo very sober, and wished that j
* hb was a little more playful; while he in i
hi# turn wished that his wife was not quite !
eo full of spirits. But ho had still considerable
annoyance to go through with, before
gayo up thi? "little failing.1'
rlt was in vain that he Miked to her '
about dignity ; Jjfir yfpM would danco wit|j '
mischief as she hastened fo lfim.
I One day ho went.up/tdrhie wife as she j
was looking put ofthe window, and, putting
I til' anfl around berf inquired'why she w?? ]
looking out so WictGflly. - ?
4*I was'^earcKinflf for. so mediae
sunshine, for J ai"b pe'jfcctlj^ < '
otft * little w/vJfa&jtifWMpti.'
sir, of qbok '^Uefo. iL>
u nn ltnntl/* ua>? ?onj? k/.*k W^ -m
"Nfw, Mn So!orp(^^9^)^qiJiet f the
is nffcomfort 4n t^?gFg?'?troubles C
you {I suppose yoa '
h
self into trouble if you continue to talk in
this style, saying things you d.> not me in.
It was only this morning thai I had laih'd
and my wife was teaching a school ; do
you know how the report originated
"Nu, 1 aiu sure I do not."
"Are you certain that it was not some of
your mischief i Think."
Lizzie blushed as she replied evasively,
"I suppose it might have been through Mrs.
Minus, bhc is such a gossip."
"But what should r?ivi> her IIn>
"Why it was probably It out a rental k of
mine. I had forgotten about it until yon
spoke ; really she is so prying she provokes
t tie."
"Hut what was your remark !*' asked
her husband smiling.
"ll was something I said the other ilav.
when she came in ami fotuul me seated in
the midst of n number of tiei^hboi's children
who had come in for the purpose of
learning to crotchet a mat. She looked astonished
at seeing such a circle oflittle people
; and I said laughingly, 4,I have tun: d
teacher," whereupon slieaskel, ilia surprised
tone, -'.lave you And when 1
saw that she believed me to bo in earne-t,
I said very gravely,"Yes." Then site inquired
if my husband had failed, and as 1 recollected
that it was only that vety morning
that you had failed in vour attempts to
get on your new coat, whieh was too small
for you, I answered her in the affirmative.
I quite enjoyed the good lady's look of eager
curiosity, as she received this piece of
information, and -he soon took her depar
uiip, nut i never thought of her telling it
roil ml."
"That was certainly a wry good foundation
for the report, she could not have wished
f*?r a better,"said Mr. Uivingtoti calmly.
' What 1 said was all perfectly true, 1 >ii<1ley,
bat it was really very ridiculous of the
woman to take me so literally."
l I am afraid my dear, that your fun will
give me considerable trouble."
"1 am very Sony," said Lizzie, and sinraised
her sweet childish face to his.
And he bent down to imprint a ki?-s on
her rosy lips he felt half tempted to give u:<
the plan which he had formed for preventing
further mischief, and he recollect.-d the
many times that her love of fun had drawn
them into trouble, and with an ell'ort iie resolved
to carry it through.
'*1 shall have to leave you for a few day-,
my deal."
mo ?.lu? I ..*
^ .-.JV, V.AV/ICIII11.M, iWI Ullill.
' I atn obliged to go to A. to-morrow
morning, on business, but I will make my
stay as short as possible."
It was with a heavy hvart that Lizzie retired
that liight. She could nut b??ar the
thought of being separated from her luu
band even for a few days, and her ever active
imagination conjured up all sol* s of
dreadful things which might happen to one
or the other of them before thev should nect
again, lint it was necessary for him logo,
and the next morning she followed him t<> the
door, and received his parting kiss, and then
returned to the room to cry. Uut her spirits
were not easily depressed for a long time,
and she soon dried her tears, and lusied
herself about the house, thinking a'l the
time how pleasant it would be to ha-e him
return when the few days had expired.
In flie afternoon the bright sun seemed
tu invito her out lor a walk, and she accordingly
went, tjlic met a number of her
friends, but some bowed coldly, while others
passed her by with a scornful look. At
i one time she discovered two ladies conversing
together nwJf looking at her?What
; could it ineau ? Then bhe caught the
words?
i ''Very ?lrange, is it not ?"
"Yes," was the reply ; ''but then they
were so unsuited to each other, that one can
| scarcely wonder at ii."
: "That is true continued the first, "he is
so very grave, and she so full of mischief.'1.
As Lizzie walked quietly on? wondering
what thev could mean, and it* it w.ii nossi
. -- -9.? r??.*
ble that they referred to her, eh e lost the
remainder of the conversation. I'btn tl?e
words readied her from,. another direction
"I should not think ' " ?
seen out so soon."
And agaV"" r
gance/
I
| bar
with the ladies, you know. 1 think lie was
a perfect wretch to leave voti, and so soon,
tO'."
H'-r meaning began to Weak upon Lizzie.'
mind, and !-he exclaimed almost ilelcelys
"Of who are you speaking?"
"Mr. Ilivingtoti," replied Mr.-'. A.
in s ome surprise at Lizzie's excited manner,
*1 heard that, he had quarreled with you'
and that was the reason of the separation ;
and knowing that you must feel lonely, 1
: hastened to oiler mv sympathy, tnxting
..i i if... ?
Uur heroine diew herself lip with con-iderable
dignity, as sin; replied, "Allow me tv.?
say thai vou have been quite misinfoinied;
, tiiis is the tiist thai 1 have heard of any
; quarrel, ami llie separation was caused I?v
some business which has called my husband
away fur a low days."
.Nils. A hastened to apologize, and
soon alter left the house. Then came honest
Utile Sallv Ibewster, who threw her
nriiisaioiiud Lizzie's neck, and exclaimed
' in a tone of sincere sympithy?
'My poor, dear Mrs. Kivinglon! how
sorrv I do feel for you !
"Why d > you feel sorry for in*, Sally ?"
asked l.'zzio, in a calm tone.
>li, because?because?you know why,"
said Sally, hesitatingly.
"1 know nothing about me lo excite sympathy,
except thai 1 have been left alone for
a few days, in consequence ?.f my hu.-baud
having been called away on business."
Sally replied in a tone of sui prise, "Why '
I \vsi? informed?that?that '
"That my husband and I had cpiarreled
an<1 separated," said Lizzie.
"Vosi li.-.ve heard of the report, then, ntsd
' il is not true?"
, ' < Mi, ves, I have heard of it, ami I have
also been condoled with, l>nt I cannot imagine
what give rise to such an idea."
Sally did not hurry away as Mrs. A.
had done and Lizzie found it a coinfort
to have a friend with her. She was
ol.liir-d to receive vi.-its of condolence all
the afternoon, and in the evening her genth-mcu
friends came "to oiler their syinpathirs,"
as thev said, but Lizzie thought it
was rather to satisfy their curiosity, and
' she wished herself any where lather than in
! a country village. Kvery one expressed
such deep sol low for her, that thev almost began
to think she must be a very unhappy being,
and she became wrought up to a state of
wretchedness; idle did not dare to venture
out. and at length excused heiaelt positivelv
..ii .
*V ... I I'M
This stale of a flairs continued until the
return of Mr. Uivington, which look [ lace
rather sooner than his w ito had anticipated.
Lizzie ran t<> meet him and throwing herself
into his arms, hurst, into tears.
| "What ails my pet ?" lie asked, as he
kis-< d her affect innate!v.
"Oh, 1)udley sobbed IJz/.io, "there has
been Mich a strange ivport circulated
throughout the whole place?they said that
you and I had quarieled, and that was the
reason that you had gone awav and left me."
A <|uizzieul air came over Dudley's face
: as he replied :
"What very strange reports, my dear,
gain credence! llow could this have
ai i.-eii, do you know V'
i Jlis w ile replied ?
"1 have not the slightest idea; T am sure
it conl.1 not have been from anything that 1
have said, this time."
Dudley passed his hand thoughtfully
across his face as he observed slowly, "Could
I it have been from a remark that 1 made on
i the morning 1 left you? I recollect now
j meeting one of the neighbors, w ho inquired
how you were. 1 replied that you were
1 well when I la-t saw you. lint then we
i had a tew wolds together and separated. I
noticed tiiat lie looked rather surprised at
1 my answer."
' Oh, Dudley ! bow could you ?" exclaimed
Lizzie.
"Why, inj* dear, I was only in fun, and
j t; en besi les it was strictly true; but people
are very matter-of-fact?any one
might know that I would not leave you, no
matter for how short a time, without having
j a few parting words with you."
' "liut it has "placed mo in such n very
; strange position. 1 did not think that of
j you, Dudley."
Mr. Kivinglon folded his little wife in his
| arms, and asked to he forgiwn. Lizzie hail
. generosity enough to see how much trouble
j she had often been the cause of bringiug
; upon him in a similar way; and now, in
j her turn, she laughed heartily overtho mortification
she had suffered.
Her liusbaiKl's remedy proved a most ef1
factual one, and from that time she was
' more careful to reserve truth in the. spirit as
! well as in the retter, of what slie said.
I Scattering the SoutheBners.?Tlio sudden
I change from the iighs of the Indian summer to
tli* blustering gales of winter, ha9 caused a
.grand stampede of our Soutlfet^n friends, whose
faces have jieen Jor/filiai* to us during the otiturnn
in tin- promenade, the social circle and
ij>lnce3 ofpubliu amiucinent. With the first
nsjut, nw^ygoes the nnwelcoroo ' Yellow JadC;
'ae* fck>ttth<frh citiot, .onid ttte banished
icturn^lfluthcif. jiojwehol^' god*??
tr<?vel-just poMr is ^nSO\??^both
' n^f''nn^Lb a: fyegM*,
-qiorrov-, w|Jl,heWowt
d,c>t6 Ze% Y?%tyt4l
. ho ;Rui6iau4AtaSH<?tJfe
deparlurt wftj
1
1
Autumn.
BY S. II. WHITMAN.
!
I love to wandur through the woodlands liourv.
In the soft light of an autumnal di?V,
When summer gather* up her robes of glory,
And, like a dream of glory, glides nwny.
How, through eneh love], familiar path she
lingers,
1 Serenely smiling through the golden mist,
! Tinting the wild gni|>e with her dewy fingers,
Till the eool emerald turns to amethyst.
Warm lights are on the sleepy uplands waning.
lien en th dark elouds along the horizon rolled,,
, Till the slant sunbeams through the fringes
l
mining,
Bathe all the hills in melancholy gold.
Beside the brook and on tip; limbered meadow.
Where yellow fern-tufts lieck the hided
(ground,
Wit.li folded lids henenth their palmy fcliudow
The gentian nods, in balmy slumbers bound.
The lit lltf bird-, upon the hill-s'des lonely.
1**1 it. luii^k-sdly along front spray to spiav,
Silent as a sweet wandering thought that only
.Shows its bright wings and softly glides
away.
he seenth -s flowers in the warm sunlight
dreaming.
Forget to breathe .their fiillnes# of delight ;
And thro' the IrnnWd woods soft airs are
streaming,
.Still as the dew-fall of the summer night.
l.o! in my heart a sweet unwonted feeling
Stirs like the wind in ocean's hollow shell,
.Through all its secret chambers sadly stealing
Vet llnds no words its mystic charm to tell*
Fallacy of Premature Education.
\% licit we are considering the licalth ol
children, it is imperative not to omit the importance
of keeping their brains tallow, as
it were, tor several of the first years of their
existence. The miscljicf perpetrated by a
contrary course, in the shape of ba<! health,
pacvi>h temper, antic-developed vanity, is
incalculable. Some infant prodigy, which
i> a standard of mischief throughout its
neighborhood, misleads them, lint parents
may be assured that this early work is not,
' by any means, all gain, even in the way ol
woik. 1 suspect it is a loss; and that children
who bej;iii their education late, as it
would bo called, will i;ipidly overtake those
! who have been in the harness long before
tliem.
And what advantage cau it be that a
child knows more at six years old than its
compeers, especially if this is to be gained
at a sacrifice of health which iiisiv never be
i ) 'Pi . i . - -- <
, . J nun; mil> uu j-oine excuse lor
this early book work in the case of those
children who are to live by manual labor.
It is worth while, perhaps to run the rifk
; of some physical injury tc them, having on,
ly their early years in which we can teach
| them book knowledge. The chaime of mischief,
too, will be less, being more likely to
. be counteracted by their lifter life. Hut
' for a child who is to be at book-work for
the lirst twenty one years of his life, what
fully it is to exhaust in the least its mental
energy, which, after all, is its iurest imple.
nient.
A similar. coursc of argument applies to
[ taking children early to church, and to over!
developing their minds in any way. There
I is no knowing, moreover, the disgust and
j weariness that may grow up in the minds
: of young persons froui their attention fiej
ing prematurely claimed.?Afthurs Helps.
' rill'.Sril WoMl'V Anrt ci.na no....
i . - -
lively few beautiful women in Paris. I know
: of no large c-ity out of Egypt which has so
| lit tic to boast of in this respect. One may
] walk for hours on the Boulevards or the
; llue de ltivoli, ami not meet a dozen really
j lovely faces. Among the poor classes, ilie
women are generally hopelessly plain or po.sj
itively ugly. In the higher ranks, there art?,
1 of cobrse, many fine looking ladies, hut few
, positively beautiful. They have neither the
! rich blooming complexion of the English,
i nor the softncRs and delicacy of features of
; the Italian women. There is a frightful pre:
valence of snub no.-es and pig eyes, and vil|
lainous low foreheads. Every other women
you see is chubby or thick-waisted, dr roundshouldered,
or big-ankled. If she happens
to he tall, ten chances to one she is squiutfktrnA
mi.l l.oo ? I - --' 1
j v^vu itiKi lias ii liuinu biuup.
And then nothing is more common than
? to meet women will*, beards?luig<\ black
| and bristling ! Nothing has more forcibly
i struck me than this latter peculiarity. It
' is not Poofcs, but .hundreds,of 4P0inenyou
i meet dsiMJ\ with npp^r lips black as.the ace
j of spades. Thero is this to l^-said on the
I other hand?the Freftch women of the befj
ter o^dgrs dreJS "fvith exquisite- taste. By
j tliU mgans, defertts of ?*rtn nre greatly overcome,
and even <fef??cfs of face- are- softened
down ihlo sometbfngliplf charming. Add
to this perfcdtVnn of toiict,-a certain pcrtness
ana saneinessof calrihg^a vivacity the
. ip6*t sparkling, yot<tho most dalicAtv', and
thjlt indefinable naivete whiiih is'tlfecrowniii^gi'ace
of dtotnen ?ijnd you* h'iVe, 1 susr
peqt/^rl grand secret .of tire popularity of
i. CheFra\ut\\:galon.- - * *
XtoTrc&von ferfy<)f the Xftica Herald:
I *-c- I i,iV ' * 4 ? T" '% V V' rj
be
y feriors by pa^onJ'Tju^Minpr
own character'(Lan4ird0e?^f)iKl "Miffaj
I tlje fame thirfg is doriel^ ftrr^riW
arid penuiasiou. Find fault, wftjfgyou
find faint, in pri^? ^ Ujjoiii ?fe ('jlp^^onTO
f ftft?r ll>6 offence, ratlifr thVfy.-Ai the
tip*?, fbe blamed arc less inclined to reiis?,
whefrlhcy are blnmed without witness ;
[ From l/.e Ilomc Magazine.]
ONLY AN EPISODE.
1)V II. F. STAUFFEK.
From tli? lime tliat John Emerson first
I
: caine to Valley Home, I noticed tliata grad- j
' uhI change came over mo. I grew more j
thoughtful. My life seemed to be opening
to a more earnest heautv. Tliere was a re- ,
; gretfulness for that which was past, a restI
lessuess in the present, and a longing for a j
i swieter fulfilment of the future.
1 1
W by this was so, I could not tell. Mr.
Emerson was nothing to me. 1 did not love ,
him; I do not know that I even admired
him. There was little affinity between us.
He was calm, stern, reserved, and at times.
when he provoked me by his words or actions.
proud, arrogant, and presumptive,
j lie was loo deep for nie; too deep in
i learning, and too deep in observation, in
' contrast with myself, thtso traits and quali
ties were especially prominent. I was wild,
giddy, thoughtless ; couple with these, indolence,
and a dislike to study, and to the
every day actualities of life, and you can
; make a fair estimate of my character.
| I knew that I was beautiful ; but 1 am
! happy to say that, with this cotisciousncs,
1 there was no vanity. My beauty was of a
: peculiar style ; fresh, piquant, consisting of
combination, or at least a beauty not to he
subj ected to individualism.
Mr. limerson, on the contrary, was not
hand-onie. True, he was well formed, and
i graceful in his movements, but liit> face had
' nothing attractive about it. lfis lips bespoke
too much determination fur me, and
there seemed tube something so patronizing
about his smile, that I liked him less
when he smiled. Ilis nose was large, wt
corresponding with an iron month, like his.
while hi? eyes were cold and stern, rarely
| softening. They would loi?k into your face
as though it were a page of some antiquated
volume, only deepening in their color
when a true or beautiful sentiment was expressed.
I often thought that I hated Emerson,
lie was a sort of shadow resting on my
! buoyancy. The cold, positive mesmerism
of his character was driving me to the wall.
It repelled, nnd it nttracted mo by turns,
,..,,1 ..I l..*i T ?-.M ?? ? ? I *i
....-j >. ?? i luuiu ui/t icii wiiviner i iovcu
or hated him very much. lie made 110 advances
of love toward me ; lie did not even
seem to wish to strengthen our friendship.
There was nothing about me for him to love,
except my beauty. And what was beauty
to John Emerson I A wreath of smoke, a
. mist, a vapor ; ho recognized no beauty bej
yond the beauty of the soul. * '
J I was sitting listlessly upon the verandah
one evening. I had never felt so dissatisli|
cd with myself in my life, as T did just then;
! and, as"a consequence, 1 was di.-satisfied
i with everything around me. I felt peevish
and fretful?in a mood to quarrel with any
i one, but especially with John Emerson.
lie was sitting a short distance from me,
; with his chair leaning back against the
I railing. With him that was a favorite wav
; of silling. lie had been reading, hulas the
i twilight was deepening, he closed the book,
j and looked over to where I sat. A minute
j afterward, he drew his chair nearer to me,
' and said, in his quiet way,
i "What's tho matter, Kate? You seem
I sad ; nay, what is worse, discontented. You
j are in no mood to appreciate yonder beau|
tiful sunset. Look ! let some of its gorgc;
ousncss drop into your love and "
"L would prefer, sir, to have yon dropthe
i eonvcrsotion^'-I interrupted, crnstily.
i John Emerson smiled orte of those ubom'
inabh*, patronizing smiles.
aI do not ckoosc tj drop it, ma belle" he
said, quietly.
: "Iliaok heaven, I liavo an alternative
then. Good evening, sir."
! I arose, and gathered up my dress to de1
part.
"You are not going, Kate ! Don't f-poil
your pretty face with that" look of scorn. You
must sit down ati'd hear me out."
"Must r L>i?Jl I hoar right!"
"Yes, must. I 9aiil it very plainly."
I gazed at him with passion ; and yet
iiis calm, browq eyes seemed to draw the
fir^ out o?my owii. Before I was'aware j^f
it, T w*s Mttiojj doHyi agnin. ? J- jeoilId. Ii?rtl^
I Vy account for the fnCt, niuV 80 I bit nfy Hp,
I in r^xalinn. ?
i m ??i?oaa?o?3?mm
warping your soul. You are growing dis-!
satisfied with your own indolence. Why j
don't you.?bnke tbis off ? Why don'L you j
try and bo somebody ? to benefit Volirsclf i
and the world arouud you ? Positively,
such a drone as you are should blush from
shame."
"You, in turn, Mr. Emerson, should blush
for your imprudence ? Your conduct, is
outrageous 1"
'*1 am notdouo yet, Kate. Your in?Ulunce
has become tlie subject of re mail;.
You lull around, employing neither your
bead nor your hands. You do not even
seem to be capable of any noble emotions;
i ..i -ti - ?" ?
iinuvu nn, you lire, exirumeiy scijian.
Why, compared with tiio plough-boy now
: coming whistling down the lnno, you sink
into the most abject picture of imbecility."
I I sprang to my feet. I was very angry.
, "Mr. Emerson," 1 said, y?>ucan lay no
claim, whatever, to the title of gentlemen,
i To such insults 1 will not submit. I shall
i never allow a repetition of them ; and I
wish you, hereafter, to address no remarks
to me whatever. 1 hate you."'
i I swept past him?down the steps of the
verandah. Glancing fit lively back. 1 saw
that lie was leaning against oiks of the pi!'
lai>, shading his face with his hands.
At the garden gate I met a litlle bov.
He was the only child of a widow lady who
lived a shoit distance up the road.
i "Miss cra?l'ord," he said, "can I have
some flowers for Ma ?
"Certainly, child. I will help you to
; gather them. Is your mother sick
"Yes ma'am ; she is very lonesome.
1 Won't you come up and see her '"
; "Yes, I will, Kddy. I shall go with you
: light awav."
The little fellow caught my band, and a
jo\ous life shone in his eyes.
For two hours I sat l>y the bed-ide of
Mrs. Unix's. The bitterness had all gone
, out of my heart. 1 almost legretted having
>poken to Mr. Emersoti as 1 did. During
her long illue**, I was a constant visitor, atid
when they laid her in the quiet grave, much
of her patience, and her strong Christian
faith had passed over to me as an inheritance
for my watching.
I took the little orphan home with me.
1 became deeply interested in him, and in
endeavoring to beautify his life, I beautified
my own. I surrounded myself with every
day actualities; 1 stored my mind ; I schooled
mv temper; I labored with my hands :
and the quietness in my soul was my bouui
tifuI i eward.
Months passed on. Mr.'Emerson noticed
; the change in me. lie did not speak to me
at all; but whenever I mot him, there was
; a kindlier jjlow in his eyes. Ono day I
came up to him, ant! laying my hand oti
his shoulder, said,
"John you may speak to me again. You
, may say anything to meyou please.
Mr. Emerson caught my hand, and as I
looked lip into his face, 1, for the first time
i in my life, thought him handsome.
' Did I do right? Did I sacrifice my
I pride ?
I We daily grew more and more intimate.
| lie seemed to be .^Jenlly moulding my
! character, lie directed my studies. lie
! opened to my view new sources of profit
: and beauty. I sat within his spiritual raili!
ancc, and he was gradually becoming dear!
er to mo than life itself. It was something
I giand to learn on one so stern, so just, so
; positive, and yet so kind withal.
! "Kate, will you bo my wife ?
; This was said so abruptly, that I startled.
! I felt my cheeks tingle, and I dared not
look up into his face. It had come at last ;
' and just in the blunt manner in which nobody
elso but he would have said it. lie
was in every sense a practical man.
"l)i(l Vim nnl I I'll inn Mr Tfinuronn "out
?..^>v
c*(l I, "that my love or my hatred was nollii
ing to you ?"
i 1 had not forgotten that. I wouldn't
j have been a woman if 1 had.
| ' I did, Kate. That was long ago. Your
i love is very much to me now."
i "I am very sorry for this, John."
"Why ?" he asked, in astonishment.
' ]3ccause 1 do not love you."
j "You do love me, Kate ; warmly, passionately."
j There it was ! The same positivene-ss, the
i same assurance.
i "You loved me long ago, Kale?and you
know ii."
j "It is as much ns I can do to pardon such
| presumption."
| "It is no presumtion, Kate. Y'oudolove
| me. and you will he wife."
This was the first time he had ever spoken
lo me either passionately or vehemently,
t "Oh, dear!" I sighed. "Such ft innfi as
you are ! I have no will of my own any
\ more."
I-tossed with my foot nmong tlio fallen
| leaves for a few momenta, and then loukiuy
1 straight into liis evea, said, '
| ' Well, Julin, I will be
j And litis is the episode, v.'*1
Another Atlantic TittBtraArn.?The Galfray
(Ire-laud) Vindicator saja"that a company* is in
corffae 6t ,'ba called the Bi'iiitli
trfd Cna Hrfb Tflograp11 Company,
tiah Korth^iand
Quebeo, and-?*U.nd
?it oA^fUA-^^Pft^pelido a$ iopf> flfitry?rd?
?d?;4m$d expedient, Tfio corripany
. v>rujvu^TOT|#M? "ijb. ursi iecnon Bimii r.gmnience At
Cnitway, orosa tho. Atlantio to Bello I^le, find
mm* conrse of tho river St. Lawrence to
The wire to bo used will be of a to
talljr different .^nature apd construction from
ndy hitherto employed, and the whole arrangement
will be each a* to secure its being successfully
laid.
avtf&b to Bachelors.?Be. sure to
nnnex A woman who will lift you up, instead
of pushing you down. .^In mercantile
pbrwe, got a piese ofwdioo tu?tjrill ,wa*b.
r ' k> j. N< < J/>j
W? i>tlepiirtr widoW m?yl{i>?
condition by rt-^lnng. - V.- . ?
-> . '.j % * '>,' >* ,rr.'> > ' ?!
^ji , aieJSfii
A Bull Fight
I remember once seeing, wliea a lad at
school, RjPgJu betjre.elitwo bulls. ^Although
I"c6ufd not'lTuir^h^^*^1^r^lt90^)ght
years of age, I shall never forget, tlie ij&ci
lacle. It happened in this wise : Cloie by
the school liouFe?a very unfl'retenduig.edifice
it was?-ran a depp and, rapid tfyfQT.?Across
it had been; thrown a high .wooden
biidge, the hand-railings of which lime and
tlio winds and weather had entirely deatroyi'il
Til.. Iinw) nn (lira nnnoaifo niiln^uf ilia
stroam was owned by different person's, and
farmed by thern respectively. Obe bright
summer day?I remember it. at it were
yesterday?tlio liour of noon bad arrived,
and a frolicsome, fun-seeking troop'of school
; boys were let loose for ab hour's recreation.
All at .once the bellowing and roaring of
two hulls, that had broken out of thejr.eni
closure on each sidu of the river, attracted
our attention. The animals were not yet
in sight of each other, but were approaching
along the highway at a rate of speed
which would cause them to meet near the
; centre of the high bridge which 1 hare dei
scribed, and beneath which, at.some thirty
' feet, ran the river, between steep banks.?
The more daring of us gathered near th?
I bridge, lining it, to see the anticipated fight.
\\ O Wore noi UlSHppuiMiiru. 11 cmci auu
nearer they approached, the proud, pawing
combatants. Basliam never produced two
brutes of fiercer aspect. They hulted their
sides with their tail*, they tore the ground
. | with their feet. Occasionally they kneeled
down, trying to gore'the earth with their
horn-;. And as ret they were concealed, ,
caeh fioin the other, by. the ascent to the
bridge at either end.
Presently, as they simultaneously ascended
the respective abutments, they came
luli in sight of each other. The roarwa?
' ? . .. - -V
mutual and actually iremenuous. mcij
' urcliin of lis sprang into the fields and ran.
, Finding, liowevor, that we were not pursued^
we hastily retraced our stops. There thoj.
were, the ferocious duelists, quite as sensibly
employed as some of their human iini^
' tutors. Front to front, their horns locked,
every.muscle strained, they were fighting aa
j only-bulU can fight. It seemed an. even
I match. Now one would press . back,bi? opponent
a few paces, and presently- you would ,
! hear quick, sharp, short steps, ^Htidjbis ad-'5?
' versary would be prcised- back ip ^turn.?
The struggling was^lfor^^nr-long,- - wa?
! savage. For a while, neither (Obtained au
"y
i advantage.
Hitherto they had been poshing each
! other length-wise of the bridge;- suddenly
j they began to wheel, and,'inVa^moinent
1J were facing; each oilier croaa-wiM?;Thej war?
j at right angles with. the'Iengtli, of the old
: bridge,' which shook, and created, and rockI
^ # * V 7*'
ed again, with iheir tramping,and their,terrible
strife. It was the work oftoiingle moI
mant; one of tho beasts?J-ijejer'cpuM,
| whicji or.e of them, howeVerf^tircpn??joua
j of his position. made a violent,;a*dt*j>6ritG
! plunge forward, and pressed liis antagonist
i back?back?back?till there wasibat an!
other step of plank behind him^betjffeep
him and nothing! The moment' was on?
I of intense interest to ns juvehile spectators.
. Never was the amphitheatre of Rome the
scene of a more exciting combat. Another
step backward; yes, tho unfdrtiitinte ball
j lias been forced to takeMt!- 13kt;k h?i?
! pressed, and over he goes'!
Such a ..sight I never saw?I' probably
>Iiall never see aj$ainv ';fmngjno .a bull
I pitched backward over a-b.ridg gi..atl.d falling
at least thirty feet, over ?and$veV4**JIe
turned once or twice,^obably *I;thought
; he tufned fifty tlni^s,
! cotf'usion of Horns and .ftet Yejfdlvingi fij'r
| ing through* die flit liul^dovro
1 the water was deep, and *h&r*j[j#appeii red,
j leaving a whirlpool of foijp Whlhd^Wijii - |
| Hti-l tuakirffj the riv^u^d^Ht^far-and wide j
ille abyss bv*
' Iiis unlucky *
mdi?^t('j!iBa^ii^if
prosp'(^"'l i e'befflW-W
Wk?tifry Ver i^n 11oppo'
sito i^Je. of Tpe^>fjw?* ?
*
' vestry l?rt<^<ion?-^nHr^nt & before.
It Ww ?o0&'eifo6ttij^' *iid Uw p?. ;
for i na ri cq pa I led forth' ii?m'en?e ftpptnuio
from thVgfoop of 'jntetrtlo who
witiwssttl it. Id about five minute# both
bulls might be seen^.well sobered by their
ducking, dripping wet, scratching'up tytf j
steep, gravelly tank** eaoU on bit owatride j
of the river. "Those bulls will ttever flgbt
nny moresaid a