The Pickens sentinel. (Pickens, S.C.) 1871-1903, January 24, 1878, Image 1
DBVOTD TO OLTICS, MORALITY, EDUCATION AND rO THE GENERAL INTEREST OF
oL. VII. PICKENS, S. C., THURSDAY, JANUARY 24 1878
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.A LIFE FOR A LIFE.
BertrIde Dodge was blue It was
Aug.st weather-there %as no air
stirring from one arid nofin until the
next, and the intects kissed mali
ciously all day long in the parcled
grasses. Perhaps that was the ret
son Bertrode was blue.
Perhaps it was tha as she walked
Grover's Tract, day by day, and 8.iw
the sumtnier's hinted ctimpleti0 ii
the ted apples buriing among the
gray green b ughs, the ha. fields at
aftermari h, theMurpled tasFelled corn
and yullow wheat, that she telt her
life to be aimless. Sie had let the
sunmer cotme and wane across het
passive existeuca. The previous
wititer she had said, 'I leel ice bound
now. When summer comes, I wi!l
shake off this inertion and redeem to
day.'
Yet the snmmer was rapidly ivas
sing and she was still a dream. Ta e
Irjur never seemed to come which
called her to exertion. Well, 'Love's
young dream' c')mes but once; it was
all id1i, pea hiaps.
Grover's Tract and her farmhouse
life was not dull as s--e had expected
it would be when she returned from
her mountain tour a year before; ons
ly at times tihe ont door sounds and
the leisurely growing works ofuature
oppressed her. In the winter she
had been gaty, looking at the %unset
across the snow, watching the chJichs
a-dees, and searching the woods for
purple mererion. In the spring the
long walks.to the postoflice had been
fuli of joyful fanacies and golden r'eali
ties; she loved the sweet country
sights and scenes more than ever be
fore in her life.
But in August something seemed
to oppress her. The sky burned too
blue, the woods were too calmly con
tent in their greenne8s, the days clos
ed too beautifully in their ripe splen
dor, as she walked the Tract at suns,
se; coruing from the post oflice
coming always empty handed. Yes,
something was wrong, arid when she
realized it ifully, she said:
"I am idle-I am steeped in idle
ness. I have been doing nothing for
a year. *Now I will have svzme work
and Dick may go to the post office.
1 care too much for those letters."
Whatever those letters nmight be,
there come no more of them. A coer
tain gay tourist drifting about the
world, forgot to write them at last;
perhaps Bertrodo was pretty, but one
traveling everywhere meete many
pretty faces.
J3ertrode's cheek grew thin and
wi,ge. fler mother saw that she
struggled to repress a growing irri
tableness. Blut she worked on un,
ceasingly at her new employment of
teaching the district school at Gro
ver's Tract. She devoted herself to
the children. Their pat ents sa id
Bertrode smiled only faintly at their
praise.
One day, coming from school
through the woods, she flung herself
down among the ferns and dry gras
see.
"It is dust and ashest" she cried.
The sky gleamed blue through
green borghs overiead, and a bird
sang cheerily in a neighboring bush.
She lay there until she felt the dew
talling. As she rose up, something
rustled at her side. She llooked
down; a great rattle-enake was slip
ping through the grass, going from
her, apparently unaware of her pre*
ence. Fascinated immovable, yet
full of horror, she stood and watched
the creature. For a moment. it glid
ed 6teadily on, its coiirre so direct, its
appearance so sub'le and deadly, Ihat
she felt spell buund as she regarded
it. Suddenly, with a thrill of horror,
she saw the reptile's a-*m; it was
miakihig directly for a shady spot,
where a man lay asleep beneath the
trees One moment more would be
to late to prevent the threatened at
tack. Starting frti her passivity,
she s ized a stone at her feet and
hurled it tull at the creature. He
had just pansed and raised his crest
to view his position, when the stone
struck him upon the back of tlie head
and with a venLeful hiss lie leaped
into the air, then fell at hull length
upont, the grisund and slowly expired
Burtrode stood looking at the dusty
length and bloody head of the dead
snake, hr mind in a sort of wender
that anything could be so loathsome,
when she Leard her name spoken.
She raised her eyes and saw Fennel
Gould stainding hetore her. The
young man loke at tlie snake with
a sort of sitdder, and said:
"Bertrode, you must have saved
my life."
"I suppose I did," she answered.
"The creat ure was comidg dir ectly
toward you. Did you ever see any
thinig so hoi rible, Fennel?"
Hie to''k her hands; she hardly
glanced at him
"DiIarl ing," hie said.
She snatched her hands away, sud
den impatience.
"Dn', she said. I wish yon
wouldn't Fennel."
"But I love you."
"1 cannot help it "
lie regarried her sorrowfully. She
took her shawl from the grass and
put it on.
"It is chilly here and late. I am
going home," she said.
Hie walked silently at her side out
of the woods and across the wide
fields of Grover's Tract. Never was
there a miore hopeles lover that Fen.,
nel Gould. At the farmhouse door
he said, "Good night, Bertrode." She
bowed an,d be went on over the bill
in thne warm gray twilhght, cursing
his cruel fate as lovers have cursed
their fates before
'Ibrough a succession of hot days
the month went out. Before it had
passed, Bertrode wa's taken sick
miserably ill of fever. Shne suffered
wearisonmely, but little could be dlone
for her. It was a slow fever which
must burn out its course. She was
thirsty continually, and suddenly itn
the midst of her suffering the sprin.z
which had supplied her with coo'
water grew dry, and all other water
tasted warm and brackish to her
fevered lips.
"If I only had some ice, motherl"
she moaned'
"I know dear, but there is no ice
in less than twenty miles."
Too ill to express her miserty, the
poor, fevered girl feel asleep, to
dream of the old y ellow Grover Tract
et age straining its way over the heavy
sandy roads to Northboro', the only
place where there was an ice house
there to procure for her a great
green block of the refreshing ice she
coveted.
"It will be so nice!" she mnrmnredr
in her sleep. "My throat is parched,
and it will cool my drink so deli
ciously!"
A cricket sang in the heated wall
and woke her. She heard the stage
trundling over the hill.
"Has it come, mothetI" she asked.
sWhat, deart you are dreaming.
Wake up. and drink some of this nice
iced lemonn de."
"Ice, mother where did you get
it"
"Fennel has been to Northboro for
it. le's very kind to you, Bertie,
dear."
"It's refreshing. IIow long have
I been asleep, mother?"
"All the afternoon, and I really
think yon look better, Bertie."
Bertrode turned on her pillow and
tell asleep again. In the morning
she was better, but not well. The
pale lips were still parched-the
mouth so long fevered, tasteless. She
relished only the drinks, iced and
coIl, which her mother prepared.
One day she said:
"HI 1w is it that that ice lasts so?"
"Why Fennel goes to NDrthboro
for a fresh piece every other day.
The weatber is so warm that it melts
very fast."
"But its haying time. How carn
he be spared?"
"He goes at night nfter 8 o'clock.
I don't st e how lie can do it when lie
works in the field until lie is. ready
to drop."I
"Then why do you ask iiin, moth
er?''
"Goodne . child! I never asked
Hin; I ges7 I did n't! Il's his own
sCrvice. I ne er demfned of asking
him."
Bertrude, blstered up in bed, sat
silent a . bilO.
"Fennel's very khid," sho s;iid at
las'; "but I don't like to tax people
so. AIIther, if I am butter to-inor
r-ow, can1 I rido out?"
"Perhaps so,."
Tosm-rrow Pertrode wros feverish
again. Nothing passe her arched
lip s but a yellow peach, a rareri pe,
that wasI a wvonder to the neigh bor
hood.
"Whbere did it come from, mother?'
'Fennel brought it."
The next morning when she awoke
a gust ot spicy coolness8 whiffed into
her face.
"What is that?" she cried, starting
II,.
Juta pitcher of sprays from the
esrnb oaks of the lowlands, thieir' ten
der pendant acorns swinging among
tie glassy leaves--branches of bay
terry, sweet fern, and a handful of
cieckerhernry mixed with sweet
eA'amp heliotrope, and wi)d asters,
dl dripping with morning dew.
"0, mother, bring it closer! Where
dd you get it.?" placing her thin,
vhuite ha.nds among the cool, sweet
fiilage
"Fennel left it at the door' this
nlornin)g. lie thought it wonld
"It does please me."
No one but Fe nnel knew howv she
iked fragrant green leaves and
svamp heliotrope.
She was grateful, and told Fennel
o when she saw him. To prove it
ihie let him drive her ont and find
tier roses again among the fields. As
the light came back to her' eye anid
he dimple to her cheek, she laughed
merrily sometimes, and forgot to
ook wistfully towards the mountains,
1s he h)ad noticed her doing so often
wo months before.
One day she was pale and tronbled
then Fennel came with his buggy.
ihe was silent for a few moments af,
ir they began their drive.
"Fennel, are you going away?"
"Yes."
"Why, tell me, please?"4
"I thank I had better."
That was all. She did not dare
retend not to understand him. Both
een were nale, lie tunedr towa
her at la-t, smiling faintly, and said:
"Yes, Bertie, you don't need me
any longer, and I am going away to
try as hard as I can to forget you. It
is strange that such a sweet.-eyed girl
should cause so much pain, isn't Mit"
Bertrode didn't speak. They rode
in silence along the river road. Ber.
trode was listening, as if charmed, to
the chirping of a little bird among
the scrtb oaks by the river. It was
a hearty, cheery little bird that seem
ed to have no nonsense about it. .
The road grew narrower. The
tree branches met above their heads
and gradually grew lower. Fennel
put out his whip to hold them out of
their faces. The motion startled the
horse-or he might have been twan
ged by the springing sprays. He
leaped suddenly forward, and Ber.%
trode was flung from the carriage
Rnd down the steep bank into the
river.
Stunned by the shock, she floated
like a corpse. If ehe bad seen Fen-.
niel Gould's face, then,. she would
have wondered, even though she be
lieved that she knew his love. He
Irew in the prancing horse, and flung
hirnself from the carriage. Dashing
down the seep declivity,and lie threw
[timself into the river.
The tide was rapid. Already the
Igure of the drowning girl, half sub
inerged, was floating i i the middle
Af the current. There were strong,
Berce rapids a quarter of a mile be
low, and the tide swept them both
toward it. Fennel Gould expended
rvery resource of body and heart in
that struggle for life and love. She
Roated on -on- before him in the
fowing waters until the great beads
of agony and pain s'oo I 11)O) his
forehead. Bat one fortunate stroke,
and he caught ier ecarf.
He struggled back ro land and fell
3xhansted upon the bank. F,ir a
noir ent lie lay there, panting; then
-ising, I e lifted Betrode into the car
-iage, and carried home the life lie
aid s ived.
Evening came. Fennel was at
omne- pacing thouighitfually the floor
f' his litle chamber. It was twi
ight, and the scent of the r'ipe ap
)les in the or'chaIrd filled tie dim
'oom. lie did not notice either, but
ae was roused suddenly by a knock
it the door. It was little Willy
Dodge with a note. Hie opened it.
[t bore these worde:
"Fennel come home with Willy. I
xvan t to see you."
Thtwas all, but hie knew who
aent it. He went out of doors with
he chilJ. Holding the boy's hand,
)C walked the fields he had walked a
nonth before with his heart bitter
as rue. The crickets were singing
Imong the grasses. A strange light
ess p)ossessed him, and yet lie kept
)utting down his heart-not dar'ing
o hope. The farmhouse door was
pen and Bertrode was sitting in the
orchx. Little Willy went into the
ionse, lFennel set down on the step.
"What do you want, Bertrode?"
"I will tell yOU by and by."
The t wilight grew more dim as
hey talked of nnimpor tant things,
mntil they could- not see each other'"s
'aces. Trhe crickets were siniging
mundreds of songs in the grasses by
le roadside. Thme dew fell and woke
:he sweetnevss of the ro"ad-side ferns.
A I, ng time passed, and at last
F'ennel arose.
"It is time to go, Ber:trcde. Will
r'on toll me now?"
The moon came up, arid showed
ier face pale and her lips tremulous
>ut she stood up by his side and
poke firmly. "I want to ask you
'ot to go away Fennel. 1Lon't go."
There seemed more to be said, but
hIe could not say it. Her voice died
mn ner lips, and the eager light in
1"ennel Gould's eyes faded.
"I cannot stay, Bertrode; don't be
roubled to pity me. Good-by, and
3od keen v.ou. dear, forneve!
He stooped to kiss ber head. Her
arms were around his neck.
"My love, my love," she cried,
"don't leave me. I want you; you
make me happy; and I have never,
never loved any but you, true heartl
Take my life-you have saved it
and spare me the one you risked in
my salvation. I will try to make it
happy, but indeed, Indeed. Fennel,
I am not worthy of you!"
Heart to heart, at last; Heaven's
angels bless them!
A Bonanza of the Deep.
It will be remembered that the
steamer Japan, of the Pacific Mail
Company, was burned off the coast
of China in December, 1874. The
scene of the accident was one hun
dred and thirty five miles east of
[loTig Kong. The nearest land was
Breaker Point, twenty miles away,
and the depth of water where the
wreck sank was twenty three fath
om. The Japan had on board a
bout $350,000 in specie, and the un
derwriters at Hong Kong immedi
ately gave nutice of their intention
to attempt the recovery of the coin.
They engaged for this undertaking
Captain John P. Roberts, of New
York. A schooner and a small
steamer were bought and equipped
with the necessary apparatus,and in
January, 1875, Captain Roberts be
gan sweeping the ocean's bed in
search of the wreck. In the month
of March lie found one of the paddle
wheels, but it was not until near the
end of July that he discovered the
wreck, eleven miles southwest of the
position of the wheel. From this
time to the 12th of September work
was pushed forward for the opening
of the treasure tank and removing
the monev. The south west monsoon
blows from March to September, and
it is only during the prevalence of
this wind that the divers are able to
woik at the wreck. On the 12th
the monsoon ceased, and the work
was abandoned, and on the morning
of that day Captain Roberts believed
that the whole enterprise would end
there and the Japan and her treas
ure be allowed to rest undisturbed
forevermore. Butoun his last p)lunge
for the season the diver managed to
push his hand throngh a hole in the
tank and secut e a black lumrp resem%
bhing a piece of coal. The lump, on
examination, proved to consist of
twenty four American trade dollars,
burned and oxidized so much that
they required a great deal of scour
ing to reveal their true character.
But they were much more than *24;
they were valuable as an encourage.
ment to the underwriters to continue
at their work. The wreckers retired
to Hong Kong for the six months of
the northeast monsoon, and resutngd
operations in the following spring.
Since then there has beet) no serious
obstacle to the prosecution of the
enterprise, and during the summers
of 1876 and 1877 about $175,000 of
treasure has been recovered. It is
thought that the balance of the mo
ney 'a ill be seen red in 1878. It is
the first wrecking operalion ever
conducted in the open ocean at so
great a depth, and the instances
where divers have descended so far,
even in) the still water, are compa
ratively few. The coin is mostly in
g* od condition, though nearly all of
it is b)lack and heavily oxidized..
Some near the surface of the tank
was partially melted by the beat of
the burning steamer, and many of
the bexes are charred and broken.-..
Some of thme dollars are bright as
new when brought to the surface,
but they sp)eedily turn black when
ox posed to the air.
The Mayor of Des Moines, Iowa,
tendered his resignation last Mon
day, with the understanding that it
should take effect the next time he
ot drunk
Arlington.
The Arlington estate eover over
1,000 acres, and the Arlington House
from 1802 was the residence, until his
death, of George Washington Parke
Custis, the adopted son of Georgo
Washington, when his daughter, the
wife of General Robert E. Lee, occu
pied it till 1861. General Lee then
left it, with his family, to go South
and join the Confederacy. It was
soon after taken as the military head.
puarters of General McDowell, of the
United States army, and was hold
by the military till 1868, when it was
sold by the government, under the dift
reet tax act, for 665 of overdue taxes.
The money was tendered by Gen. Lee's
friends, but refused. It belonged to
Mrs. Lee and was not confiscated, as
is generally supposed. General Leo
never had any interest in it whatever.
and that of Mrs. Lee was only a lifo
estate, so at her death it reverted to
General Custis Leo, who brings this
suit of ejectment. In 1867 a national
cemetery was formally estublished by
the government upon 200 acres of the
land, in which there are buried nearly
16,000 soldiers, including a few hun
dred of the Confederate army. Over
the arch'of the carriage entrence is
this inscription: "Here rest 15,585 of
the 315,558 citizens who died in de
fence of their country from 1861 to
1865."
Bills were introduced in Congress
to pay Mrs. Lee while she was alivo
for the estate, but came to no vote.
Should General Lee win his suit the
government would undoubtedly pur
chase the property.-N. Y. World.
A BRAVE Boy.-Ou last Wednes
day night alout dark Azariah Mar.
tin or Miller was shot at Due West
by little Robbie Hood while robbing
a polato bank. The boy is ton or
twelve years ohd and deserves a gold
medal for his markmanship. before
firing at the negro be shot a pistol off
three or four times in the yard to
scare hin off but Azariali dug away
and filled hissack with plunder. The
gallant Robbie then took down his
tather's trnsty rifle, sliped into a
house near by and "took rest." The
first shot failed to hit the mark aQd
Azariah dug away. Then Robbie
drew a fine be ad and plugged the
rascal just under the right shioulder'
blade. lie left at once and the doc
tor's have been probing for the ballet
ever since but without finding it.
The chances are that Azariah will
never steal any more potatoes-lhe is
going to that othier Liber'ia which is
reserved for all who break the eighth
commandment. Azariah says that
he was shot by another negro while
he was on his wny home from Duo
West'and we wouldn'it be surprised if
this is not thc truth about the matter.
A bbeville Med ium.
The Newberry Herald is confirmed
in its belief that primary elections
presont the only proper way to mako
party nominations.
Evi'.lence sufiicient to implicate two
of the negroes now under arrest for
the Franklin murder, at Ninety-six,
is being gradually brought to light.
An old negro in Abbeville, going
home from town the other day, slight
ly intoxicated, succumbed to the dr'v,.
ing sleet and froze to death. This
should warn every Winter reveller to
either eschew the cup or else take
enough to keep up animal heat.
"Drink deep or touch not the flowing
bowl."
Senator Bruco (colored) ha~d his
horse and carriage stolen while on a
visit to Fred Douglass.
Canon B3eadon, of England, who is
100 years old, attributes his longevity
to avoiding brain work after dinner.
CONSTANTINOPLE, Jan. 1 4.--Karm ik
and Zever Pasha delegates appointed
to treat with the Grand Duke Nichol
as for armistice, started for Kezoulkf.
Governor Conner, of Maine, who
is about to enter upon his third term
ia not yet 39 years of nge.