Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, November 02, 1870, Image 1
lewis m. prist, Proprietor.| > %n girinytiitot Jfkiittlg ffitfaipptr: jfor % |rgmflfent of t|t Ijofitfeal, gocial, &gritnfaral anir (Etmtmtmal |nftrofa of % S?4> ; vN^TB?MS?--$8^jrtBi^ l? APTMCg. ^
VOL. 17. YOEKVILLE. 8. C.. THURSDAY. NOVEMBER 2. 1871. " NO. 44.
v * , '::L,i;r:JM^A^^^
jto (Ngittfll frig? jitorg.
Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.
IHB OTENGWN,
\ TALE OF A SEPTUAGENARIAN.
"Truth is stranger than fiction," is a trite
sentence no one gainsays, for the recollections
of almost every individual recall instances
verifying it The story I propose to relate is
an exemplification of its declaration, and .
though the leading incidents are familiar to a !
few whose memory will reach as far back into I
the dim vista of the past as mine, to the young,
generally, it will be new, and from the familiarity
of the several localities, as well as the
romantic character of its events, I hope the
old man's ow'er true tale may prove interesting.
My stories are all of the long ago. The
yonng naturally peer forward?the old look
CHAPTER I.
i^Tihe long; verandah which i
faced the ocean, and watched a ship sailing
into the harbor. The beauty of the sea?
each wave painted by the rays of the setting
sun with gold and purple crest?the ship in
all her majesty of motion, walking the waters
as if inspired by the bounding hearts crowding
her deck, the unwmfMcf quiet of the hour, each
were to her as if they were not?though forth
on all she gazed. Her face was one of marked
character.; The forty years which had rolled
over her head had left not one grey hair in
their train, and but few deepened lines on her
face to tell of their passage. Still, her appear
anee was not uncommonly youthful for her
* ' years; a good state of p&sertiation rather
marking her general aspect, indicating ber*8
had been a life shielded from chrking care,
though her close black dress told she had not
been exempt from nature's law,
"That man was uiade to mourn."
As she stood, tears unbidden coming to her
eyes and, triokling unheeded down her cheeks,
a young girl, clad, too, in deep mourning,
came out on the verandah and gained her
? * -H A il .
side unnoticed. * or a moment me younger
lady watched the elder one; then putting her
arm around her waist and leaning her head on ,
the elder's shoulder, the girl said, I
"Mother, dear mother!"
Then irrepressible sobe ohoked her utterance.
For a short time, the mother, too,
could not speak ; but soon calmning her emo-'
tion, she essayed to soothe her daughter.
"Dtinna greet sae lassie, sair wad it grieve
your father to find bis hinnie thus." ,
It was only when strongly moved, Mrs.
Campbell used her mother tongue, and her
child seemed more overcome by the touching
. vernacular.
"Oh! mother, mother," she sobbed, "this is
the ship which would have brought them 1
I so hung on the thought of my brothers
coming, and longed for their companionship."
Solemnly .the mother answered, "He that
ruleth' the winds and the waves doeth all
things well! bhail we question nis going ?.
_forth coining in ? JLet us, rather like Afc,#
ran, bold our peace." (
Then .'gently and Vesolutely, she withdrew ?
her fofrm from the support of the girl, and
led her to an inner apartment.
Mrs. Campbell was. a Scotch woman. At
?the age of eighteen she first married in Edinburg,
to Henry McArthur,. He was a Scotch*
. man, but /or many years had been a planter j
;in the West Indies. The enervating climate
* had undermined his health, and giving up the
management of his estates to able agents, he
*'r returned to his native land to remain permagently.
Middle age was upon him, and he
- was still unmarried; but. soon after his arrival
in Scotland, he met Margaret Alexander.
She was of a beautiful countenance and good
understanding. He thought life's journey
would be brightened by snch a help-meet, and
wooed and won the fair woman.
In six years, three children were born to
Henry and Margaret McArthur?Henry, Alexander
and Henrietta. Before the infant
daughter could lisp her father's name, he was
taken by death from his ftmily.
Henrietta McArthur was eleven years old
when Jamie Cam bell induced her mother 'to
change her widowed state. He, too, was
Bcotch?a bachelor of forty, and for fifteen
years a resident of Charleston, South Carolina,
and one of her most successful importing
merchants,
He, with a younger brother?Robert Cambell?had
gone over to South Carolina together,
and together begun business in her
"Queen oitybut it was not long till the latter
became acquainted with a young lady
from the interior, whose charms, sentimental
and substantial, were very desirable. He was
fortunate enough to ' succeed in pleasing her
fancy, add,marrying her, retired from mercantile
life to reside on the plantation in Williamsburg
District he had acquired by his
wife. The elder brother worked on, associating
with him, in his brother's stead, a canny
countryman?Mr. Gower; but he was very
lonely,,"in the whole city full," after his broth- \
er went from him* However, fortune was j
p, kind, his business flourished, and he rapidly 1
amassed wealth. Then he went back home?
'as his affectionate heart still called Scotia?to
? find him a consort.
^"TrrfTif ^rnrrriiin nature and warm heart of
w ? Jamie Cambell, the three children of Mrs. McArthur
were additional charms to her beauty
and sense, and- when he found her intention?
after she consented to marry him?was to
leave her two sons in Scotland till the completion
of their education, he inveighed strenuously
against the plan, feeling real disappointment
in being deprived of a father's care over the
lads. However, he was forced to recognize
the soundness of their mother's judgment, in
placing them where opportunities were so superior
to those to be found in the United
States, and solaced himself by devoting hi Intel
f to Henrietta. He quickly won her affection,
and from the day he called her mother
I his wire, he loved the little daughter with truly
a lather's heart.
' Friends and instructors wrote frequent reports
to Mrs. Cambell?after she crossed the
ocean?of her sons, and all combined in pro
nmiucing them youths of great promise.
When the young McArthurs graduated
their first thought was to hasten to the tender
4]y loved mother and sister, so long separatee
Vfron them. The mother curbed this natura
) Impulse, aud desired that their attentioi
should first be given to their West India prop
"fifty; and before coming to Charleston the;
should go to Jamaica, see their agents, exam
ine accounts, condition of the estates, aud as
sume possession. Beiug guided by thei
L
mother's advice, Henry and Alexander Mc- ?
Arthur came on to the West Indies, and while t
necessarily detained there, both fell victims of s
the yellow fever. This ship, now sailing into j
port, was the one in which they had proposed t
to come; and only the* mail-ship before, had c
brought to their family the news of their de- a
1 mise. The sight of the vessel opened anew t
the fresh wounds, still bleeding for their loss,
in the hearts which, for years, had looked for- \
ward to an hour, cruel Time, at last, revealed t
was never to be. a
Mrs. Cambell, with an inherent sternness g
imbibed with a mother's milk from a race of d
Covenanters, had stifled the weakness of her v
mother heart?which often yearned for the t]
presence of her sons and kept them from her v
seven years?never even faltering, and at last a
checking their hastening desires, inculcated a
the homely doctrine of "business before pleas- s'
ure." Now, in her bereavement, she uttered 1
do useless regret, felt no reproach of conscience
for her course, and would again have enacted
the same rigid role. Henrietta McArthur's
mature was cast in a softer mould; Youth
and love had developed for her a tender fa- w
cile temper. Her grief for her brothers' loss tl
was very intense; so violent in its expression w
it seemed beyond her power to control it it
The exhibition of her distress caused her step- li
father much pain. For his sake, her mother g
exhorted her, continually, to overcome herself ci
and be more calm. Even this strong incentive
failed to enable her to quell the demon- k
strations of her sorrow. ti
Two hours after the arrival of the vessel
noticed at the first of this chapter, the wife tl
and daughter awaited Mr. Cambell's coming, b
The room in which the ladies sat gave evi- w
dence that Mrs. Cambell had not left on the
other side of the sea, her old world love of el- t\
egance. The walls of the room were hung 01
with curious, ancient tapestry, representing
scenes from the Old Testament. The stern a
choice of subjects, such as Moses slaying the
Egyptian; the overthrow of Pharaoh and hie J
Host in the Red Sea; the slaying of Jezebel's
Prophets, &c., made it easy to imagine the
work was woven by the fingers of some grand &
dhrae nurtured in the days of a Olaverhouse.
The chairs were large, cushioned with blue hi
damask, wrought in with threads of gold; B
the wood-work, white And highly gilded in
patterns of vine and grape; the tables were of f*
the same material, claw-footed and topped T
with j>lack marble, the strong contrast not al
being unpleasant in effect. The mantel was d<
also black marble."On it were burning four 80
wax candles, set m massive silver candlesticks.
On one side of the room was a harp- ^
Bichord, with a blue damask cover to match h"
the cushioning of the chairs. This, now, Ul
seemed to be the subject of discussion. U(
"Don't ask me, mother! How can I play? h<
Every tune has been practiced for my broth- fc
era?the whole burden of my thought, as I hi
played, being how the air would please them." P1
"Henrietta, to give up, to this extent, to w
our sorrow, is worse than useless?it is posi- w
tively wrong. The dead ara not hleesed by M
it?the living darkened. you must remem- aI
ber other* beside youraelf. yYoer "m
i arer to/you than your brokers were. Tbe<^
m Qtiment toward him is realtor them ideal.' w'
He, too, dwelt most fondly on their coming, n(
planning much happiness for them and us. D(
Instead of striving to fill the place of more
children to him, and cheering the heart which d<
leans on you to soothe its declining years, you n<
augment his trouble by yourgloemiaess? It ^
is not right, and I cannot encourage you in
such a course, by undue sympathy or caresses."
y(
"A shadow seems, mother, to rest on me, na
from which I cannot escape?as if this sorrow T
is but the harbinger of more."
"It is your first affliction, my child ; and N
you have not struggled against its pressure, hi
but unresistingly been borne down by its of
weight. Make an effort to resnme your usual
daily duties, find again interest in them, and &
think of others. Afflictions were not meant w
to make us selfish. We must learn to sorrow ti
with moderation." ?
Th? thought of her father was a lever to a
Henrietta. She exerted herself to overcome
the grief she had indulged. Her first step y
was to play the harpsichord, and she went ?
forward to try if her strength would be suffi- is
cient to play for him, and not betray her sur- is
charged heart by some unfcontrollable burst of b
grief. She opened the harpsichord, and her &
heart seemed comforted by the first chords is
her fingers woke, as if some friend's voice
spoke to her through the simple tones. She ?
played some little airs, then sang sweetly the tl
ballad of "Allan Water," not perceiving her if
father's entrance, on tip-toe, till she concluded *
the song. The gratified look with which he b
met her first glance, repaid her for her effort, v
even had not the pleasure she herself had r
m if A DA t
1UUUU Alt IV} UUliV. OV?
"Any letters, father ?" she asked, forgetting, a
for a moment, none of especial interest to her
were now to come. a
"Several for myself relating to the affairs of *
the firm, and two for your mother?business 1:
letters I judged from their superscription. a
Did not your uncle Robin hring I
"Uncle Robert! Is He in town ?" *
I "Yes; I thought to have found him already 1
here. I had an invoice to look over and t
: would not detain him, for what was of inter- ^
est to me, was this time dull to him. Some 1
j meeting with acquaintances has caused his 1
tarrying. We will wait tea on him. He will T
be in presently. Now, what can you sing me '
to pass the time till he comes ?"
She knew what song he best loved, but knew, '
out of tenderness toward her, he would not 1
ask it. It was one of the batch of new songs i
he had sent to Scotland for. Her brothers
had chosen them; but she was not longer to
allow his thought for her to be greater than
hers for him.
With great purity of style and expression,
she sang "Auld Lang Syne." He spoke no
| word at its close; but laid his hand on her
blonde head, as if in blessing. Both felt too
much to speak. A ring at the door was a
' relief to the three mute occupants of the parlor,
for in a deep reverie Mrs. Cambell sat,
i j looking sadly on two portraits which hung
. opposite, much alike in all attributes, and re-1
: mindiug her ever, by the semblance of their
counterfeit presentments of the father of her
- sons, the husband of her youth. The por1
traits had been painted only a year before, by
1 a fine Edinburg artist, and were, to her, worth
i their weight in gold.
- j A moment after the ring, a servant ushered
f in Mr. Robert Cambell. He was greeted cori
dially by his sister-in-law and her daughter,
(- and affectionate enquiries made about his
r wife, whom Henrietta spoke of as "dear aunt
Sue." After he had taken a seat, his brother
isked for the mail, and gave to his wife from
truong the matter, two letters. One bore the
>ost-mark of Jamaica?the other that of Edinrorg.
A glance told her they were business
fomraunicationB, and she laid them aside till
iter tea, now ready to be served, as it had i
teen delayed for Mr. Robert Cambell's coming.
A silver tea tray, with a rare old china serice
on it, was placed before the mistress of 1
he mansion on a small tea-table, before which
he sat. A brass tea-kettle, burnished like 1
old, steamed with the boiling water ready to '
raw the tea, which the lady took out of a sil- ;
er caddy, put in a pot of the same metal, and {
ben dispensed each cup with a stately grace 4
rhich marked her smaUeetT action. Before '
ny one had finished their first cup, there was 4
ting at the door. The servant who auwered
the. bell brought in the name of "Mr. *
aylor, of Georgetown." (
"Ask him in." {
"To this room, madam 7"
"Ye*? >... .... ' > - 1
A moment after, Mr. Taytor entered." It -i
as the firtt.meetiug with their friend since 1
leir recenthe^vy affliction, and much feeling
as awakened, the younger Mr. C&mbell be- 1
ig alone unmoved. Mrs. Cambell first re- a
eved the silence, which succeeded the sad j
reeling, by asking the new comer to have a t
up of tea. 1
"No, I thank you, madam. I thought I 1
new your hours well enough, not to have in- i
uded." , ' e
"Your presence is never an intrusion," said t
le master of the house. "We would have t
sen done tea, but our Scotch punctuality 1
aited on Robin." s
The tea things removed, the servant placed
vo of the candle-sticks, with their wax lights, (
i the marble centre-table. . , t
"Wilfye bide here, Robin, to read, oi; tak a
pipe wi it in the atoody." j
"The latter, I believe; but ye. need not comej s
amie." f
"No, no lad, I dinna see ye sae often, but I f
>ng to see mair. ' I keii na ither, how to s
ang off from ye Taylor 1"
"Like his wife, but more frequently with
im than her. Mr. Campbell used his brogue.
te always called his younger brother Robin,
lough now a stalwart man?a great contrast <3
i the dapper little merchant's small stature, i
he pet diminutive came always to his lips, 1
ad toward "Robin" he felt a woman's ten- o
2rne88. Robert Cambell had a tall, fine per- t
m, good features, fair complexion and sandy b
icks, and looked about ten years younger
tan in reality he was. His manners were g
aished, and his conversational powers insin- c
iting. He sang a fine song,, danced .a min- }
it or hornpipe with equal skill, ^ept blood- 'q
arees, hounds and boats, and enjoyed the fair fc
irtune he got by his wife thoroughly... She, e
is wife, was one of the bestbf women -h quiet, g
retty, excellent sense apd good principles, 1
ith but one weakness?an overweening ad- f
iration of her husband. His wife aud his i'
rotherhad been suffioient, by their devotion a
id pride to and in him, to have fostered a
ueli of conceitjhapds:
lowed in h?-gen>M?l dutnuiubr; and IHF T
hole thought being his pleasure, one could 0
>t tell whether he was selfish or not, for they n
iver allowed him to be unselfish. h
The brothers did not appear to have gone g
iwn to read, for the packages of foreign h
5ws were laid aside unopened. They lit
leir pipes and sat down in fhe luxurious arm e
mire abounding in the cosy apartment. i<
-?- < xL. n
"Henrietta is a perrecc Deauiy, ?mu mc ?
hunger brother. "It's a shame, Jamie, to e
tarry her to so cadaverous a specimen as this c
aylor." c
"Who talks of Henrietta marryipg him. li
rot that I know a better youth, but I would
e loth to tee my singing bird go into any e
ther cage than mine."
"She is no longer a child, Jamie, and will 1
>on have suitors enough in the city. Her
ealth?now the boys are dead?would at- r
act plenty of them ; but her face anu form, s
re enough for any man of taste had she not f
penny."
"Her sweet temper and loving heart are be- (
ond her personal attractions. Her mother t
lys her only fault is her timidity. To me it ?
i an additional charm. Margaret fears she t
i unfitted, by her gentleness, for fighting life's 1
attles; but while her old father's head is ?
bove the ground, he will see no hair of her's c
i hurt." i
Their pipes were smoked out, and Mr. Rob- {
rt Cambell proposed they should return to i
tie drawing-room. He had scarcely entered 1
until he asked of Henrietta a song. She
rould have refused, had it been any one else, 1
ut it was habitual with his elder brother and
rife never to gainsay request of his, and Hen- ;
ietta had fallen into their ways. Unhesita- '
ingly, therefore, she arose and went to the pi?
no.
A f urn rvi* Hiroo nt<w>? thfirfl WAS a naUflO. I 1
ililCl mu v* vutw ._
,nd Mr. Taylor said good night and left,
le was a pale, slight mau, his face not wantug
la expression if it was in^color; hut pos- ?j
essing no beauty, exceptiug^eep -blue ,ey$a..,
teaming with purity and ien^erness, which
night have ioofced forth fiTO^RJsrof a wonan.
Henrietta's face had brightened during
he evening, and her pallid cheeks now glowed
vith some of their natural color. Her father?
ve cannot write him step-father, for no own
parent could even have surpassed him in derotion?had
it not been for the late remark of
ais brother, would have innocently said,
'Taylor's visit had done the lassie-good," but
he saw there was truth in "Robins'j^suspicions
* . ? *- ? llAllOO
as to Taylor's object m coming ??- "?p? llUUOVs, |
and felt a jealous pang to see another seeking
to win away his "bairn."
After Taylor'B departure, Mr*. Cambell
opened her letters. The content* brought a
troubled look to her face. After a second
perusal of each, she handed both to her husband.
His expression seemed a reflection of
hers. When lie finished reading them, she
asked:
"Do you see any alternative to keep me
from having to go?" .
"Not unless I could go myself; and Gower's
absence makes my leaving Charleston,
now, an impossibility."
"Yes, I know that."
"What is it?" enquired Mr. Robert Cambell.
"These letters a -e from my business men,
and both relate to the estates of Alexander
and Henry. They say the*affairs have been
I so long in the hands of agents, it is now imi
peratively necessary one of the legatees
' should be present at the settlement. I will
I have to go to Jamaica, and, probably, to Edin!
burg."
A few remarks passed on either side. The
urgency of the case was undeniable, and the1
conclusion of the whole was, that the next
vessel sailing for the West Indies mqst take
on board of her Mrs. CambeU.
"You will not leave Henrietta here during
the summer season?" asked Mr..Robert Cam*
bell. _
"Of CQursc^she will remain'" with ipe," replied
the elder Mr. Cambell.
"You had better send her up to my house
to stay with Sue. I'm so much ??m hqere, I'
would be glad to have her thfire^as company
for Sue in my absence. A aummer in the
country will do her good, and she- will find it
lull here with ijamie, though such an heiress.
will have plenty of beaux to drive away Jriue
levils." '
The allusion to the fortune was a harsh
;ruth to the ears and understanding of the fillers?a
wound to the heart of the young girl.
L'ambell added, after a pause,
"I was detained this evening by meeting old
Dr. Ramsey, and, in the course of
rersationi(he prophesied this ^jfemer wouro
)e a yellow fever season."
The ladies both started. To them, Dr.
Ramsey's prophecies were veiy nearly the
lame as a fiat, so highly did they esteem his
udgment. The brow, too, of the elder gen-,
ileman darkened.. The skilfully introduced
eaven was beginning to> work', conversatioi
anguished, the ladies arose and bade goo4light,
the guest refused his. brother's ofcbf
i pipe or night cap, and also retired^ leaving
he good merchant to an houris seriops refievjion
ere he rang for the servants to (lose the
louse and extinguish the lamps, before himelf
seeking his bed.
* Next*inoming, at breakfast/.Mr. Robert
^ambell was not surjprisecf, though gratifiSa
o learn, a night's reflection had iaused the
idoption of his plan, fqr ifenri&taj-dyHfeP
>arents; and his sister-in-law annoutcedj &
oon as ifikhereelf sailed, Henrietta ind her
ather w?y;0 up to Williamsbui^?the
orraer ??H?ain (here until her holher
hould retmPto Carolina. ^ CHAPTER
II. W
Sunshine and showers had marked the April
lay, but Phoebus had at last overcome nand
twos-a bright beantiful sunset on jrjubh
lenrietta McArthur stood gazing. She was
ut on a narrow porch which fbrmed the en- ;
ranee of thdifouse, and-looked wearily onfthe
inking tttf. , w? ?
A sad change seemed to have fallen on >he
;irl. She was pale, almost haggard, Di ark
ircles were marked a roiled her eyei,: and'in
hem there was a scared, res^ess/helpleSB loaki
[uite pitiful. The sound df agproac^ng
lOrees, woke her from her rerena^iHie trk-rid,">nd
coming up*$e avenue,-ne*rlyai the
ate, she descried Mr. Taylor, or Georgetown.',
"or one moment, a look ofjqf lighted her
soe?14hen faded away, A .gadder helplessness,
t seemed, by contrast, perhaps^ than ttfft>re
is horse's neck, Jve went swiftly through the j
ate-way, and Tan ap the steps saying, Almost
efore he shook hands;' V
"Are you surprised tefaee rae, Miss Henritta?
I came to Charleston, not havifcg an
lea of your absence; and your father told
ie you were domiciled here urfcl.your Tnothr's
return. He kindly gave-ine leave to
x- :?.1W
ome on and see you, ana w mourn iubb *?? ome,
made'me the bearer of youf mother's
ast letter, deceived by last mail." ^ 1
She took the missive neryotaly and-asked
agerly,
"When is father corner . 'The*
y, "how long will you
Iti his pleasure at raejft&g yoong
nan, at the moment;'did not ffijjm.to'iiiftB-'Gki
trangeness of her manner, or her altered ap earance,
and answered herr plgasantly^
"Mr. Cambell told
jower is away from home fcfl^nrtihg so bt^fy,
he affairs^ofrthtfli?in
md it will be-im^osslble for ^H^toiCbntf up
o see yon before the Fall1; but* said foh^dst
>e a good girl, mind your undemand aunt
ind not get homesick. I can onTfcsfeyTtifl
lay after to-morrow, for when I le&jjhomk I
jever dreamed of coming here, apd if^I doinot
jet home the day .appointed; raothdr will lim.'
nagine all manner of horrible^ecidents Have
aefallen me." LC ~T""
Henrietta McArthur, iBWcgaaedsperi^
buret into a nervous fit of tears. Jxn?t t^en,
Mr. Robert CambeHHrvoice was heard in&e
yard, and they saw him coming- toward ;||ftf
ioor. She hastily/retreatedj leaving fifti
Xaylor in a stat^ of distressed ^ndeh^f|
was tea-time when- be again tify htor. Kofi
he closely markecf the sorrowfitl dhange
had come over the-girl. With his sdsifrohfns
- - v r * - Tl .towii.
aroused, he narrowly watcnoa jsks. . auobcv
Cambell. Sh^-too, lbdkad itfd'$ttt WrinoWi,
and in her manner toward|
ed to disceYnji greater tender^ thanfl
bad ever noted before, Mr. CaoweU waM jgj
same pleasant, gay. gentleman, and .warned
to enjoy the visit of Mr. ^aylor exceeding,
paying bnt little attention, beyond the oqurtesies
of the table, to either jjjis Wife or Map
McArthur. The latter retired .early, ejl
Taylor found no opportunity for any pri^G
conversation with her, and the few rema^E
he addressed to her were answered in mqn?
syllables.
The next day he tried in vaip to see herf|hi
herself, determined to ask her why she waWffe
unhappy. How unspeakably he longed k
tell her of his love, and strive with assurance?
of his affection to win a return and her con
fidence; bat love was a tabooed subject be
tween them.
Mr. Cambell?her step-fatber?had ques
tioned Taylor plainly, received an honest con
fession, and required a promise from thi
young man that no declaration should pa$
his lips to Henrietta, until her mother's re
turn. Then^ the old gentleman gave his word
no obstacle should be thrown in the way of M
success. Mr. Taylor felt it a reasonable re
' ? ktn nnno/la f/> vlo fli/
<jugsi, ana unm w wj uv
not demur, but gave the old man the promise
Mr. Robert Cambell was devoted to hi
seif-mvited guest, never leaving him to him
self, or even to the ladies, for a moment's ec
tertainraent, and seemed entirely bent o
making him enjoy himself. He insisted o
showing him his place, horses, and hounds
made up a fox-chase for his benefit, and ej
pressed himself as exceedingly disappointe
5?' -_
to fiad out he intended leaving the next day,
1 and could not remain to participate in the
htmp, , t '* - i
After Taylor retired, the second night-of
his stay, Henrietta McArthur's clouded face
haunted hyn, driving all sleep from his eye*
lids. He reflected long on all causes, probable
4d4 improbable, for her appearance. At
<^st^he arrived at the conclusion to remain an*
other day rather than leave her in suoh evident
trouble, without learning the source of it;
aird-he thought, by lingering, he might be
abf* to do so. X)ay had nearly dawned before
lies! ept,-and with the first, grey streaks in the
JBast* he was wakened by the sound of hunter's.
hams, yelping hounds, and the clamorous
^tynes ; of excited voioes ringing in his ears.
JR rffr dozing again, in spite of the sounds
below, when a knock at the door aroused him.
Witboufcfcwaiting an invitation to enter, Mr.
Cambo^ came in, saying heartily,
; 3Co^,,Taylor, yoa had better come with
j> i1- uf'Moturaed thoyoodg man
' r
In trop in bis present state of mind, be
ffelt oo nfcfcfination for any sport.
. "Tii^tiryou ha*d better get up and take^
breakfast with -us. If you are . bent-oft going;
rgeMin -early start. You can be off before
amfrim? - _
If "No, -I am quite mis-rested, and, if I can, I
will take another nap before rising."
.His host bade bite' a courteous good-bye,
extending an invitatfbn'fora repetition of the
left him to renew h^slambera; but
~3Wfy-wus again coy tod would- not be wooed
* back. So after tossing some minu tea, Taylor
:fcro& Worn the bed tod went to his window,
^fc^-tooked cuton the porch below, Mr.
Camjfiell issued frofo the house, with a cop in
^jslan&arii! calHnga maid to him, gave it
tni$Bf?^..take up tfr -Miss Henrietta with a
nieesogfe from Mrs. Gambol, that "she mtiSt
drihk it tod go back tcr-sleep again, as jjt,was
not nearly time to-get up."'^
Thylbr saw the vessel contained a liquid,
hut of coarse could form no idea of what
properties. He went back to his 'bed. The
had breathed seemed to have
sooth edhis excited feelings, and ha fell into a
s^eet sleep, from which he was at last roused
bir a servan t filing him it was tehrly breakfast
time. rj
V^ae suspicions still floated through bis
"^iltbH-Wben he went down, he found Mrs.
.d^ajjejion the porch, and to her he broached
the Subject o? Miss McArthur's paying a visit
to Geoijgefoijtf to hit mother. The lady
seeffledjftfleaseff with tb? idea, and said Bhe
wae?nrO Henrietta would be glad to go?she
hoped, rb?, it woufdbetof benefit to her, as
ah^.AaAi4a??eed a dgp ge,
|Breakfast was apnouDc d. The servant reHenrietta
hoc ready, so the lady ,
and gentleman sat down to the meal without ;
waiting^r^hor.^ Jhoy ^ helped^ ^
are dimming, child !* I sent you ^
nothing."*. * ]
"What! Do you forget, Aurft Soe, early i
this morning before the hunters left ? I won*
iered how you knew I needed it." I
. Mrs. Cambell said nothing more, but turned t
tt?'"5tfnvteJitetioft oh some other topic. Her ,
fape, thoughv grew jbaler and very sad. ,
^Hiihrietta, on tfaa contrary, though stupe- f
Gm bv her morninff notion, was more herself ,
^3 . > ~ ~ r o ? ? j
Itui hw bi^rijttd seen her, andiras evident- j
. Vthnktyl to think of a fWtto Georget o wn. (
1 ^ e x c u s ed <
iTaylor ordered his horses, for he was satisfied
to leave with theanderstanding she would
wjmoometohis mtffeft. He trusted theny*
Wfatini^tnti if he'-could not learn from her
A weeWStter,. Mrs. Tay 1 or herself went up
if^~Ml#^XrthW'.'-'--jI^Ior lilt himself in
honor bound, to keep as much as he could
(with* decorum,} from her presence j but in
h^otiiselfish devotion the -knowledge of'her
.b^Dg well and safe was paramount to-all else,
I aodthu^dwiot allow himself to pine at the
rtlffTinrfinn but devoted himself,
MM we^WmoP assiduity, to his business, car^^tf^i^Wgtening
jh^dn remembrance,
piecru^Ni^hg as she sewed,
ressure was re|
aild Taylor would not
1cjpud by recalling
had created
llK?-V.eekS' of Miss McArthur's stay had j
i ? ? - ^Awninff ahnnt nine
A . uw] wtieii u1u,u"*e?
IWtiert Cambell's carriage drove
!T^I?u'~X-*ffag Mrs. Cambell's maid who
R Woght-tho following note:
K'^jSrj5??r jjenHrita. .?I never dreamed
55^J"|fcTffeu!d miss you, and hopeyou and your
n^think me ael&w^^o^tetrin^
Iiwq yottJbmjk myselfc Your nncie is off
h' (in business, which will at^least keep him ri>'
I sent. tjv6 Qionth8, if not longer; therefor*, I
i; f^ndTor you to come home audAeep rae <om.
I?ai5y7especially as I am not well.
I send Millie f^^mj^ny to return with
< you, although I know Cfesar is all sufficient
i for safety. 1 thought? as you might be out
-fiate gettmg ifoihte, I would send Millie, too.
U j My- kihoest ip^earda to Mrs. Taylor and her
2! estimable son. Tell them 111 bring you back
si myself Gambell returns. \
- 4 Xafo affectionate aunt,
|g ' Susan Cambei.l.
8 Viln an hour aftert^nrrjvai 0f the carriage,
i4 -^ewrletja wjis gone. J\wa8 .forty miles to.
j?"Jfr. Cambell's, and a lat^art; but recent
5;i bins had wetted the sand, ancS^e level roads
low?r Carolina are (after a season)
t. jxjualto those that are McAdamizeOv She,
!ftefefore, hoped'tb reach her journey VWJ,
0 Jlittle after dark,/ ^
n* Mrs. Taylor did not feel satisfied to see her
; g? with no other escort except the servants, but
c- Tier son was away, and would not return till
d j nghtfall. Henrietta tried to soothe tbokind
M . ' * v
I .
lady's fears by telling her the entire confidence
her aunt felt in these servants,
"Why1" said she, with a feint smile, "aunt
Sue would trust daddy Csesarysnd maura Mil-'
lie, as much as if they were respectable white
folks."
The girl looked back for a last'glimpse of
the pleasant home. Good, mdtherly Mrs.
Taylor, stood still in the portico, watching the
carriage. What a haven it had been to her t
The two weeks gone by had been very happy*
and a dread (lost sight of-during that time)
came back upon her. What were to be the
days to come ? Look back, Henrietta McArthur
! Look back again! Yon leave behind
you the halcyon days of joy an?( peace, never,?
never more, to be knowB by your'tried heAitb
CHAPTER HIT
Near the south fork of Fishing Coeek, about
eight miles from Cheaterville, South Carolina,
on the old Saluda road, a* it 1eada to the.
"OM W??inn'tW? Bfit lfln'g ttftArtB&JWntn.
level, and neatly swept, with fine fading I
aji ade trees of oak aftdhickory, standing ia
all their natural beauty, around, giving the
plape, in the sultriest days, tbeair of a "coolly
calm retreat." The hoose-wraa built of'large
logs, hewed smoothly on all sidee, atAwelued
at the ends to fit so nioely, one lay dwftfbe
other with searoely a tcevice between. The
style of its architecture was the simple old
plan of one large hall-room to; begin with?
then the addition of shed-rooinaall around.
In front, a piazza ran the length of the large
room, which opened on it. The, house stood
very near the road, and all its surroundings,
from the good stables and well filled corn-crib,
to the well sootflred ohairs and bucket' in the
piazza, so unmistakably betokened thrift and
neatness, travellers were often impelled, irresistibly,
to stop and ask lodgings in such comfortable
looking quarters. Even had it not
bfeeh the custom dfthe country to turn no man
from your door, Mr> McCollough's warm, hospitable
nature, would never have permitted
him to send the stranger on for another resting
place. As for the moderate remuneration
he required,'twas such a mere pittance, it
would never have excited cupidity to feed and
house the weary way-farer. One, who once
partook of Mrs. McCoJIough's house-wifery,
never passed that way without asking to.test
it again. The thoroughly baked breach beautiful
yellow butter, and rich.milk, so delicious
ly cool? just from her well ordered springhouse/
were not to be forgotten ;, and weary
limbs gratefully remembered the well aired
rooms and nicely made tip. beds received at
her hands. ? '
: The truth was, Mr. Samuel McCollough,
the owner of .this house and farm, and his
wife, Mrs. .Margery. McCollqugh, wejre two ]
3Boh people as do not often mate, for fete is
a >t frequently so propitious as to give to man
a help-meet so entirely ope, as this man had
& und his wife. The former was a middlea
^d man when-he married, but when hp
3 oose, did ^wisely, and tool^to hia hqme a! f
p and ehar- j
v ter much )Se Mb own in sterling worth/
[ mgofdenrofe was the gulde of their lives;
jjd under its teachings they won the highest
&pecit of all who knew them?-the deepest
Jve from those who tried them, "Coder the
xjmmon garb and homely mannera of this
liijsband and wife, beat as pure hearts as ever :
ivltrras the breasts of our fallen humanity. J
"jQue July evening, as the sun went down on
he fields of smiling corn, Mr. McCollough '
uid his negro man, Jake, said "wo&" ,to their legs,
unhitched them from % plough#, apd 1
njountiug'them, gears and ail, roje .toward 1
;be house.. When they reaqhqd, the YUtering !
place, the animals stopped to drink* and the
naster dismounted, leaving both homes V> the .
:aro of the servant, and walked briskly up to '
;he house. In the pia&a, he found his wife
itrping the hero' of . the month?their first ;
jbild?now three weeks old.
hoy and his
aaked the feruer heartily, bending over ^he
emhryo; "1^0* .Creation,", and peering ipto*
h? mushy redj$#, with the intei^ted adpiir,
ration only ?ven by a father to a first-born.
"Oh I fine,1* answered the d&tpe, "Donjt J
you want to hold him, till I can set the supper-* <
table?" '
Very aintWaMly, but very Willingly, the '
good husband assumed the charge.
His wii^BOen got "through her little task
and came toVxelieve him of ihe infant, when
a carriage stopped at the1 gate. The driver
was about thirty-five years old, apparently,
and evidently a gentleman. . r~'\\
"Can we stay here-all night T'-he asked.
.."I don't like to refiise yOusaid Mr. McCollough,
"but my wife is hardly strong
enough" to^ait on strangers^-----,""Yoq
must^really let us stop," continued
the gentleman; "There a a lady in the ear*
riage who is not able to go farther; ahd, besides,
I know here we will find comfert."; '
:"You will have to let them come in,-6am,"
stud Mrs. McCoHodghj^^Yoo know Sfcrtf
Downing is sick, and gatjifl there,^nd'H'sTa
good prec&fertfrerto* JohulCgTsey'si
I've got a fine loaf of bread done fbr'aupper}
and it won't be much trouble to take them In." i
Mr. McColIough was glad his wife hatj'^r- j
ranged it so, and the gentleman assistahihe
lidy out, almost before Mrs. McCullougfi was
dine speaking, so desirous was he of stopping..
The ladv looked ill. and in a felt mom'i#tf
iraa disrobed, a ad occupying one of tfre*gooii
beds, with which the house was abundantly
stocked. Bef<rfe,the morning dawned, another
infant's c^ l&iride thatof fchebaby McOollough,
was beaKl in fiirm-hoofle. "The
woman rerae^t)ej^.po more her anguish, Tor
joy that a man wnjora,mto the world ^
the gentleman; in'the morning, explained io"
Mr. McCoJlough "H wasjbusiness of the moet
urgent necessity" which had called him to start
with the lady/for Georgia1, at this time. Of
course she hadito remain quiet now, but this
state of the case rendered It more imperative
for him to proceed at once; and as child and
mother were so comfortable and so fortunate
ib their entertainers, he left, much lighter of
heart than he could have helieved possible.
Mr. and Mrs. MoCollough, on this explanation,
promised all care of the two left in their
charge, aud the gentleman, as he said goodbye,
left in Mr. McCollough's hand a purse,
begging he would provide for every want of
the lady and child, and also find in the amount
an advance for their board.
The new baby throve finely, and the mother,
a young, tptjet oreature, got on nioely. She
was so pleaaantsp^en,easily satisfied, and, in
addition, grateful forSttt^ntion, Mrs. McCollough
declared it was a real pleasure to "do
for her," and the dame would tayjfrdMBp qf>
ber spirits by getting up a mdct'dmrrel in
such (^nteflto,
and while tbe.time ol the women was mien
up with the babies, he, each leisure moment,
conned the columns ef his paper with delight,
reading and re-reading here and there, , and fen
every passing neighbor repeating some of the
great Virginian's sentiments. This stpteemajh
was Mr. McCollough's hero. He nailed his;
fhith to him as the moet wonderfhl and most
honest politician living. .
Mr. McCollough's fight with the grass was
aboat over, and he was the victor. One day he
came into dinner and cheerily; announced ho
would finish laying by," by dark; and wiping
his reeking brow on his shirt-sleeve, said
pleasantly to the lady,
"Well, Mary, your boy and* mine look like
twins sleeping-there both in one cradle. By
the way, what are you going to caB him ? It's
bad luck to let a baby be a month old before
Darning it, and his first month far this world
will be completed to-morrow." t*
; "I want you to name him for me, Mr. MoCollough.
It's.the only way I can show you
howl appreciate all your kindness toward
me."
"Pooh! pooh I don't talk about kindness.
Little enough I've done, to what I've the
heartto do,- If you needed it. But are you in
earnest thatI should name yotlr child?"
"Yes, sir, indeed I am, fc/r either Mrs. MeCollou^r-ofyoureelftoname
him;"
"I'll do it better than Margery. She had
Vio" fiHM'isIOi nnr tifthv and ratlin] him Ram
after me, a? it was my father's and my grand
fether's name. I was willing, and if he'll
make the man they wereiJ?JiJ>**Trrvuu mU1'
jfbw your baby John
R^WpbTandlWe comes up to Jack Randolph,
of Roanoke, youjll be a proud woman,
ckr Obljott must notr.ery & aboui it, or I
will think you are not pleased with the name
I've given. hirii.**" ,
"Yes, indeed, I like it," 'she said, earnestly;
but the team, evidently beyond her power to
tastrnin1,' flo wed'freely.
It would seem some tender chord of feeling
had been touched. The babe just then
awakened, and she took hhn up out of the
cradle, where he had been lying by the side of
little Sam McCpUoughj pressed his cheek to
her lips, her tears the while bedewing his, little
(ace, and murmured the name, just given,
several times oyer; thus as it were, eeemiug
in tears and caresses to baptize the babe John
Randolph.
A feV-4ojnutep- later, Mrs. McCullough
called her boarder to the plain
but well prepared dioHfi^qqAich she. always
bad. The lady had little appefite^^cou'y
her hostess tempt it by crowdjpg berpt?*^
with the cbeu^topfji ef the chioken stew and
m^pjiest of tfkelatge potatoes. These fits of
depression were di frequent occurrence and
excited sympathy, but no especial interest in
lferjpod-hear^ed entertainers, The meal coneluded,
Mr. MpCollough took anadmiring
jook at the babies, again asleep, and both
lying in little Sam's cradle,, declaring they
t^ere the brag boys of the neighborhood, and
with a clear whistle strode off to gear up his
horse and get back to thefiejd again.
He was just disappearing over the brow of
the hill which overhung his bottoms, where his
work lay, when the mother of little John
Randolph came opt of her room, tothe larger
one, where Mrs. McCollopgh was.seated with
her work. She had a small handle in her
hahd. 1. -!.? ^
"Mrs; McColloughf^hbe said, "I want to
go down to the 'wash-plae^* tovrask out these
little things. Will you be so good as to take
care of my baby till I return." . ' .
"Certainly I will; but if I was you I woald
let them sdohe till free Peggy comes: to; do
your regular washing."
lifHir Wfnfl JL need?take
dare of my boy tfli I come back!"
"Don't be afraid. I'll take as good care of I
him as I do of Sammy."
The lady passed out and Mrs. McCollough
saikhhting on?one eye on the babies, and
ian^on jlfce big road to see Who passed by?
dftbMing, indiscriminately, to dither child*
as tttiir wants required' her. lengthening
shadow^warned ^E*69^pCr thfie was not far
off,and she arose and busied herself in preparetipmLfpr
it,^Aebabies both gpt sleepy while,
she w^'^thqs^ployed, and waating to be put
to sfeep, befMTfo frgfc Wondering what
eoqjd be detaining her hoarder, she tried to
;Jee to'throe things at,otfe.but fonnd her
nancls Wy full with two crying babiesand
and supper to see to, and"felt.impatient for
the aseiataqce of her guest, at her three-fold
task. The boys were at a real crying match
when Mr. bfoCollougb entered, who wanted to
know the meaning of such an uncommon uproar.
N ^ .
"They are both sleepy," said his wife. "I'm
glad you have come. Supper is about ready;
so do step to the fence andjoa|l Mary. She
went <dow.D to wash out a fef pieces and she
has been gone long enough to do a good wash" fr
. *
"She's pot used to such work, do you think*
Margery?" "$o, I know she'a npt The
last time I was washing she came down ang
did out a piece or two, and I could see jt.jvjg
toew work, but Peggy was contrary tnat w^jt
and Mary would not bear to my doing it toir
her." ..
"She's a real nice girl, but it seems to me
she has a.trouble on her mind/' , ^
x / 'j&'i v.
a
" J^rDUtgracwos me, m?a*c ~~~j?
ha ve started fresh. Do step to th* fence and
caUlwri^after sundown, and sh&ougfcfcnot m
i to beout in the dew." ~
;^^r. McGolknjgfi called and called, Iwt
>? "-.* ? 1 mm *"
jpot wewrⅆ the bench and peddle dry* Be
gave vent to numberless cries and helloes.
There was no reply but.the echo of hbvoioe
reveroerating from the hills on either side of
the cteek, He was now seriously alarmed,
and |ent a negro man one way and went an*
other himself to coTfect the men of the neigh- M I
borhood, to search the woods and drag H
creek that night It was useless wor? Ko "" ^
.trace could be discovered of the.^issiq^,. /
woman. 1 mm
[TO BE CONTINUED ?riXT WBHk';} /
/
BOILED WHEAT FOB DWEWTCS.
Soak about a quart of clflkn whita wheat in
; warm water for twelve hours or until tite ker- $
Delaware thoroughly cooked, in a farina kettle, h?
I or in a tin pail placed in another kettle con- J
j taining water. Let a few large nails or small /
' Stones be pot in the large: kettle to keep the /
( pail frbm resting on the bottom. By this J
I means the wheat can be cooked a long time /
without scorching it. If the vessel containing
the wheat is not kept in hot water the wheat' ~
will scorch and burn, even if the toass is stir "
red while it is being cooked. After the kf
nels are quite soft, add salt to suit lie tasfBut
wheat should never be salted before i^8
cooked,-as salt will render the bran tofeh.
Wheat thus prepared is excellent when Atea
in milk,or dressed with c^m and.jagar.
Procure the best qaalityofwhite wftiit* ak
red wheat is liable tobfetougiu Only a macaws portion
of the wheat received at cfy flouring
mills is sufficiently free from rat and mice lib*
ter and foul seed to be cooked in the foregoing
manner. The praotioe of the writer has b^n,
for a few years past, to procure a small bag of
clean wheat from some good farmec trho bal"
tivates clean, plump grain. ;
Aside from the F?*
viuiug BnmrairfiHicIe of diet,Joiwd Jw{wat k ?^Vjj
one of the very beet kinds of mod thai, invalids,
bilious and high-living ayspeptiot^BUr '
eat No mediae is comparable to it for giving
a health^ 1 tfpe to ontfs system when it ? ,
is somewhat run* down.A friend whp had . j j
been accustomed to subsist largely on. beef- ..-m
steak and oysteofua laifl on &amk bed, last .
autumn, and h? ||Msicia? assured him he""'
could prepare for an wnwelcomeacase nf typhoid
fever. We sent to him a few pounds of
wheat, with directions for cookfcg and eating,
and, as we anticipated, he was at his business
in four days, quite welL He abandoned the
use ofmeat, except in small qahntities two or
three rimes a week, and sayrtbe wheat has
made almost a new man" or him. finch soft ?
food will digesteasily, it is sufficiently bulky *
to distend the stomach, and no other food-will /
make better blood. Boiled wheat is for '
perior to wheaten grits and graham breads
S*L '.J.' TIT 7-7? /
u'trtetuw u ccjwy. >' *
.?. >, . v "i-iU>}
A Pbbcociodb YoimaBTKfc-^ialuv df Watertown,
ia fond of child ton, but has none
of his own. On? day his house was visited
by two mothers, each with boyafeur
years o?, snmrfclhtie fellows- and bright as
riWerdimeft JonesVad occasion to harness
up-sujjoree to go toVatore a few miles off,
and as tbe^iaferwore plajmg on the lawn, he
took them in his open b*wv fof theuddue^
not informing their parentsy the ihct
On their way to the. store^e horse got
frightened teid ran away. Jon? was thrown
oat but escaped injury. The fiw^earold hid crawled
under the seatof the bugfetlMk
bled from the rear of the vehicle aniens pickup
unhurt, while the four-year old. the
dasher with both hands and remaia4oTiifw"*<>%>? ?Tbuggy.
; Tne horse dashed on like wild tenotf tidd ^
at lastplnnged down an embankment, lih^ . t
he smashed himself add the beggy. J<me& *
arrived at the wreckas soonas pcf-sib^ex.--"?.
peeling to fib d the child dead or terriMfidjured,
but to bis surprise he fouiftliiMittte
fellow still grasping tha dssher^standtetfril*hjfl
feet and entirely uninjured. W {~*
*^CFWjJlyJ"'-cried Jones, limning forward,
"areyon uninjuredV~^r-' 7 ( V
"Injured.{"-said the lad, in a tone,of surprise,
"no-I ain't hurted, bet I'll tellyodiwkat 4/
it is," assuming a confidential air, "Mr. Jones,
this is the ooMomsdsif$MS8* lever did
q^rAi.my Ufe!"
is scarcely a community or neighbwe^^^^te- p
,rt ' ) i awF*
found m almost 6jVe*^
spectabiiity is thesubjectofprivatewid neighborhod
end talk. Hit enemies point with derision,
and bis friends bang their heads in
shame, and whiskey !i is done it That kind
hearted neighbor and hard working-man. has
become a pest;in society and trouble to his
family. Whiskey has beat hjm. Whiskey
will beat any man living; aud that is just
what it is made for.
v ??*? '?>?i?
A Happy Idea.?The High School of
Springfield, Ohio,graduatedithe youngiadies
of ital?8t class in calico dresses, as pleasing
to the eye of taste as to the hand of economy;
This was brought about by the thoughtful;
onrMVAotinn of the Runerintendent and the hear
ty acquiescence of the girls themselves, on the
. only ground on which high schools can Ion*
be perpetuated, namely, that being supported
by taxation they must be open to all classes
in society and confer their advantages upon
the poorest of their pupils, without prescrip- *
tion .by fashion or creed expenses or anything
. n old colored washerwomen, who used
to groan over her tube, found consolation in
the hope, that "she would soon be whie^re robes
won't need washing, and a poor creature can
upsether tub and dance on the bottom of it,
singing glory, hullabaloo, forever aDd foreverl"
- /?. .
s " *-~S 4'
!&>*., V