The weekly Union times. [volume] (Union C.H., South Carolina) 1871-1894, April 18, 1879, Image 1
VOL. X.?New Series. UNION C. H., SOUTH CAROLINA, APRIL 18, IS79. NUMBER 167
4
ANNIE MORTON. an intensity which ??'? - - --
BY AMY IIARNED.
"Thcro cotncs dear father at Inst!" exclaimed
Anuic Morton, spriuging from her
scat at an open window through which she
hud been earnestly looking a long flmo in
expectation of hi? arrival, while her sewing
rested unheeded upon her lap. "Oh, what
& long, long week this has been without
liim : dear fathor 1" Aud the rich blood
mautled on her cheek; her black eyes
eparkled, and the smile that parted her
ruby lips uiado her very beautiful, as she
stood for ono moment ere she sprang through
the casement and down the long avenue to
meet tho carriage which contained her father.
The mothdP looked after her daughter
with pride; but pressing her hand upon her
heart as if in paiu, sho sunk back upon her
scat,
"Ah ! what will sho do without mc, wild
wayward as she is ?" murmured Mrs. Mor,
i.mt i * * * "
iou. "xne worm nas sadness in store lor
theo I fear, my daughter; when I am gone,
who will shield theo, and care for thee, as
I have done ?"
A deep shade of sadness rested for a monieut
upon her face ; t ut it passed away ns
the mother bowed her head in prayer for
her passionate, wayward, but loving child.
She heard the party approaching the
house, heard the kiud voice of her husband
as ho answered tbo questions which Annie
poured upon him, aud with a sweet smile
Mrs. Morton roso to meet them. The excitement
of meeting her husband, after bis
temporary absence, brought a slight flush
upon her check, making her look better
than she really was; but it gladdened the
heart of Mr. Morton, for when bo left home
she was so ill as to cause him much alarm;
and as he folded his wife in his arms, he
said, tenderly?
"Whv. rnv flr>nr MrtPW T clinll lnnfTA
?J1 J ?
of'tener if my absence causes you to look so
well. I have not seen so handsome a woman
since I have been iu B j but I
must not forget?here is a young gentleman
waiting to be presonted to you : I know you
will welcome him."
Tears stood in Robert Dennyu's oyes.?
There was something in Mrs. Morton's face,
io her sweet, sad smile that reminded him
painfully of his mother, who?but a few
wcoks^previous?ho had seen laid in the
cold ground, hidden forever from his sight.
lie could scarcely command his voice to
speak. Mrs. Morton noticed his agitation,
and diviucd the cause of it. Sho extended
both hands to him, aud said?
"Robert Dcnnyn, I am glad to sec you
here. Your mother was the dearest friend
of my girlhood ; for the love of our early
days, a son of hers will ever be most dear
to me."
"Charlie will bo at home to-morrow,
Robert," interrupted Mr. Morton gaily,
anxious to give a less serious turn to the
conversation ; "but I do not intend to set
you down to your books yet awhile, my
boy ; you have studied too much already?
-i 4 r - . t
you nuuu resi. x wish io see you strong
and weil : exorcise will be the best thing
for you. There nro horses in the stable at
your service; and Annie, as wild a madcap
as over set foot in a saddle, ready to point
out the beauties of all the couutry round,
provided you can rend Miss London to her,
and listen to her chattering. What say
you, my little magpie, will you have this
young gentleman for your kuiglit-crruut ?
1 doubt not he will bo willing to do your
bidding.?
Annie replied merrily : supper was announced,
and in pleasant chat, the evening
passed rapidly away.
Charlie Morton came the next day; and
the warm grasp of his hand told to Robert
how much he sympathized with him in the
trials he had endured sinoe they left college.
No two persons could be more unlike
than Charlie Morton and Robert Denuyn.
Robert was tall, handsome, and but for the
gawherie of a boy unused to society, would
have been very graceful. His face was
porfeot; a little too thin perhaps. At times,
his large black eyes flashed and sparkled
with a brilliancy that lighted up his pale
faoe, otherwise?in its expression?too
grave ; and he surprised as well as interested
his companions, for when in conversation
ho would forget himsolf--?few youths
could be more irresistible.
Though brought up in a city, he had
been more secluded than bovs are ereneral
ly, therefore his manners needed that ease
and aelf-eonftdenoe wbioh is only acquired
by intercourse with society.
His time, during his vacations, had boon
passed ohiefly with his mother, whom he
idolised. As he approached manhood, he
^ .a . < a ? ?
saw mat moinor?to dear?lading slowly
* awaj. When the reality first burst upon
him that she was dying, Robert, was stunned
?paralysed beyond the power of aotion.
Was there co elixir of lite within hit
roach ? Alas I no.
The messenger of death oame gently,
peacefully to Mrs. Donnyn, and she died
blessing hor husband and eon for thoir an
wearied lore, their untiring devotion, whicb
bad soothed heV many years of suffering
For a long time, Robert refused to b<
w comforted j ho bad loved his mother wit!
UU UbUUl
thought. Life, indeed, to hiui seemed a
blank without her.
Just at tkia time, Mr. Morton paid his
old friend a visit. He was a uian of acknowledged
ability, and Mr. Dcnnyn knew
that in placing his son with hiui, he would
secure for him an able legal preceptor, as
well as a kind friend. Mr. Morton willingly
received him under his charge, while
llobort gladly accepted the offer of his father
which removed him, for a time, from
that home, now rendered painful by its
memories of tho dead. He camo to Mr.
Morton's with a heart saddened by the
scenes of sorrow, through which ho bad flo
recently passed; and the warm affoction
with which tho family greeted him, tnado
him feel at onoc that ho was not among
strangers.
Charlie and himself had long been
friends: in college they were regarded as a
wiraclo of brotherly attachment. No wonder?for
who cO'jld look upon tho clear,
open, manly brow of Charlie Morton, and
hear his ringing joyous laugh, and not love
him. Caro sal. linrti'lw 1T: *
_ ? - ?.^>a V?J upUU I1IUI. 1113 Step |
was quick and frco; his whole uiauuer
beaming with kindness and good-nature '
made him everywhere a welcome guest, and
his return home a cause for rejoicing. Ilis
father was very proud of him, for he had
couio off with flyiug colors at the fiual collegiate
examination which he had, with Robert
Dennyn, so rcccutly passed. The late
commencement Annio would have attended,
had not Mrs. Morton's unlooked for indisposition
detained her at homo. She bore
the disappointment with a graco which
proved sho was not ontirely selfish. She
was now wild with glee at the return of her
only brother, when she dearly loved.
The coming of Robert Dennyn was an
event which decidcd-the destiny of her life,
lie was just the sort of person to enchain
the affeCvion8 of a girl of seventeen. She
soou lonrned to watch for his coming; to
listen for his voice; to note the ever-varying
expression of his countenance with an eager
interest which none but those who have
loved can ever know.
Robert felt the power of her beauty. A
warm affection begau to spriug up in his
heart for her?but Anuic was pettish and
willful. Her passionate temper knew no
bounds?her violeuco repelled him many
times when ho felt most tenderly toward
her.
"She has no heart," ho would say ; and
struggled to overcome tho growing interest
ho felt in her.
When she would bo left alone after having
giveu veut to her temper, Anuie would
feel overwhelmed with shame and self-reproach
; but she was ever too proud to acknowcldgo
her faults, yet?although passionate
and willful?Annie's character had in
it tho olcmcuts of a noble nature, had thcro
beou some ono near her who could have
checked her wayward impulses, and taught
hor to subdue her proud will. She went
on heedlessl}*; "sowing tho wind" in her
tolly, and, alsa! indue time did sho not
"reap the whirlwind V
"Annie," said Mr. Morton day, "my
friend, Mr. Leslie, haspurohosedLiongbrook.
I congratulate you, for ho has two daughters
about your own ago. You will no longer
want society : You, too, Charlie, must ride
over with Annie to see them; and ltobcrt,
Mr. Leslie is also an old friend of your father
; for the sake of 'auld lang syno,' 1
should like you all to bo upon ploasant
terms of intimacy."
Flora and Mary Leslie, though sisters,
bore little resemblance to each other, either
iu person or character. Flora was the
more beautiful. Her fuco was of a style
rarely seen; pale as a marble statue and as
cold : not a tinge of color ever mantled her
cheeks. Her hair?black as night?she
i? ? i
nuiu put vuvt Dujuuiuijr UYUT HUT UTOW, QDO
folded in rioh braids on her classic head,
with a simplicity that defied ornament.?
Her eyes were not black, but of a deep,
durk blue, with long black lashes tlmt swept
over her cheeks, still paler from the contrast.
Iler figuro was tall and exquisitoly
moulded. Her beauty did not, however,
leave a pleasant impression. There was no
woman's gentleness, no warmth in her mannor;
one felt as in the presence of an iceberg.
Her sister, on tho contrary, seemed
like a little s>lph; and Robert Lounyn's
eyes rented so fondly upon her, as to cause
i Annie Morton's heart to sink withiu her.
Mary Leslie's hnir floated in ringlets
round her nock with a wild graoe; bcr
bright blue eyes gave so clear a light, and
i her laugh was so iunocent and happy, <h*t
I one felt oortain that no guilo was in her
heart.
Annio Morton and tho Leslies were daily
i Anmntninni ?n<l tKoir Iiaum nf
r , ' w.
i were orer, Charlie Morton and Robert Denuyn
always knew where to ficuFthe young
i girls. Bjright visions of the future rose up
I beforo them; and, was it strange that in the
, dreams of eaoh, the gontle, loving Mary Leai
lie walked, sideby side, through their life
with them 1 Both the young men loved her.
, The elder sister was too oola. Charlie said
, she laoked sincerity; and Robert, though
> be admired her, fek a chill in herpresonce,
i the cause of which he did not seek to divine.
? But, though tho young men loved besl
i to linger by tho sido of sweet Mary Leslie,
Annie Morton was more with Flora. Thero
was something in the boldness and baughtiucss
of Flora's manner that agreed with
her own impulsive temper, aud sho gradually
full more aud more uuder Flora's iuflueuce.
Mrs. Mortou watched with pain tho growing
intimacy of the young girls ; she felt
?with a mother's instinct?that Flora was
a dangerous companion for her daughter,
aud often urged her to be more with Mary.
"Why should I not choose my own
friendsAnnio would exclaim, when
Mrs. Morton remonstrated with her.?
"What do you know agaiust hor, mother?"
"Nothing, my child; bqti; know my;
daughter has nltdlred vorf, \tff much since
she has been so intimato will: her. Flora
Leslie is not pure aud guileless as her sister."
But tho mother's counsels wore unheeded
by Annio?she was unhappy. She began
almost to Aate Mary Leslie. The jealous
frieud was constantly whispering that, but
for Mary, Robert might be all her own.?
The thought tortured her night and day.
A dark, sullen cloud settled over her brow
?sho became more aud more unloving and
unlovely. Robert turned from her to
breathe tho calm atmosphere which surrounded
Mary?with a sigh, that ouc so
Deautuul could display so little tenderness.
Mrs. Mortou's health grew wore delicate,
and Aunio therefore more free to do as she
willed ; for Mr. Morton was too indulgent,
and Charlie too much occupied with his
own dreams, whioh wara approaching their
realization, to notico the chaogo that had
crept over Annie.
"I am going to B , to-morrow, Charlie,"
said Hubert, the day after his examination
; for tho threo years of study had
passed thus quickly away, bringing our
young friends over the threshold of manhood
and womauhood.
"Leave us so soon ! I did not expect this
Robert?^vliat shall I do without you ?"
"Surely, in the love of Mary Lealio you
will fiud furgclfulncss for all sorrow, or you
do not half deserve so priceless a treasure,"
said Robert, sadly.
"Mary Leslie!" Charlie stammered,
blushed ; then laughing off his coufusion,
said?"Yes, Robert, thcro will bo a wedding,
in the fall, at Longbroolc<?will you bo my
groomsman ? f should have told you this
long ago, but?" and ho blushed again, and
he blushed again, and again hesitated.
<.Qn? . ..... .1 11 T i
uuj UVS Uiuiu, > jr ucai Ii'iiun, J. miuh lb
all, and will come."
And he did know all. Only that morning
he bad gono to Mary Lcslio, and told
her of his love, aud how fondly he hoped it
was returned. Tears came in Mary's eyes
while she listened ; but she had plighted
her faith to another?long ago had she given
her heart to Charlie Morton; and, in
gentle accents she told him so, while her
luo eyes glistened as she saw the suffering
she caused. Robert acquitted her of all
blame.
"God bless you, Mary," said ho, and they
parted friends; and from thencoforth lie felt
sho must bo as a sister to him, when his
heart was overflowing with lor* toward her.
Tho autumn came. Tho wedding was
over. Robert Dcnnyn grasped the haud of
his friend with sincere and onrnest wishes
for his future happiness. How could he
but be happy with that guileless, loving
creature for his bride ; and Robert was ublo
to meet her, not only with calmness, but
without a wish that it should bo otherwise.
A new lovo was beginnin to dawn upon
him, and he only wondered that the spell
of Annio .Morton's loveliness had not been
upon him long before. In3tesd, us of old,
leaving her to pursue bet; walks and rides
alono, ho was now ever by her side. ^Annio
did not repulse him. A deep purpose
was in her heart; to bring this man to her
feet who had neglectod her in girlhood, and
then refuse him, bocaine her d ^termination;
and in this she was prompted by her subtle
friend.
Flora Tieslio saw the devotion of Robert
with a bitter heart. The pale student first
introduced to our readers had become a
man. His figure, then sharp aud angular,
was now tall and graceful. The light of
genius shone in his dark eye, and spread itself
over his face, now beautiful to look upon
in its manliness. His suooess, since his
examination, had been such as answered the
expectations of his friends, whb predicted
for him a brilliant career. Flora saw that
his wife would occuppy an enviable position
in society. Her quiot country home had
no charms for her. Ilur restless snirit
pined for the gay scones of ft oity life.?
llobert Dennyn's wife would have the position
for which she longed ; and to prevent
his marriage with Aunie Morton,and to win
him to horself, became the fixed purpose of
her soul.
She poured into the mind of Annie suspicions
of his trnth; told her of his love to
ner sister, and of tho soene to which sho
Karl hann a witnnM vitkmu ?
? .... . .. ? ntfuvn* ?i??M ?UUWIUU|;t3,
when he confessed his lovo to Mary. This
scene she exaggerated until Annie was maddened
by the thought that the only being
, he had ever loved was Mary Leslie ; ana
when Robert, during the merry bridal season,
told hor of the newborn lovq that had
> sprung up iu his heart for her, sho laughed
, his love to seorn, and drove him from her
with colu aail haughty words, though she
loved llobert with all the deep lovo of which
her heart was capablo.
Robert remained several weeks at Longbrook.
lie did not choose t/iat Annie
should see that her scornful rejection had
given hiui pain, and he unconsciously devoted
himself to Flora, who saw that her
triumph was approaching. When they
met, Annie could not avoid displaying agitation
; but sho struggled hard with her
feelings.
'Ho shall never know how much I have
loved him," the poor girl would say.
uTyou^Vomat^s ^^e^\TaTyou will pcrmic
him to see your wretchedness. This cold,
proud man is scarcely worth all this display
of affection."
Just at this time au event occurred which
prolougcd the visit of Robert. Mrs. Mcrinn
- 1-1 1 * -*- "
wm uivu. iwucit tuuiu uui ivuvu uis inoiius
iu their deep affliction. Poor Annie 1 her
grief was wild and ungovernable. She grew
pale and thin.; uever now, as of old, did the
light' flash in her eye, und the color
mount to her cheek.
How Robert's heart yenrned to fold her
in his arms aud soothe her agony. He determined
to make one last effort to win her
love ; but again he was repulsed. Iler evil
genius whispered that now he sought her in
compassion ; he had seen what Flora called
her weakness, and having won front her a
confession of her love, would despise her
for it.
Robert left her presence convinced that
she did not love him, that her conduct toward
hiui had been all coquetry. His first
acquantancc with her, when she was scarcely
more than a child, recurred to hint. He
said to himself as then, "She has no heart."
In this mood he rjturned to Longbrook.
Entering the drawing-room, the first thing
that attracted his attcntiou was Flora. She
was bcudiug over a tablo with a small miniature
opon before her. Her hands were
clasped, her whole features convulsed. As
he approached she started with well-feignc l
surprise, stammered a few words, and left
the room.
Robert was amazed?who could she love?
This pnl'' ornofiiM mli/\ I%#w1
?. w a v.vuiuiu, nuu iiau iicvur uciuiu
displayed the least sign of feeling ! From
her liiauner, ho iufcrrcd, thut that love,
whoever its object, must be hopeless. Ho
advanced to tho tabic, tho picturo upon
which her eyes had been riveted in such agonized
hopelessness was his own. Robert
staggered back into the scat which Flora
had just quilted. A cold dauip moisture
settled on his pale fo:ehead, now paler than
ever?tho coldness settled on his heart.
''Here," paid he, "have I wasted all the
love which I possessed upou ono incapable
of returning it, while this noble creature?
It shall uot be ! blic shall not suffer upon
my account! I will drive from uiy thoughts
tho idol I have cherished, and replace it by
tho image of this beautiful girl.
Without a moment's hesitation he addressed
a note to Flora, telling her that ho
had seen her agitation, and discovered the
cause of it; frankly ho admitted that he
had not loved her?"Rut," he wrote, "if you
will accept a heart that has not been all
yours, my me snail be spent in endeavoring
to make you happy,"
Was Hora Leslie happy ? Her end was
well-nigh accomplished. She saw herself
already mistress of a magnificent establishment,
surroundod with spleador, receiving
the homage due to her beauty; but happiness
had fled from her bosom, ?reet peace
from her pillow, for she felt that she had
trampled and crushed to the earth, the
hopes of a breaking heart.
Charlie Morton was delighted when he
learned the engagement. He hastened to
tell Annie of it.
"I once hoped to have seen you his bride,
Annie. I think he loved you; but if you
did not love him, of course, you wero right
not to accept him."
Annie listened calmly, and her good
U?sl 'L . i -
urutucr uuver turw mm. ne wn8 ine messenger
that brought t darkness and despair
to her soul. A new light broke upon her.
Could her friend have been treacherous ?
But it could not bo, Charlie must have been
mistaken. She recalled Robert's fond
words, his despair, when ho left her so short
a timo before.
"It cannot be," sho exclaimod ; "he loves
me still! 1 will not believe it 1 Even though
it be true, he shall not marry this girl! I
will tell him all!" She wrote a hurried,
passionate note to Robert, in which she
confessed how much she loved him ; thore
was no coldness now?all pride was gone?
merged in the wild thought that she might
yet recall him to her side.
Impationtly she waited for his answer,
which sho felt would be life or death to her.
Who shall tell the agony of Robert Dennyn
when he received the note, just aa he was
setting forth for his home in B.
"Once," he wrote in answer, "Annie
Morton knew that she might have asked
any thing of me, even life itself?now I am
I irrevocably bound to another."
Annie Morton received the noto; she
took it from the servant, as she stood trembling
beside that same wiudow where sho
sat when first presented to our readers; but
how unlike the bright, beautiful girl who
then sprang forth so gayly to meet her beloved
father, and the strange youth who was
to exort so great an influence upon her des
tiuy. Beautiful she was still, for twenty
summers had not yet passed over her head;
and beauty cannot leave those she has loved
so early?the gift will linger till many a
year of suffering has passed over the heads
of those upon whom she has bestowed tho
fairy talisman.
Annie read the note?a look of despair
stole over her face?her eyes gleamed wildly.
She crushed the note in her hand^hon1
tore it into a thousand pieces. For a momcut
she stood gazing out. A carriage
passed. Sho knew that Robert was in it?
She left the spot ffherO she had been standing,
passed slowly up the broad staircase to
her room, reached tho bed, aud conciousncss
left her. They found her there somo
hours after?but reason had left her. She
had sown tho wiud in her folly, she was
reaping the whirlwind iu her misery.
Robert Dennyn and Flora Lcslio wero
never married. Tho frantic words that fell
from poor Annio Morton's lips, during tho
first moments of her hopeless insanity, disclosed
Flora's treachery, aud the engagement
was broken.
Robert Dennyn went on bis way, loved,
honorixl rpsnpoipil nil "I"'
?J J W?v n 1VUV/IJ VIU"
age was his portion. Ho had too kind and
good a heart to becomo a misanthrope; but
the flowers of love in his heart were bruised
and crushed?they bloomed no more for
him.
AN OLD FARMER'sVuLTURK OF CORN.
Editor Southern Cultivator.?As you
rcpuest your patrons to give you the results
of experiments they make, I beg leave to
give you mine. For the past three years ?
I have entirely changed my manner of applying
manuro to corn, and havo also'
changed the implements with which I cultivate
my corn crop. So far as the prep?
aration and culture is concerned, I have
abandoned the shovel, twister and bulltongue,
and substituted therefor a light
two-horso Avery plough. In stiff lands
I uso two mules, in light land one, andbrcak
the land from three to fivo inches
deep. I never break my land but once and
when broken I use the rotary and smoothing
harrow until the clods arc pulverised,
and the tussocks of grass and weeds arc all'
'torn to pieces. The importance of thoroughly
pulverizing is not appreciated by our
farmers, although Jcthro Tull demonstrated
its wisdom upwards of a hundred years
ago. I then lay off my land with a small1
straight shovel?shallow. The corn is
dropped in this furrow, width governed by
the strength of the land. It is then covered
with the rotary harrow. If going oror tho
land once with tho harrow docs not fill the
furrow made by the straight shorcl I harrow
until tho land' is made level. When
the corn is dropped, thero is applied about
50 lbs (to the acre) of a commercial fertilizer,
mixed with throe times its' bulk of
vcgetablo matter gathered in the field.?
When the corn has 3 or 4 blades I go'
through it with the horse hoo or maltcso
cultivator, two furrows to tho row, which
cleans it thoroughly, and I do not go moro
than two inches deep. I endeavor to run'
through the corn after every rainy using
tho same implement. When the corn is
knee or waist high, as convenience suits,
I apply the bulk of my manure, which is ahandful
of acid phosphate, composted with
stable mauurc. This is the quantity I direct
to be applied, but my laborors find it1
more convenient to put half a handfnl, asthey
can then keep up with the plough
more easily. I care little whether the ma-'
nure is covered or uot, but I do like to get
a rain soon after. I then plough with a
sweep and continue with the sweep until*
the crop is laid by.
I did not plant my corn last year until'
I was done planting cotton, and the season
I was much more favorable to early than late
planting, yet all my neighbors' corn was
tired by drought, while mine remained
green. I am now in my eightieth year,
have boen planting forty-two years, yet I
never sat? a field of better upland corn,
and all who saw it would Bay it was the bost
field of corn in the oounty.
When the manure is put on top of the
ground, the first rain that falls carries all
the fertilizing matter into the ground,
whero the roots are near the surface. The
roots run mostly two, three or four inches,
except in dry time, and if manure is put
five inches below the surface, the roots sel*
aom Dad it.
From what I see in your and other papen,
I think labor here is about the nmi
as with you; but agrioulturure in the>
SoutA can never rise, so long ss the great
Juggernaut of protection runs over its
harbors and crushes them, for the benefit
of Northern looms, furnaces, Ac.
CnxsTKR.
Chester, S. C-, March, 6,1879.
"Aix Thinos Tkach a Moral Lisbon."?Rector?"Those
pigs of yours arc
in a fine condition, Jatrvis. ?Jar vis?"Yes,
aur, they be. Ah, sur, if we woe all on us
on'y as fit to dio as them are, we'd do
r /._ - ? tr >?
L inonircai jueraia.
The best religion is that which will make
a oolored man sit down content to est corn
bread for sopper, knowing at the same time
that a neighbor has fat ehiekeus and no dog
in his yard.?[JVrrc Orleans Picayune.
/