Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, June 21, 1866, Image 1
iiewxs m. oeist, Proprietor. | |n Inbepmiitnt JfamHj fWospapcr: Jar t|c $rontotion of t{|t foMal, Social, Agricultural anb Commercial Interests of % Santfe.
VOLUME in. TORKYILLE, SOUTH CAROLINA, THURSDAY MORNING, JUNE 21, 1866. . . i;- NUMBEir&~
OVUB THE HIVEKOver
die Elver they beckon to me,
I?oved ones who've passed to the other side;
The gleam of their snowy robes I see,
Bat their voices are lost In the dashing tide.
There's one with ringlets of sannv gold,
And eyes the reflection of Heaven's own blue;
He crossed in the twilight gray and cold.
And the pale mist hid him from mortal view.
Wa saw not the angels who met him there,
The gate* of the City we could not see
Over the Elver, over the Elver,
My brother stands ready to welcome me.
Over the Elver the Boatman pale.
Carried another?the household pet;
Her bright curls waved In the gentle gale?
Darling Minnie, I see her yet!
She crossed on her boeom her dimpled bands,
And fearlessly entered the phantom bark;
We watched It slide from the silver sands.
Ami aD onr sunshine grew strangely dark.
We know she Is safe on the other side,
Where all the ransomed and ~ngels be;
Over the Elver, the mystic Elver,
My childhood's idols are waiting for me.
For none return from those quiet shares
Who cross with the Boatman cold and pale;
We bear the dip of the golden oars,
We catch a gleam of the snowy sail,
And lo, they have passed ftom our heart;
They cross the stream and are gone for aye!
we cannot Euouer wo opai u,
Tim bide* from our vision the facet of day;
We only know that their barki no more
Bhail safi with our* on life's stormy tea;
Yet somehow I bone on the unseen shore,
They watch and beckon and wait for me.
And I alt and think when the sunset's gold
la flashing river and hill and shore;
1 shall one clay stand by the water cold,
And list to the sound of the Boatman's oar;
1 shall watch for the gleam of his flapping sail,
I shall bear the boat as It gains the strand.
I shall pass from sight with the Boatman pale
To the better shore of the Spirit Land!
I shall know the loved who have gone before,
And joyfully sweet will the meeting be
When over the River, the peaceful River,
The Angel of Death shall carry me!
JU Original ffem
For the Yorkville Enquirer.
APEIL^F OOL.
BY J. FORREST GOWAN.
'The idea of Mary Henderson wearing a
balmoral akirtl' said the rich and beauti
ful Mildred Littleton, turning contemptuously
away from the open window.
'Mary Henderson!' said a young man beside
the scornful belle, lingering at the
onndnw and Inn Winer ndmirinclv ont nnon
wMavww ? ??o DV -r-"
the unoonscious object of their remarks.
'Did 70a say Mary Henderson ? Quite a
respectable name, at all events ; and, so far
as the balmoral io concerned, I am sore it
becomes her remarkably well.'
'Bat the idea of her wearing snch a
thing 1?a poor fisherman's daughter 1 What
has she to do with fashion, I should like to
know V
'I suppose she has an equal right to the
gratification of taste as her wealthier neighbors;
that is, so long as she does not dress
beyond the means of her father, who, by
the way, is a very worthy man.'
'You are acquainted with the family,
then !' said Mildred, sneering! y.
'Not exactly so,' said the youag man,
an almost imperceptible flush of anger
mantling his handsome face; 'but I consider
that as one of my misfortunes, Miss
Mildred. As I said before, Mr. Henderson
is an exoellent old man, whose honesty,
fair dealing and exemplary piety, is known
and honored by the entire oommonity?at
any rate, by all right-thinking people.
His daughter, Mary, is an amiable and
sweet girl, whose acts of kindness and disinterested
deeds of love have won for her,
in the contracted circle of Her friends and
acquaintances, imperishable respeot and the
most unfeigned esteem. Her devotion to
her poor blind mother!?was there ever
anything so touohingly beautiful as that?'
'Yes, yes,' said Mildied, in a tore of
impatience; <1 know all about that, and am
quite aware that she passes for one of the
saints and all that kind of thing; but in my
very humble opinion, women who take in
sewing and washing for a living, have no
business whatover with fashion. Indeed,
to my mind, it is quite inconceivable how
the can reoonoile her fondness for display,
with her high religious professions.'
'But, Miss Mildred,' said the yoang
man, 'you do not know that she is fond of
display, or that she attempts anything in
that direction, and, therefore, I must accuse
yoa of gross injastioe in thus speaking of
the young lady.'
'Young lady!' exclaimed Mildred, excitedly
fanning herself, and looking wonderingly
upon the young man. 'Why, Mr.
William Martin !?are you demented ?'
'In the general acceptation of that word,
I am not, Miss Mildred; but the remarks
which have escaped me in reference to a
a "if! TT J
JOQDg laaj 91 1U1B9 aouuenuu o ruiuuiug,
in so-called fashionable society, I very much
fear, would lead to the conclusion that I
was a fit subject for a lonatio asylum. I
have no objeotion to being called eccentric
or singular, however, so long as I am not '
deprived of the concionsness of being
just/
'Bat what is Mary Henderson to yon, Mr.
Martin, that you should think it worth while
to defend her so warmly V
<1 am not defending her, Miss Mildred,
lam simply protesting against the unkind and
uncharitable manner in which you allnded
to a very genteel and lovely woman, whom
you know nothing about. Bat allow me to
ask, what is there in the mere wearing of a
becoming and exceedingly plain balmoral,
to affect you thns?'
Why of oourse, if a washerwoman ap.
pears upon the streets with such an article j
of dreiS; it becomes unfashionable?even
vnhnr?for the voune ladies of the village
* ?Fa? ? w _
to be thus apparelled. Now we have all
bat jast added this caique aod picturesque
eostame to oar wardrobe, aod it really is
too provoking that we caDnot wear them
after all."
'We have V said Mr. Martin, inquiringly.
'Pray inform me who compose the anfortunate
we you 6peab of.'
'Why, Angeline Strasbary, Matilda
Wbetharstone, Lncinda Lacy, Julia Cramsfield,
Ellen Archer and a host of others/
'It is to be hoped that the host of others
are more worthy of consideration than the
five spoiled, giddy girls, which you have
named,' said Mr. Martin, thoughtfully.
'Deprive these vain, frail and glittering
beauties of the wealth and ease to which
they have been accustomed, and to which
alone they are indebted for their position
in society, and how much higher would
poor Mary Henderson stand in the eyes of
this oommunity ?'
'Well/ said Mildred, after a brief pause/
the young ladies whom I have named, and
the olass whom they represent, oould net
survive the change you speak of, for the
simple reason of a more refined and delioate
organization. They are in the only position
in whioh they oould possibly exist, and Mary
Henderson, and her olass, are in their legitimate
position also. Change is quite out
of the question?it would necessitate de
?1 ? ?^? ?:? t_
StraoiIOD ma ? euure bow ureauuu. xu
plain words, we are a different order of beings
altogether/
<1 do not understand you, Miss Mildred,'
said the young man.
'Place me at Mary Henderson's washtub,
for instance,' raid Mildred, 'and tell
me what would be the measure and extent
of my progress f Or, even supposing that
by the outlay of effort, I succeeded in ao
oomplisbing the task?what would be the
oonsequenoe? Certain illness and consequent
death! No such effects follow her
continual drudgery. Follow out this line of
thought: Take her reoreations, her past*
times, her pains and pleasures; take her
companions, associations, abode, food, raiment
and everything, which in its aggregate,
makes up her life?what oonoeivable
connection of similarity, what sympathy or
relationship, can possibly exist between our
minds, bodies or souls ?'
'That last word, Miss Mildred, not onlj
destroys yoar argument, bat is aaworthy
of you,' said Mr. Martin, taking his hat
from the stand, and preparing to leave.?
'There is relationship?aye ! indestructible
relationship?between oar soals and those
of oar poorer fellow beings, whose misfortune
it has been to be deprived of the advantages
and redoing appliances of wealth
and edaoation. Yoa have advanoed nothing
whatever which cannot be successfully
refuted ; and the difference of the oases alluded
to, exists only in theory and oan be
readily explained away. Good morning!'
'You are not angry with me, I trust,'
said Mildred, extending her white, jeweled
hand.
Not angry, Miss Mildred,' replied Mr.
Martin; 'but profoundly grieved and sadly
disappointed.'
Mr. William Martin, dear reader, was an
intelligent ohristian gentleman, in affluent
circumstances, and the junior partner in one
of the largest and wealthiest firms in G.?
Thn rnmftrkfthlfl bfiantv of Mildred Little
too bad attracted his attention and elicited
bis admiratioD; and having made ber acquaintance,
be had, for a week or so, been a
frequent visitor at her father's house. The
Littleton family enoouraged these visits, and
manifested the deepest interest in the growing
intimacy between their daughter and
the young merchant; but Mr. Martin, after
a few interviews with Mildred, had abandoned
all ideas of marriage with a woman
so utterly devoid of ohristiau principle, and
so completely wedded to fashion and folly.
His visits, therefore, were becoming few and
far between, much to the disappointment
of the old folks, and the uneasiness and annoyanoe
of the proud and beautiful Mildred
CHAPTER II.
'The miserable upstart 1' exolaimed Mildred,
ber eyes flashing with indignation and
anger. 'She looks like somebody to advei
* - A LI!. 5 1 a. k
use nerseii id ioe puonu juurutud bo b lcuuuer
or governess!'
'The wretched oreatnre !' exclaimed Miss
Lacy, applying her smelling salts to her
deleotable little nose:
'The imfamons impostor !' chimed in Miss
Strasbury, fanning herself furiously.
'The mean, insignificant little flirt!'
squeaked Miss Whetherstone, biting the
ends of her gloved fingers.
Now, it was not the advertisement, of itself,
that produced this flutter and burst of
indignation among these female fashionables
and jewelled belles?not at all. The long
list of references appended to the modest notioe,
was what produced the sensation and
gave birth to the expressions of dissatisfaction
and anger. Among the number, em
bracing the names of the most respeotable
portion of the oommunity, was the leading,
well known firm of Strockland, Belmont &
Martin The idea of the poor Mary Henderson
referring to such prominent citizens
for qualification and character, was something
which these young fashionables neither
understood nor approved of.
'The whole affair is perfectly transparent to
my mind,' said Ellen Archer. 'Mary Henderson
is something of a favorite among the
men, you know ; and it is to be presumed
that she has purchased the use of their
names for the oocasion.' ' With thris base
utteranoe, the hanghty girl, threw herself |
back in the rooking chair, and toyed with
the massive gold watch suspended to her
belt.
'No, no, Ellen 1' ezolaimed Miss Cramsfield,
a flush of virtuous indignation, mantling
her really very pretty faoe. 'Do not
speak thus ! Such insinuations are unber
coming and unjust, to say the best of it.'
Then, after a pause, she added : 'That poor
Mary is a favorite among the gentlemen, I
I am not prepared to deny; and, to be candid,
I pirls. f am afraid that ipaloUSV alone, has
been provocative of the unkind remarks,
which you have uttered against her. Julia's
gallant, actually proposed to Mary;
j Angeline's betrothed, abandoned her, almost
upon the eve of marriage, to make
love to Mary j and your beau, Ellen, by
your own confession, continually throws up
the virtues and excellencies of the fisherman's
daughter Even Mr. Martin, if Mildred's
statements are to be depended upon,
grew angry with her, for some thoughtless
remarks about Mary.'
<You do not mention a similar fact, in
connection with yonr old sweetheart,' said
Ellen, somewhat disoonoerted.
Ah !' replied Miss Cramsfield, with a
aigb, 'it is extremely unkind in you, to allude
to that unfortunate affair.'
Pray, what do you mean ?' asked Mildred.
'Why, did you never hear how Mr. Harper
broke off his engagement with Miss
Cramsfield ; proposed to Mary Henderson ;
was rejected, and committed suioide on account
of it V asked Ellen, in a tone of surprise
'Not a word of it,' said Mildred.
'Now, girls!' said Miss Cramsfield, beseeohingly.
'Let us drop the subjeot,' said Miss Strasbury,
'since the discussion of the melancholy
ooourrenoe, can only be productive of
unnecessary pain, to Julia.'
'Well, girls/ said Ellen Archer, in a
business-like tone of voioe, 'what is to be
done with this Mary Henderson V
'Reduce her to her original position,'
said Mildred, 'and teaoh her what is her
legitimate sphere.'
'Very good; bat how to aooomplish the
task, is the question V
'Expose her to ridionle, is my proposition,
as an initiatory step,' said Mildred.
<6at how is that to be done ?' asked Ellen.
'Leave that matter to me,' said Mildred.
'To night, at Madam La Gairrie's soiree,
we will see eaoh other again, and, by that
time, my plans will have been perfected.
Mind ! no more balmoral skirts for the present
1'
CHAPTER HI.
'Oh, mother!' said Mary Henderson, as
she sat beside her mother, looking thoughtfully
upon the floor, 'what oan possibly have
beoome of father and little Sammy, this terrible
night ? Hear ! the storm increases 1'
('Tie, indeed, a fearful night, my child,'
replied the old lady, raising her sightless
eyes toward heaven ; 'but the Lord will
provide, and we do wrong to entertain inordinate
anxiety, on your dear father's account.'
'But what can detain him so long at sea,
mother?'
'Very probably, fearing to venture, he put
in at Bellville, some eleven miles from this
place. If suoh is the case, it will take
several hours to walk that distance, as the
weather is so inolement. It is even probable
that he will abide with some of his
friends at Bellville, rather than undertake
? ? 4k IU*1a Qamrnn OA I
OU lUUg ? JUUlUOJf IfllU UHIIO tJBUiUij j uw
that, even if he does not make his appearance
daring the night, I shall not feel particularly
uneasy about him.'
'Have you known him to stop at Bellville,
before V asked Mary, uneasily.
Frequently, my dear,' replied the old
lady. ?But, oome !?don't worry yourself
about our absent ones, as though the good
Providenoe of our Heavenly Father were
limited to certain geographical lines or localities.
He is upon the dark and troubled
waters, my dear, as well as at the firesides
of the waiting, watching and longing ones.
At any rate?viewed simply in a philosophical
light?it is a good and blessed thing to
trust in a power greater than our own, with
the absolute oertainty, that that power is
based upon, and actuated by a principle of
universal love and good will. Tell me something
about your plans for the future. Do
you think it likely, that there is a probabil
ity of success, m Beounog either or the situations
whioh have been applied for V
<1 do not know, mother,' said Mary, 'and
yet, I thought it my duty to make an effort
in this direotion, as I find myself unable to
wash and sew any longer, particularly at
such low prices. Before the war, when
father was so much better off, you know how
generously he bad me educated, and how
much pride be manifested in my advancement.
Now, as the timeB are so bard, and
our means so limited, I do not Bee why I
should not put my hard-earned education
to some use. My poor bands are scratobed
and blistered with last months washing and
sewing, and my health, generally, is impaired;
and yet, after all our combined efforts,
we lack four dollars to make up our rent,
which is due to morrow. Now, could I sue
oeed in getting a small school, I am sure
that I oould do much better, with one half
the labor and toil.'
'Did you say that we laok four dollars
| towards making up the rent V asked the old
' lady, uneasily.
'Don't let that trouble you, mother.?
| Father may be able to make up the defiI
oienoy, by the sale of his fish, you know ;
! and, if he does not, why there is my baltnoj
ral. That would bring more than four dollars,
and I can very well dispense with it.
What oould father have been thinking of
to buy me such a piece of useless finery !'
<1 do not know, Mary, muoh about the
quality of the balmoral, but I am satisfied
about it being at least comfortable, and,
therefore, useful. Do not think of parting
with it, my love. I do not see that the
I oiroumstances or toe case jusmy ur ueiuauu
suob a sacrifice.'
j 'Saoriflce, mother!' said Mary. 'Believe
I me, that I fiqd it maoh more of a saorifioe
I to wear it. I am conscious of do desire,
; whatever, to oonform to the fashioos of the
day. I only wish to avoid singularity aDd
attraotive eccentricity of dress. Jf I know
anything at all about my heart, the ornament
of a meek and qaiet spirit, is what I
most oovet. With this, I coald be happy
in homespun; without this, I would be
restlesB, unsettled aDd unhappy, iD fine linen
and purple. To go about doing good ; to
be the humble minister of oomfortand good
I nhoAr tnall within the nnmnass of mv little
v"ww* " r ?
sphere; to gladden, encourage and energize
the desponding, foot-weary, sad and despairing,
is, I believe, the aim and object of
my life.'
And was this bat mere siokly, short-lived
and impulsive sentimentalism ? Verily no !
Nobody could look upon the beautiful faoe
of poor Mary Henderson, so earnestly eloquent
; nobody oould ostoh the soft light of
her deep blue eyes, so marvelously pure ;
nobody oould listen to the utterances of her
lips, or note the beautiful consistency of her
blameless christian life, and doubt the sincerity
of her heart, or question the origin
of its purity.
'A living epistle' indeed, illustrating, by
a thousand practical ways, all the graces
that make up the sum and substanoe of the
beautiful ohristian principle, as well as those
nameless and exquisite traits of the truly
refined and genteel lady. For miles around,
her name was known and loved for a succession
of unobtrusive, unostentatious deeds
r\? lrinrlnAan art/) InQA vMaK on/lao m/1 Kai>
VI AIUUUVOO HUVI IV'WJ MM1VU VUV?VH?V\a MV?
to the hearts of the recipients, and made
her hatnble name a blessing.
Prior to the breaking oat of the war, her
parents, as has been intimated, were in exceedingly
comfortable oiroamstances. Mr.
Henderson, the owner and captain of a popalar
steamer, was aecnmalating, by degrees,
qaite a respectable fortune, a goodly portion
of whioh was expended upon the education
of bis children, especially bis eldest
daughter, Mary. The steamer was captured
by the enemy soon after the opening of hostilities,
his money, like that of many others,
was invested in Confederate Bonds, and,
worse than all, his house laid in ashes, daring
a temporary absenoe.
. From the wreck of his fortune, be sno
oeeded in rescuing barely enough to pur
chase a email row-boat, and immediately
embarked upon the perils and hardships of
a fisher's life, for the support of his family^
Mary proved herself equal to the emergency,
and came gallantly and nobly
to the assistance of her father. By sewing
and washing, she generally managed to raise
enough to pay the monthly rent of the small
house, in whioh they resided, thos enabling
her father to lay by a mnoh larger portion
than he would have otherwise been able to
do. After a season, however, she found
that this excessive and nnnsnal toil was undermining
her health; so, after consulting
several of her friends, she ventured to advertise
her intention of beooming teaoher or
governess, and applied, through the village
journal for a situation in some school, or
family. She very readily seoured the names
of a number of influential citizens, as references
for oharaoter and capability, and
there cow appeared every prospeot of suocess.
******
The night passed away and the morning
dawned, but Mr. Henderson and his little
snn did tint rnfnrn Still Mm TTpnderann
was bopefal, and poor Mary's desponding
heart grew quiet ani composed in listening
to the words of cheer and encouragement
from the lips of tier blind mother. But as
the day grew older, and the shadows shorter,
a feeling of vague, undefined fear,
amounting almost to alarm, took possession
of their hearts and distracted their minds.
It was something so unusual for Mr. Henderson
to be so long from home. His very
last words, in leaving them the day previous,
were: 'Expeot me back at sunset,'
and lo! the sun had gone down'and another
bad arisen almost to its meridian, and
jet be bad not returned.
'Troubles never oome alone,' it has been
8aid; and Mary and her mother were
doomed to endure a still greater burden
upoo their sore and bleeding hearts. The
landlord called shortly after qooq for
his monthly rent. He was informed that
they were four dollars short, but would call
upon him and pay over the balance as soon as
Mr. Henderson returned. The landlord
unfeelingly replied, that, as bis tenant
might be several fathoms below the surface
of the sea, it was necessary that some security
be obtained for the payment of the
trifling balanoe. This, Mary promised to
do on the following day, provided her
father did not return earlier; and after a
few characteristic shrugs and impatient
exclamations, the landlord consented to reoiept
for the eleven dollars. Alas I no
where could the money be found. Pockets
were turned wrong side out, every drawer
carefully examined, bnt the money was
nowhere to be seen?it was lost, mislaid or
stolen.
The wrath and indignation of the landlord
knew no bounds. Tearing the reoeipt
into fragments and trampling upon it, be
seized his bat and said : 'Now, just beed
me! Mrs. Morgan wants this cottage and
will pay me twenty dollars in advance every
month, rather than not get it. To morrow
morning, at ten o'clock, I shall expeot you
at my office with the amount due me. If
you fail to settle by that time, I shall seize
every article of furniture beneath this roof, 1
i i r !i? *
ana?mina : l am positive :?turn you out
upon the street.'
It was all in vain that poor Mary spoke 1
of their oustomary promptness in meeting
the monthly demand; in vain that she
pointed to her poor blind mother and appealed
to his pity on her behalf; in vain
that she alluded to their distress and anxiety
on aooount of the protraoted absence of
Mr. Henderson. He was deaf to all this; '
cared nothing abont it. It was not the
value of the money that gave him the ;
least oonoern, he said; but the deception
and deliberate falsehood wbioh they had
resorted to, was what incensed and provoked
him. . 1
Away down in the depths of his sordid
heart he knew that to be a lie, as black as
the records of hell Money !?that very
missing, paltry, insignificant amount of
money?was the sole oause of his anger and
the reason of his wrath.
Hour after hour passed away, bringing
with them no tidings whatever of Mr. Henderson
and his little son. Night at last 1
enveloped the little oottage in her folds of 1
darkness, and the desolate, disappointed
and wretched inmates sat themselves down
in silence and gloom beside the opened
window that looked out upon the road.
Finally, however, with a sigh, expressive
of an otherwise inexpressibly grief, Mary
turned away and closed the window; and,
leading her mother gently to her accustomed
seat, opened the old family bible and
read aloud its great and inexhaustible eon
eolations. Let the scoffer sooff on; let the
Infidel ring oot his aooursed and idiotic
laagh, bat these poor, afflioted cottagers
found something in that old Bible, which
oomforted and consoled their hearts, and
sent them to their hamble beds, with a preoioas
hope singing in their bosoms. What
a triumph 1 What a preoieus, priceless
blessing it was to these hamble cottagers,
to look aoross the intermediate afflictions of
thA Anmtnot mnrrnw. and the aominer of anv
conceivable woe in the fatare yean, to the
grand compensation at the end?-the sure
"recompense of reward,"
"The far off lntereat of teara."
Can philosophy do this ?
CHAPTER IY.
A cloudless April morning, a bright,
balmy, beantifol day. So, at least, the gay
and happy of earth thought it, as they arose
from their downy beds and looked oat apon
the badding world and spotless, aznre
skies. Bat poor Mary Henderson looked
through a sad heart and brimming tears, apon
the loveliness of natur?, and the inner
shadow was too deep to disoover beauty anywhere.
Her father and little brother had not returned,
and terrible presentiments of evil
took possession|of her heart, even amidst her
endeavors toaocount for his unusual and protracted
absence. Her mother, who had
hitherto spoken so Hopefully and encouragingly
oo the subjeot, had become unusually
silent and sad, and sat in a corner of
the cottage with bowed bead and bands meekly
clasped upon her lap.
Poor Mary waa about to make an effort
to borrow the amount due for rent, from
some of her neighbors, and bad but just completed
ber bumble toilet, when young Littleton
walked unceremoniously into the
room ; and, without deigning to notice old
Mrs. Henderson, or bid good morning to
Mary, abruptly said:
<1 reckon you poor folks don't take the
paper, so as tLcre is something in this morning's
Times, which seems to refer to you,
sister Mildred insisted that I should bring
it over to your shanty and let you see it.'
Mary thought of her father and grew pale
as death
<Shail I read it for you ?' asked the boy.
?Yes,' she replied, staggering to a chair.
'Well, here goes!'
'If Miss Mary Henderson, formerly of Loulstown, will
coll at the office of Strockland, Belmont & Martin, she will
hear something greatly to her advantage.'
<A streak of good luck, certain added
the boy, as he folded the paper and plaoed
it in his pocket. 'That fiim is some pumpkins.
I can tell you!'
i A IIa_ ma tn Innlr at that, nanor. if vnn
"Xlliun Uiu IV ivvm ?w VM-. |r?|rwj ? j ?
please,' said Mary as the bo; turned to leave
the room.
(Wb;, you dont disbelieve me ! said the
boy, taking the paper from bis pooket and
ba iding it to Mary. 'Look on the fourth column
of the third page?there ! Now, I hope
you believe, I aint a liar 1'
'Dont speak in that manner, Mr. Littleton,'
said Mary, as she handed back the paper.
'Too know that I did not disbelieve
you, but-but?it seemed so odd, so unnatu
ral, you know, that my name should appear
in the public print, in connection with such
an influential and wealthy firm.'
The boy left the house without a reply.
'Did I not say that the Lord would provide
V said the old lady in a tone of grateful
triumph.
'But what can it mean, mother ?' asked
Mary, utterly at a loss to eocount for the
why and wherefore of the prominent card.
'What can tbey possibly have to oommunicate
to me !?and to my advantage, too !'
' 'Neve* mind that now, n y love; but put
on your bonnet and go there immediately.
You know what our landloii expects at ten
n'nlnnk And what will be 116 consequences
to os, if those expectations are not realized
God grant that all may torn oot
well 1 Go, my daughter, and see what the
Lord has in store for bis onwortby servants
You know, man's extremity is said to be
God's opportunity.'
<And my own experience has abundantly
satisfied me of the truth of the adage, dear
mother,' said Mary. 'But you remind me
of our cruel landlord's demands, and I must
hasten to make some effort to pay him the
rent, as soon as possible. It will never do
to be turned out upon the street. Oh,
mother! what could have become of our|
eleven dollars ? To think that I should have
lost or mislaid it, after all 1 I am quite sure j
that I had it in my hand when the landlord
oame in.'
'Weil, my love, don't fret about it,' said
the old lady. ''Twont do any good, at all
events. Put on your bonnet and go to the
big store at once.'
After arranging everything for the com
fort of her mother, Mary sallied forth on her
visit to the advertisers, with a restless, eager,
bat timid heart and au aoxious mind. A
thousand sarmises, imaginations and hopes,
flitted through her mind as she repeated to
herself and pondered the words : 'something
greatly to her advantage.' What coald
that something be ?
* * * * * *
'What oan I do for you, this morning?'
asked one of the olerks as Mary entered
the magnificent establishment of Strookland,
Belmont & Martin.
'Nothing, sir,' replied Mary, avoiding
the involuntary gaze of admiration. <1
wish to see Mr. Strookland, or one of the
firm, on private business."
'Indeed I Well, Mr. Strookland and !
Mr. Belmont have just stepped out, but the
junior partner is in the office. Wili he
Bait?'
Either of the three gentlemen oan far-1
niflh me with the information I desire,'uaid j
Mary, blushing and looking muoh confuted. I
'You will ploase conduct me to him, air.?
My time is limite*}.'
'Just step this way, then. Wait upon;
you iu one second, ladies! Charles, show
that gentleman our Spring stook of silks?
the English/
A few moments after, Alary stood before
Mr. WiUiam Martin, the handsome man, I
the finished gentleman, and the eonsoien-1
tioQS christian, introduced to the reader in
the first chapter. He aroee, confusedly, I
from hisohair, as the woman whose character
he so ardently admired, stood tremblingi
ly and blushingly before him.
'Miss Henderson, I believe!' said he,
handing her a chair.
'That is my name, sir/ said she, still
standing.
'What oan I do for you, Miss Hender
99
oUU I I
Mary started and looked up in surprise.!
'My olerk intimated that you wished to i
speak to me on some private business.?
What is its nature ?'
Mary sank into the obair.
'This is remarkably strange 1' said the
yonng merchant, observing Mary's agitated
, manner. ?Tell me, candidly, Miss Henderson,
if I oan be of any service to you ?'
'Ton advertised in the Timet this morning,
that you had something to my advantage
to oommunioate, and requested me to
oall at yonr office.'
*1 did ?' said Mr. Martin in a tone of bewilderment
and surprise.
'I do not know that the advertisement
was yours, personally,' said Mary, 'the name
of the firm was mentioned, entire.'
'Have you the paper with yon V
'No, sir.'
'Here, Mr. Alterman!' said the merchant,
partially opening the door of the counting
room, and addressing one of the clerks.?
'Step over to Harrison's and request the
loan of the Timet, a few moments.' Then,
resuming bis seat, he said to Mary : 'Possibly
the senior partners may know something
about the advertisement yon speak of.
I, certainly, know nothing abont it Come
in, Mr. Alterman ! Ah I yon have the paper,
eh ! Thank yon !'
The head olerk looked inquiringly upon
Mary a few moments, then npon Mr. Martin
; but failing to elicit the information he
sought, be quietly walked into the store.
In what part of the paper was the advertisement
you speak of?' asked Mr. Martin,
running his eye down the first and
second pages.
'Third page, sir,' said Maryj 'and about
the middle of the fourth column.'
'Third page ! let me see !?ah ! here it
is, sure enough 1'
Mr. Martin read the advertisement over
and over again; then, suddenly startiog
from his ohair, and olasping his hands behind
him, he walked up and down the
oounting room, in much agitation of spirits,
and with a countenance expressive of intense
indignation and displeasure.
<1 understand it now, very well!' be said,
resuming his seat, with a sigh. 'You have
been made the viotim of a heartless, atrooious
imposition'
'How, sir?' asked poor Mary, looking
earnestly up into the face of the speaker;
and trembling in every limb.
jTT r 4 u: tr j it.i i. J?
xoa iorget, iuiuo neuueraoa, luat lu-uay
is the firtt day of April, and
Poor Mary ! this was more, maoh more
than she expected to be called upon to endare;
and, as Mr. Martin thns gave the
death blow to the hopes and expectations
begotten by the advertisement, she bowed
her bead down opon her hands, and burst
into tears.
Mr. Strookland, at this moment, walked
into the offioe. In reply to bis look of inqairy
and surprise, Mr. Martin pointed out
the advertisement in the paper before him,
and whispered a few words in his ear.
'So you came here to hear something
greatly to your advantage, eh ?' said the
old gentleman, throwing the paper upon
the door and placiog his hand gently upon
Mary's shoulder. 'Well, dont ory! you
thall hear something to your advantage in
spite of the person or persons who have
thus cruelly made an April fool of you.'
Mary looked timidly up. Mr. Martin
was gone, and the benevolent, kind, happy
old faoe of the, senior partner looked en.
oouragingly down upon her.
?Your lather la a worthy old man and
Sods it tolerably bard to get along in these
hard times I have jast been informed,
that, during the heavy gale on last
night, he lost his boat and came very near
loosing his life also. Nay ! do not tremble
so. Himself and son are quite safe and
both at home by tbis time. Tell bim for
me that he shall have his choice between a
new boat, or the oaptainoy of a fine river
steamer, wbiob I expect to arrive to-morrow.'
<Oh I' exclaimed Mary, looking gratefully
np into his face, 'how shall I ever be able
to thank yon for this generosity ?'
'Don't attempt any sooh thing, ohild,'
said the old gentleman, making an ineffectual
effort to oonoeal his emotion. <1 should
be gratefnl to yoa for the pleasure this
opportunity affords me of doing an aot of
kindness to so deserving a family. Yon
advertise for a situation as teacher or governess,
I believe. Never mind about re- 1
plying. I saw the advertisement myself. 1
Now, nearly opposite my residence is a
snug little oottage whioh is unoooupied at 1
present. Your family are welcome to it
for a year or so, without rent. I have four ]
little grand children, whom I wish you to (
instruct in the rudiments of an English j
education, and for whioh I will remunerate j
? n_ mi amah
you uoerany. xney oan mtu? uuuio umi
to you, or you can come over to them, an
hour or so every day. 80, order your ad
vertisement to be stopped and charged to
me. And, now, is there anything more
that I oan do, which will be to your advantage
?'
A faint 'no sir 1' almost inaudible from |
emotion, and a warm pressure of Mr. Sfrok- j
land's band, was the only reply poor Mary 1
ventured to give. Her heart was too full 1
for any lengthened expression of gratitude, 1
and the old merchant understood it all very 1
well. As she arose to leave the office, i
Mr. Strookland gave au additional proof of 1
a thoughtful, disinterested and oonsiderate 1
charity and benevolenoe; by remarking: <
'The person, or persons, who OMSed this
advertisement to be inserted, and stlmaptid
thus to impose upon yon, an dusltte?
aware of your visit here tad use wailing
your appeeranee upon the street. Now,
my carriage is at the door, and 1 wUlbmp>
doot you to it, and so deport myaetf asto
disappoint, instead of gratifying, the heartless
oreatnres, who may be awaiting you eat*
side with jeers end laughter/
Oonld anything be more kind aadDoa*
sideratel
Arm in arm, Mr. Stroekhnd and May
left the offioe, passed through the slew, end
into tbe street. A group of girie,eaong
whom Mary reoogniied the proud and
beautiful Mildred Littleton, looked wonderingly
upon the oouple, with an air of bitter
disappointment; and so palpable Wil the
manifestation, that Mary bqpa to snap**
her of the authorship of tbe bqg(? advertisement,
and, taming, flashed npon the
party a triumphant smile.
* #?* * t *
<So they are to be married to nfyftl,' said
Ellen Archer, to a group of gaudlhr dMaed
female fashionables. 'How badly poor
Mildred must feel about it.'
'Why should the be so much affected
about it?' asked Miss Tinsel.
'Why, common report has it, that Mr.
Martin was, at one time, very food of Mildred.
and there seemed to be sttiy probability
of a union. It is known, at least,
that she loved him. Last April, Mildred
very foolishly eaused an advertisement to
appear in one of the public journals, informing
Mary Henderson that Stroeidand,
Belmont & Martin, wished to have an interview
with her at their ofiee, at wMeh
piaoe tney wooia impart imormauon greauy
to her advantage. Of oooxae, it ? loth
iog hot an April-fool arrangement, bit,
strange to say, out of that iafwif
wbioh moat have been exceedingly mortifying?grew
the present improved position
of her family, the suooese of her father end,
ultimately, her marriage with the junior
partner of the firm/
'Remarkable!?'pon my wordl' said Miss
Glitter, applying the smelling salts to her
delectable noee. 'How very romantio/
Very remarkable indeed 1 'said Ellen
Aroher,' and I have no doubt that poor
Mildred has learned a lesson, not soon to
be forgotten?never to trifle wijtb the misfortunes
of others.' .
The Army of Northern VirginiaThe
concluding paragraph in ah article
in the Orescent Monthly, entitled "General
Lee and his Campaigns," by J. Quitman
Moore, Esq., is the most grateful and tooeb|
ing tribute to the gallant Army of Northern
Virginia and its last most renowned
ohief that we have read:
"There stood the mournful remnants of
that onoe glorious army that had dipped its
conquering banners in the eritnsoo tide of
eight and twenty sanguinary battles, and
strewn its heroic slain from the feet of the
Pennsylvania mountains to the gates of its
capital eity j that had give* Maaasms to
Beauregard, and twined the feme of the
Seven Pines' battle in the lawei wreath of
Johnston ; that had oaosed the waters of
the Shenandoah eternally to mnrnrar the
f?rno nf Htnn A U7Q11 TanklAn an/1 ct?*l?K.
ing its right arm oat to the distant Weft,
had planted victory on the drooping banner
of Bragg; that had witnessed fear gigantic
campaigns, and through all their shiftings
and tragic scenes, and under alt difficulties
and dangers, had remained steadfast
and faithful to the last And after, having
witnessed the rising of the Southern constellations
as it loomed np brightly on tha
horizon of war, pursuing to its splendid ?enith
the fiery path of Mars, now behold,
not unmoved, its declining splendors going
down in the gloom of eternal night* And
be, its illostrions chief, whoee lofty plume
was ever its rallying point in battle, and
around whom its affeotioos warmly clustered,
now commended it for its past devo:a
? ai i
wuu, uuu uauc it buiou lurever. oiuwijr
and sadly be rode from that mournful laid,
and the cause that he foogbt for was be*
neath the foot of power. Few vara the eyes
that grew Dot moiat at witnessing the departure.
It waa the agony of a great cause
finding expression in the sublime soul of its
great defender. And though that oaose he
dead, yet will its memory continue to lira,
and ever honored will be those ilhulrioiis
names that sacrificed at its altars. And on
the scroll of fame no name among the list
of eminent worthies will ahine with a purer,
serener, or more resplendent light than
(hat of Bobert Edmund Lee. His fame is
monnmentaL His name will be plsoed
along-side those of the great captains of
history?Marlboro and Saxe, of Tiljy and
Engene; and as long as the fame of the
Southern straggle shall linger in tradition
and song, will his memory be oherished by
the descendants of the Southern races;
while his aharaoter will stand up in the twilight
of history like some old grand cathe
dral, lifting itself in imperishable beauty
above the objeots of earth, majeatio in its
vast proportions, awfal in its solemn stateli ess,
sablime in its severe simplicity."
What Womkn cam do.?Two yoang
ladies residing in Martinsburg, West Virginia,
vbo were left utterly destitute sue
homeless by reason of the ravages of thd
late war, have set themselves to work sinoe
the cessation of hostilities and nearly restored
their property to its normal ooodition.
One of tbem personally plowed and planted
many aores of land. Their neighbors boilt
them a log house to lire in and extemporised
a sort of barn.
Horses were loaned to than, and the
orirla vifh (hair nan hands r&iiud A nmfitft.
ble crop of corn, with the proceeds of
whioh the; are baying agricultural implements
at Philadelphia. In the place of the
log boose they have a comfortable dwelling
and substantial barn, and making such
improvements upon the property they own
is to render it more valuable to-day than
before the torob of oonflioting armies reduced
its building to aahee.