Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

lewis M. ontis-r, Proprietor. | 3,n $nbrj>mbcnt Jitmiln ftcfospapcr: .Jfor tljc promotion of fjjt political, Social, Agricultural anb Commercial Interests of % Soutjj. {TERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 19. YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1873. NO. 44. ' 1A JU (Original Jdovw. VVrittfii for the Ynrkvillc Enquirer. THE WHITED SEPULCHRE. BY CLAUDE FORKESTEK. ? CH A PTER 11?Continued. "This is to be your room?Providence permitting"? said Mr. Mason, throwing open a door in the attic. "Directly opposite is sister Tomkins' quarters." "How,sir?" asked Lizzie, in a tone of surprise. "Did I understand you to say that your siiter resides with you ?" "I speak not after the flesh, my child," said Mr. Mason. "The relationship existing is a purely spiritual one. Mrs. Tomkins is my housekeeper, in a worldly sense." "Why not dispense with the services of a : hired housekeeper, altogether?" asked Lizzie. "Why, how is that possible, my child, seeing that I have no family of my own to attend to these domestic duties?" "But, sir," suggested Lizzie, "if I am to i:?a mn YL-milrt if. nnt. hp ns well to ren live nun J vu J IIVM1M ? XV. _ _ der myself useful and self-supporting, in a j measure, rather than an additional expense ? > Could I not keep house for you ?" "And discharge good sister Tomkins !" ex- j claimed Mr. Mason, with uplifted hands and , a look of consternation. "I cannot listen to 1 such a plausible temptation, even from you, I Lizzie. No, no; there is sufficient room for: both of you. I did not offer you a home for ' the sake of services which yon may be capa-1 ble of rendering. I wanted you here for your own sake, and for an additional comfort, in your companionship and society. Let me but see you happy and contented, aud I shall consider your presence a fair equivalent for all that can possibly be done for you." And,: having thus spoken, Mr. Mason grew very red in the face ; and, turning quickly upon his I heel, descended the stair-case. Lizzie became suddenly conscious of a vague, indefinable fear; and, very singularly,! too, her miud iustantly reverted to the invita-! tion of the spider to the fly?a bit of nursery rhyme, familiar to the reader, no doubt. ' Somehow or other, the unusually kind voice ; and manner of Mr. Mason grated harshly : upon her ear and made the warm blood tingle in her veins. There was an instinctive recoil pxnerieneed. the exact nature of which she j ?I , could not divine?the cause or reason of which was inexplicable even to her. She tried very hard to reason her mind out of its apprehensive driftings, and to secure au anchorage in the unblemished and exalted character of Mr. | Mason ; but, somehow or other, the "Peacebe-still" would not come. The idea of her mere presence being an equivalent for all that Mr. Mason could possi-, bly do for her ! Her presence!?a poor, friendless orphan ! "Aye!" whispered the voice of warning, "but the friendless orphan is beautiful?is very young and lovely !" and, ( as she glanced into the little mirror before her, a momentary tremor shook her dainty I form. These impressions, however, which had passed over her sensitive nature, as the clouds ' drift over the blue of God's own heavens, were soon dispersed aud scattered to the winds.! When she reflected calmly and dispassionate-, ly upon the character of the man, she could not resist the inference, that everything emanating from such a source must be kind, gentle and affectionate in its manifestations; and, if Mr. Mason's theme, manner and even tone of voice had been strangely kind, she attributed it all to thehiddeu principle withiu, which pave tone and character to everything o-- - - _ . said and done by the disciple of the lowly i Nazarene. In other words: While she could discover nothing in herself or the circumstances of her J situation, calculated to draw from Mr. Mason i such profuse and liberal expressions of generosity, hospitality and affectionate interest? when the act alone expressed all that was necessary?she had only to remember the fact i that he was a man professing Bible priuci- j pies ; and whoever attempts honestly to live Bible lives, must necessarily be eccentric men, j differing materially, from every other class, in ; word, thought and deed. So Lizzie leaped the shadows which fell across her path, and was in the sunshine again. The next three or four weeks of her life were made up of pleasant experiences. Mrs. ! Tomkins, the housekeeper, was kind as oue could wish, and left no means untried to render Lizzie's new home attractive and agreea-1 ble; while Mr. Mason manifested such an abiding interest in her happiuess, that it was impossible to be otherwise than grateful. Entertaining books, beautiful dresses and even : costly jewelry had been again and again pur- [ chased for her. A private tutor had also been engaged for her, and Mr. Mason only awaited her consent to purchase a splendid piano. At the expiration of this time, however, the ' novelty of her new existence began to wear ; off; and it was no unusual thing to see Lizzie sitting by the window of her little attic chain- j ** her, looking out over the fields toward the 1 princely mansion of the Robertsons. It was ' no unusual thing to see the dear head bowed j upon the window-sill and the delicate form j tremulous with emotion ; and, the only cause i to be assigned for all this was?to use the language of a little girl?because she had "lost the happy out of her heart." What had become of Theodore ? Nearly a whole month had passed since she last beheld him, and in all that time neither j written or verbal message had come to quiet j and comfort her poor heart, so wholly his. i Was it possible that he had, at this late hour, measured the distance between their social j positions and deemed it impassable ? Was it; possible that he had used her merely as a j toy, and for the gratification of a spirit ofilir- . tation. Was all the music to be hushed,' which pealed out of the consciousness of his j * love; and was she doomed?as thousands have i been?to stand with outstretched arms before an idol that would never leave its pedestal? ; never come down to her? Oh ! the bitterness of these thoughts!?the I cruelty of these tearful reveries by that little I attic wiudow! True, he had made no formal declaration of the love which she was now so yearningly recalling ; true, Lizzie had never given him,; by word of mouth, the slightest basis of hope; j but if actions express anything, the couple j were as much engaged as though the custo-! niary form had been gone through with and ' the bridal dresses purchased. This protracted silence on the part of Theo- j (lore robbed her fair chock of ils bloom, mor-1 tided aud humiliated her sensitive spirit, and aroused her pride and jealousy. She became j shy, reserved and painfully melancholy ; and in spite of all Mr. Mason's efforts to discover the cause, retained the consuming secret within her own bosom. Toward twilight, in the beautiful month of May, Lizzie was sitting out in the vine-clad verandah, overlooking Mr. Mason's garden. She was thinking of Theodore and all the joy that fled with him, when she was made aware of another and unexpected presence. She turned to look upon this intruder upon her i privacy, when her waist was suddenly encir- j cled by a strong arm, and the voice of Mr. ; Mason fell upon his ear : "Oh ! Lizzie, Lizzie! j even though life go out with the utterance, I j must speak a word to you, now and here! I j have wrestled with my heart long enough,: God knows! I have striven hard to imprison my sorrow in ray own bosom ; but, alas ! it, has burst assunder every barrier and now leaps to ray lips to tell?tell you, that?that I > love you !" "Such language from you, sir!?and to your own niece !" and Lizzie broke from his em- j brace aud ran, trembling, into the parlor, i Greatly to her surprise and no less to her alarm, there was no escape in that direction, i for the inner door was locked and the key | gone. Making this discovery, she turned to demand an explanation from Mr. Mason, who ; had followed her into the room and was now i seated. "Do not unnecessarily alarm yourself, Liz- j zie," said Mr. Mason, much agitated. "Rest j assured, that you have nothing to fear from i >1 me. "Allow me to inform you, sir, that I do I not fear," said Lizzie, erecting her little form,' but trembling like an aspen, nevertheless. "I - - ~ ii'Ji-tf ntiippt 1ms am uunuua tu uvuviu, v^jv^. .? influenced you in detaining me here against j my will." "Sit down and listen to me," said Mr. Mason. "I shall detain you but a few moments." He paused ; looked confusedly down upon the carpet?then up to the ceiling. Finally, he leaned forward ; and, as if addressing himself j to a particular spot on the carpet, he said : "First of all, Lizzie, you are not my niece. When Mr. Donald Gray married your mother, she was a widow with one child. That child was yourself. Your father died a few months prior to your birth, and Graham was his name. I am only half brother to the late Donald Gray, whom you have been accustomed to call your father. Pray what relationship do we bear to each other, if this he really so? That such is really the case, you may satisfy yourself at any time, not only by reference to papers in my possession, but by corroboratingstateraents from half the people in town." "Supposing that point yielded," said Lizzie; j "what then ?" "Why,simply,that neither human nor divine law cau condemn me for the passionate love I bear you," said Mr. Mason, still looking at that particular spot on the carpet. "That much is also granted," said Lizzie. "And now, that our opinions coincide so ad- j mirably, you will please allow me to retire j under the overwhelming consciousness of the j iuois, to wmcn my uueuuuu mis ueun =u eloquently directed." Mr. Masou looked quickly up. The shadow upon her brow was dark and lowering? the entire countenance ghastly as death. "You are mocking me, Lizzie!?positively making sport of a love, which, if barren and vain, will sap the very foundations of my nature and render me miserable through life? and perhaps, miserable through all eternity! Oh! Lizzie I" and Mr. Mason bowed his head upon his bosom, and groaned aloud. "Mr. Mason, such language is unbecoming a professor ofthe religion of our blessed Saviour. To you, at least, the gratification originating in fulfilled wishes of any character, should be of little account, when compared to the'exceeding weight of glory' in reserve?the grand compensation beyond the tomb. You, who profess to live under the influences of 'the powers of the world to come' and to have transferred your affections to spiritual and heavenly objects, cannot?or should not?be much concerned in reference to worldly success in any of its phases." "Hear her !" exclaimed Mr. Mason, starting to his feet and walking rapidly about the rr\nm T nvil-e a iloilnr.'lfinil of t.llfi love. ! which has been consuming me for months ! I?her benefactor and friend?acknowledge myself impoverished and dying for that which she has power to bestow ! I plead for affection and trustful confidence from her, whom I shelter and protect, whom I have loaded with favors, and whose future happiness is the height of my ambition! I pray for the heart of her whom I love! and?and?and?she ! preaches me a sermon!" Then, after a long J pause, during which he continued to walk up i and down the room, he stopped short before J the half terrified girl and said : "The reli- j gion of the Bible, Lizzie, is a religion of rea- j son and common sense. It asks not that its disciples should cease to be men and women. ! You are beautiful and good ; and I can dis-1 cover and be affected by the facts, without j doing violence to my religious principles?in j fact, religion does not claim to shut my eyes j and paralyze my heart. Why should not I love you, Lizzie; and why should not failure and disappointment in my love render me un-1 happy and miserable, as well as other men, j who profess no religion and who claim no . master, but their moods and wills? It may i be, that religion would sustaiu me under such a sore affliction, or it may be that the' affile- j tion itself would sink me to depths which re- j ligion can never, never fathom ! Lizzie, not because the religion is impotent and unjible triumphantly to bear the burden of even a broken heart, but, because, in the blindness ( of my sinful nature, I may drift away from, that refuge aud 'strong tower' and 'make ship-1 1. 1. > T 1 tl,n ' WTUCK 01 iiWlU. ? lliivc JJlujuu tin? |/jajgi ui ? our Lord?'lead us nut in temptation'?from j the far away years, which are gone, even up ' to the present hour; and now ("here Mr. Ma- | son fell upon his kuees") I prostrate myself! at your dear feet with the same prayer upon my lips. Oli! Lizzie, expose not my faith to such a trial!?bear me not down with such a , burden !?I may not endure the ordeal?may sink, hell-deep beneath the disappointment! , Lead me not into circumstances of temptation and sore trial, which may be deeper and stronger than my feeble faith ! Save me with j your love; environ me with yourself; or I shall be lost! lost!" "Oh! do not talk thus, Mr. Mason," said! Lizzie, affected beyond measure by this passionate appeal, and compassionating such ev idcnt distress of mind. "Don't humiliate yourself thus at the feet of a poor orphan girl, whose noblest possession has been your j friendship aud good will, and who is dispos- , sessed of the power to grant the love you , crave. Relieve me, dear sir, from this em-1 barrassing situation. Give me the retirement1 which I so much need. Nothing can be ac- j. complished by retaining me here and pro-1 longing this unfortunate interview." "You deal the death blow, then, to every hope of my heart?" asked Mr. Mason, rising.! "God forbid !" said Lizzie, rising, and pla-1 cing her hand upon the bell-rope. "Stop !?what are you about to do ?" asked Mr. Mason, laying his hand upon her arm and breathing hurriedly. "I am about to ring for assistance, sir," re-. ' 1 T -l | piieu JLiizzie, retaining ner nuiu ujjuu bell-rope. "I disapprove of this detention, and have once or twice intimated as much to you, without the slightest notice on your part." "And you propose making the subject of this interview public town talk, eh ?" asked j Mr. Mason, taking the key of the door from j his pocket. "I shall dismiss the subject entirely," caid Lizzie, extending her hand for the key. "I have too much respect for myself?too much for your distressed state of mind?than to give publicity to that, which I am heartily ashamed of, and which, I think you will regret, yourself, upon calm and dispassionate reflection." "How calmly you dispose of the whole sub- j ject!" said Mr. Mason, the dark shadow re-; turning to his brow. "Girl! do you know? but, never miud ! Here is the key." "And now, Mr. Mason," said Lizzie, throw-1 ing the door wide open, "since I am no longer j your prisouer, I would be glad to look over those papers, relating to my birth and parent- j age, which you spoke of having in your pos- ( session. I will be down to supper presently, and you can hand them to me then." Mr. Mason passed his open fingers several j times through his hair, looking, all the while, j thoughtfully upon the floor and scraping the carpet with the toe of his boot. He was con-, sidering. "Very well!" said Mr. Mason, suddenly j looking up. "All right, sir!" and Lizzie ran up stairs, j singing a merry air, while her poor heart was ' nearly breaking-to have a good cry all alone j in her little attic room. Mr. Mason immediately repaired to his own room, and, after locking the door and carefully drawing together the curtains of his win-! dows, he fell upon his knees beside the bed. j As a Christian, one would suppose, that? j under the circumstances?he would very nat- j urally resort to the beneficial influences of: prayer, and seek to cast his burden upou that I sympathizing Saviour, whom he professed to serve, and to whom the "weary and heavy laden" have been so graciously invited to 1 come. But prayer was not his object?such a thought never entered his mind. Drawing a large oaken chest from under the bed, he took ; therefrom a small tin box.fasteued with a diminutive brass padlock. Rising to his feet and walking toward the lighted candle upon j t.lio mnntpl.nipre. he unlocked the box and 1 ' I took out several rolls of paper. In so doing,1 and apparently without his knowledge, one of; the rolls of paper fell upon the floor and rolled under a small foot-bench near the fireplace. "This is the one which I want," said he, to , himself, holding one of the rolls close to the j candle ; then, hearing approaching footsteps, he hastily crowded the remainder into the tin box, and threw it into the trunk. A moment j after, the voice of "sister Tomkius" issued , melodiously through the key-hole: "Brother1 Mason, come down to supper! The oyster I fritters is a spiling and the tea is gitting I cold!" "Verily, sister Tomkins," said Mr. Mason, j passing out, as Mrs. Tomkins passed in, "the i apostle was not so much out of the way, after I all, when he said, that 'the flesh lusteth agaiust the spirit.' Ah ! my sister, after awhile we shall 'hunger no more.' " And, having thus j delivered himself, he descended to the diningroom. Mrs. Tomkins had invariably made it a rule to pass through the house every night about! supper time, "to put things to rights," as she , expressed it. The duty consisted mainly in seeing that the windows were securely fastened, that plenty of water was in the rooms, and that everything was safe, tidy and comfortable. While thus engaged, she observed a roll, of paper upon the floor , and this she picked up and laid upon the mantel-piece by the candle-stick. Just then, hearing footsteps upon the stairs,; she called out: "Who is that?" and ap-! proached the door. "Only me, Mrs. Tomkins," said Lizzie, who j was about descending to the dining-room, j "Are you alone ?" "Yes child?come in." And now, observe how strangely the hidden : hand of Providence works by apparently insignificant agencies. "I have not been down to supper yet," said , Lizzie, walking directly to the mantel-piece, i "so we cannot afford to euter into conversa- j tion. I only stepped in to beg a sheet of writing paper. Ah! what is this?" and she took up the roll of paper, which Mr. Mason had unknowingly dropped, and which Mrs. Tomkins had laid upon the mantel. "That, my dear, is some of brother Mason's papers," said Mrs. Tomkins. "I found the ; roll lying upon the floor awhile ago, and put ] it up there on the mantel. Nay, don't take , it away, child!" "Well! well!" said Lizzie, "who would have supposed Mr. Mason capable of such ab- j sent mindedness!" Then, turning to Mrs. Tomkins, she added: "He promised to take : these papers down with him and hand them to me, for perusal, at the supper-table. They 1 nnnt.itn i n fnr mn firm rplfltiup tfl mv birth JUld parentage." "The poor, dear soul!" exclaimed Mrs. Tomkins. "Take them down with you, dear, lie must have forgotten them." Then, plac-; ing her hand apon Lizzie's shoulder, as she moved toward the door, she asked : "Are 1 you quite sure them is the right papers, dear?" Lizzie took the roll to the light and read the label pasted upon the outside : "Donald Gray?Lizzie (Graham) Gray. Number Two. \ Letters, &c." "Then, it is all right, darling," said Mrs. Tomkins. "God grant that a blessing may i he inside." Lizzie kissed the honest ami good old crea tare, slipped the roll of paper in her bosom, and ran down stairs. Mr. Mason was standing by the fire-place as , she entered the dining-room. His arms were folded upon his breast and his eyes fixed thoughtfully upon the rug. He made no re-, mark when Lizzie came in ; but, quietly placing a chair for her at the table, he seated himself at his customary place, and reverently asked a blessing upon the meal about to be partaken. Nothing whatever was said during the meal, and, at its conclusion, Mr. Mason handing ( her a roll of papers, simply said, "Here are the papers, Lizzie." "Are these all. sir?" she asked, confounded ' by their unexpected appearance, and obscrv-, ing that they were labelled, "Number One." 1 "All ?" repeated Mr. Mason, turning sud-; denly upon his chair; "why do you ask that question, Lizzie?" and his face grew ghastly white again. "I have no others in my posses-' sion." "I merely supposed it possible, sir," said Lizzie, "from the fact, that this i3 labelled . number one;" and, without awaiting a reply, or venturuing a look upon Mr. Mason?whom she now felt confident had reasons for denying ; the existance of papers, "number two"?she j hastily left the room and ran up stairs, humming a lively air, to disguise the real state of her feelings. A few moments after, the contents of roll "number two" were spread out upon Lizzie's work-table. They consisted of a letter from the late Donald Gray to Mr. Mason, a number of receipts for moneys received on deposit, and several letters to herself from Theodore Robertson. They had evidently been crowded ' together, not because of any necessary con-1 nection between the subjects, but, as papers which he had intended to destroy ; for on the outer wrapper of the roll was written in pen-! cil?"to be burnt." The letter from Donald Gray read as fol- I lows: "Mr. Jacob Mason?Dear Sir: Inclosed you j ? ? i...? K?n|, wl,i(.h if T I will 11i1u 11 nveiiij uu1u1i uiui& ii>iw, .. ...v., .. . mistake not, makes Five Thousand Dollars of mine, which you have in your possession. Not every man in my circumstances, could have saved that much in the course of twelve years, with a salary of eighty dollars a month. By rig- J id economy, however, I havo done so. Had I i not better put this money out at usury and begin i to realize some enjoyment in life from my hard i earnings? What a glad surprise I have in store j for Lizzie and the old 'oman! They think me i miserly and mean, I know; but lot them wait awhile*longer! I will show thorn what printer's | ink can accomplish, when aided and abetted by rigid economy in the shape of coarse fare and plain dress. * * * * Call round and see me to-night, and give me the benefit of your advice. I will be at the ofiice until nine o'clock; but, after that time am at your service. Your obedient servant, Donai.d Giiay." Oct. 27th, 1842. A cold, icy shudder ran through Lizzie's heart as she read the date of this letter: for she remembered, that Mr. Mason had been i at her father's house far into the night of the [ 27th October, and that, on the morning of the j 28th, the writer of this simple, but joyful let-j ter was found dead in his bed. And how came these receipts in his possession ??the sole proof of the transaction ? What an inference! Nay! what damning evidence of guilt! And poor Theodore, too! How she had wronged him by these long months of doubt, and suspicious distrust! Here lay the unan swerable credentials of his truth, loyalty and allegiance before her very eye9; one of the letters heing but a week old. She trembled violently, and grew very pale, as she read the concluding paragraph of Theodore's last letter: "Under the peculiar circumstances of the case, patience ceases to be a virtue, and I consider myself justified in resorting to measures, which, otherwise might be deemed rash and inconsiderate. Before I surrender my claim upon your affections; before I consent to abandon the hope which blesses me ; before I construe your inexplicable silence into an evidence of forgetfulness or indifference, I shall hear from your own lips if the past be but a delusive dream, the present a cheat and mockery, and the future a blank for me. This I will most assuredly attempt, should thi9 letter extort no reply. I will wait one week. After that time, neither bolts nor bars shall deprive me of a knowledge I of my fate from your own lips." "For the love of heaven, child, open the I door! It's only me!" said Mrs. Tomkins, \ knocking loudly upon the closed door of Lizzie's room. "What has happened, Mrs. Tomkins?": asked Lizzie, trembling in every limb. "What was that heavy report a moment ago ?" "Oh! my child!" said the agitated woman,; throwing herself upon the bed, "what have i you done! Them papers has killed him!i Oh ! the poor lost soul!" "The papers have killed him !" said Lizzie.' "How? For heaven sake, Mrs. Tomkins, j calm yourself,and tell me what has happened." j 11 * ^ ? ? '' ~ - d A T t?iotn/* ' " .ivner supper, sum >*113. iuiukiuo, noiug 1 and sitting upon the foot of the bed, "Mr.! Mason went directly up to his room. About | an hour after, he came down stairs, and told ' me that, having occasion to look over his private papers, he had discovered that one of the J rolls or packages was missing. Having hnn-! died the papers just before supper, he thought it possible, that the one missing might have ! fallen upon the floor. As I had been in his room, he thought it more than likely, that I had found it aud put it away for him." "And what did you tell him ?" asked Liz- i zie. "What could I tell him, but the blessed truth, my dear ?" "And then?what?" asked Lizzie, looking , eagerly into the face of the old woman.; "How did the intelligence affect him ? Was he very angry ?" "Angry !" said Mrs. Tomkins, "why, bless ? 'it if your heart, he went starK crazy rigni men and there. He cursed us both. Oh ! how horrible to tliiuk of poor brother Mason uttering such dreadful words ! He walked rapidly about the room, gnashed his teeth with rage, said he was ruined, lost, undone, and all that kind of strange talk?poor soul! Then, all on a sudden, he walked out of the room, muttering something to himself. Not liking the looks of things, and afraid that he was ; going after you, I cautiously followed him up stairs, and, as he entered his room, I slipped out the key of his door, aud locked him up from the outside. God have mercy on me, if that well-meant act had anything to do with it!?but, a moment after I turned the key in the lock, I heard the pistol-shot from within, the shriek of agony and the dull, heavy fall." "Merciful heavens!" exclaimed Lizzie, "give me the key, Mrs. Tomkins! How do we know but what an accident may have befall-1 en him ?" And Lizzie rushed from the room, followed by Mrs. Tomkins. A moment after, Lizzie was down upon her i knees beside the ghastly face and rigid form of her uncle. An empty pistol lay beside him ; and a single glance at the lacerated brow and scalp of the unfortunate man re- j vealed how sudden must have been his transi- ] tion from Time to Eternity?from his subtle schemes and avaricious plottings and plans, to the presence of the Judge of the Fatherless j and the Widow, whom he had so atrociously defrauded and wronged. The screams of Lizzie and Mrs. Tomkins > brought in the police and a number of citi-' zens, and, among the latter, Theodore Robertson. He?poor fellow !?had been lurking about the premises all the evening, and had butjust made up his mind to effect an en- j trance by stealth, and obtain, if possible, a private interview with his dear Lizzie, when the report of a pistol, and the mortal shriek j of the suicide, struck terror to his heart. The ! attempt to force the street door was quite in- j effectual, however, and not until the arrival : of the police was the coveted admission ob- j tained. Having possessed himself of all necessary! information as to the cause of the pistol shot j and the screams of the women, and having ; satisfied himself as to the safety of Lizzie, he j waited until the excitement had somewhat j abated and the crowd dispersed, and then revealed himself to the poor girl, whose alarm, terror and excessive agitation of raiud was soon quieted, soothed and forgotten, upon the bosom of her lover and in the blessedness of the consciousness that he was true to her. A coroner's inquest was held upon the body I of Jacob Mason the following day, and a ver- j diet rendered in accordance with the facts al-1 ready stated. He was decently interred in i due time, and the secret cause of his tragic ! death buried with him. The two packages of papers were submitted j to Theodore some time after Mr. Mason's; death. The contents of "Number One" prov-1 ed a base forgery, and Lizzie's father was Donald Gray, after all. The contents of "Number Two"?with the exception of Theodore's letters?were immediately destroyed, and the terrible disclosures never revealed. Lizzie, beiug the only surviving relative of Mr. Mason, inherited all his property, most of which had been acquired by her poor dead father's hard earnings. After long months of opposition, on the part of Mr. Edward Robertson, which Theodore had vainly endeavored to overcome, Lizzie became the wife of her devoted lover. To their equal surprise and gratification, Mr. Robertson came to the wedding, and?like a good, sensible man?fargave this first act of disobedience on Theodore's part, and expressed himself "reconstructed" on the question of his marriage. Old Mrs. Tomkins to this day, speaks of the exalted piety of "poor brother Mason," but Lizzie now knows him to have been but "outwardly righteous unto men, but full of hypocrisy"?or a whited sepulchre?outwardly beautiful, but full of dead men's bones within, and all uncleanness. |Hi$tcn<iuc0?s Reading. "THE GRAY MARE THE BETTER HORSE." This well-known proverbial saying originated from the following circumstances: A gentleman of a certain county in England having married a young lady of considerable fortune, and at the same time possessed of mauy other charms, he found, not Jong after marriage, that she was of a high, domineering temper, and always contending to be mistress both of him and his family ; therefore he formed the resolution of parting from her. Accordingly he waited upon her father, and told him that he found his daughter of such a temper that he was heartily tired of her, and if he would take her home again he would return every peuny of her fortune. The old geutlemau, having inquired into the cause of his complaint, asked him why he should be more disquieted at it than any other married man, since it was the common case with them all, and consequently no more thau he might have expected when he entered into the married state. The young gentleman desired to be excused if he said he was so far from giving his assent to this assertion i that he thought himself more unhappy than i any other man, as his wife had a spirit no , way to be quelled, and most certainly no man ; who had a sense of right and wrong could j ever submit to be governed by his wife, i "Sou," said the old man, "you are but little acquainted with the world if you do not know ; that all women govern their husbands, though not all indeed by the same method; however, to end all disputes between us, I will put what I have said upon this to proof, if you are willing to try it. I have five horses in my stable ; you shall harness these to a cart, in whieh I will place a basket containing 100 eggs; and if, in passing through the country and making a strict iuquiry into the truth or falsehood of my assertion, and leaving a horse at the house of every mau who was master of his family him- , self, and an egg where the wife governs, you shall find your eggs gone before your horses, I hope that you will then think your own case not uncommon, but will be contented to I go home and look upon your own wife as no j worse than her neighbors, it, on tne otner hand, your horses are gone first, I will take 11 my daughter home again and you shall keep I, her fortune." |, This proposal was too advantageous to be I rejected. Our young married man therefore!" set out with great eagerness to get rid, as he j' thought, of his horses and his wife. At the first house he came to he heard a woman with ; a shrill and angry voice call to her husband 11 to go to the door. Here he left an egg, you ( may be sure, without making any further in- i 1 quiry. At the next house he met with some-; ( thing of the same kind, and at every house, j 1 in short, until his eggs were almost gone, when ; ; he arrived at the seat of a gentleman of fara- 1 ily and figure in the country. He knocked | at the door, and inquiring for the master of 1 the house, was told by a servant that his mas- j ter was not vet stirring, but if he pleased to ; 1 walk in, his lady was in the parlor. [ j The lady with great complaisance desired 11 him to be seated, aud said if his business was j! urgent she would wake her husband, but had I much rather not disturb him. "Why really,! ] madam," said he, "my business is only to ask | a question, which you can resolve as well as : your husband, if you will be ingenuous with '; me; you will doubtless think it odd, aud it I may be deemed impolite for any one, much i more a stranger, to ask such a question; but, ] as a wager depends upon it, and it may be 1 some advantage to yourself to declare the : 1 truth to me, I hope these considerations will 1 plead my excuse. It is, madam, my desire, ; to be informed whether you govern your hus- j 1 baud, or he rules over you." "Indeed sir," < replied the lady, "this question is somewhat 1 odd ; but as I think no one ought to be ashamed I of doing their duty, I shall make no scruple I to say that I am always proud to obey my < husband in all things; but if a woman's own I j word is to be suspected in such a case, let him 1 answer for me, for here he comes." The gentleman at this time entered the : room, and after some apologies, being made : acquainted with the business, confirmed every ; word his obedient wife had reported in her , own favor, upon which he was requested to choose which horse in the team he liked best; and to accept of it as a present. A black gelding struck the fancy of the ! gentleman most, but the lady desired he would | choose the gray mare, which she thought | would be very fit for her side-saddle; her | husband gave substantial reasons why the ! black horse would be the most useful to them, but madam still persisted in her claim to the gray mare. "What," said she, "and will you , not take her then ? But I say you shall, for ; I am sure the gray mare is much the better . horse." "Well my dear," replied the hus-; band "if it must be so?" "You must take , an egg," replied the gentleman caller, "and I must take all my horses back again, and en- j deavor to live happy with my wife.?New; York Observer. A PLEA FOR THE PARSONS. The eccentric Brooklyn preacher, Dr. Tal- i mage, recently deli verd a discourse on the some-, what novel theme, "Beefsteak for Ministers." j It is so capital a bit of humor and so practical \ withal, Uiat_we give it in full to our rea- j ders. Dr. Talraage said : There have been lately several elaborate ar-; ticles remarking upon what they call the lack of force and fire in the clergy. The world wonders i hat, with such a rousing theme as the Gospel, and with such a grand work as saving souls, the ministry should ever be nerveless. Some ascribe it to lack of piety, some to timidity of temperament. We believe that in a great number of cases it is from the lack of nourishing food. Many of the clerical brotherhood are on low diet. I After jackets and sacques have been provided j for the eight or ten children of the parson- j age, the father and mother must watch the j table with the severest economy. Coming in suddenly upon the dinner hour of the country clergyman the house-wife apologises for what she calls "a picked-up" dinner, when, alas ! it; is nearly always picked-up. Congregations sometimes mourn over dull ' preaching when themselves are to blame. J Give your minister more beef-steak and he i will have more fire. Next to the divine unc- j tion the minister needs blood; and he cannot j make that out of tough leather. One reason why the apostles preached so powerfully was i that they had healthy food. Fish was cheap j along Galilee, and this with unbolted bread, gave them plenty of phosphorus for brain food. These early ministers were never invited out to late suppers, with chicken, salad and doughnuts. Nobody ever embroidered slippers for the big foot of Simon Peter, the fisherman preacher. Tea parties, with hot waffles, at ten o'clock at night, make namby-pamby ministers; but good hours and substantial diet, that furnish nitrates for the muscle and phosphates for the brain, and carbonates for the whole frame, prepare a man for effective work. When the water is low the mill wheel goes slow ; with a full race how fast grists are grouud. In a man the arteries are the mill race, and the brain the wheel, and the practical work of life is the grist ground. The in onmn nf lin KqL iUUSUll UUl 0U1U1C13 1A11CU 1U OUUIV \jl uiv imv ties was because their stomachs had for several days been innocent of every thing but "hard-tack." See that your minister has a full haver-sack. Feed him on gruel during the week and on Sunday he will give you gruel. What is called the "parson's nose" in a turkey or fowl is an allegory setting forth that in many communities the minister comes out behind. Eight hundred or a thousand dollars for a minister is only a slow way of killing him, and is the worst style of homicide. Why do not the trustees and elders take a mallet or an axe, aud with one blow put them out of misery ? The damage begins in the college boardinghouse. The theological student has geuerally small means, and he must go to a cheap boarding house. A frail piece of sausage trying to swim across a river of gravy on fhe breakfast plate, but drowned at last; "l ie linked sweetness long drawn out" of flies in the molasses cup: the gristle of a tough ox, and a measly biscuit; and buckwheat cakes as tough as the cook's apron, and old peas in which the bugs lost their life before they had time to escape from the saucepan, and stale cucumbers cut up into small pieces of cholera morbus, are the provender out of which we are trying at Princeton and New Brunswick to make Sons of Thunder. Sons of Mush ! From such depletion we step gasping into the pulpit, and look so heavenly pale that the mothers in Israel are afraid we will evaporate before we get through our first sermon. Many of our best young men in preparation for the the ministry are going through this martyrdom. The strongest mind in our theological class perished, the doctors said afterwards, from lack of food. The only time he could afford a doctor was for his post mortem examination. I give the financial condition of many of our young theological students when I say: Tnmmo g'ioft 00 I Outgo?Board, at $3 per week (cheap place), 150 00 j Clothing (shoddy) 100 00 Books (no morocco) 25 00 I Traveling expenses 20 00 j Total $551 00 Here you see a deficit of fifty-one dollars. ! As there are no "stealings" in a theological ' seminary he makes up the balance by sell-; ing books or teaching school. He conies into | life cowed down, with a patch on both knee3 j and several other places, and a hat that has been done over four or five times, aud so , weak that the first sharp wind that whistles' round the corner blows hira into glory. The inertness you complain of in the ministry ; starts early. Do you suppose that if Paul had j 3pcnt years in a cheap boarding house, and the years after that in a poorly supplied parsonage, j he would have made Felix tremble! No! The first glance of the Komau procurator, would have made him apologize for intrusion, j Do not think that all your eight hundred dollar minister needs i3 a Christmas present of an elegantly bound copy of "Calvin's Insti- j tutes." He is sound already on the doctrine 1 of election, and it is a poor cousolation if in i this way you remind him that he has been fore-ordained to starve to death. Keep your minister on artichokes aud purslain, and he will be fit to preach nothing but funeral ser-1 tnons from the text "All llesh is grass."j While feeling most of all our need of the life j that comes from above, let us not ignore the fact that the clergy to-day need more gymnastics, more fresh air, more nutritious food. Prayer cannot do the work of beefsteak. You cannot keep a hot fire in the furnace with poor fuel and the damper turned. Various Talents Needed.?There is a strong disposition in men of opposite minds to despise each other. A grave man cannot conceive what is the use of a wit in society; a person who takes a strong, common-sense i niniu n? n enkianf ia for nil?)lillor mit. llV tllfi *iW? t* * -J I bead and shoulders, an ingenuous theorist, ivho catches at the lightest and faintest analo-! ;ies ; and another mau who scents the ridicu-' lous from afar, will hold no converse with him who tastes, exquisitely, the fine feelings of the : beart, and is alive to nothing else; whereas j :aleut is talent, and mind is mind in all its j i branches. Wit gives to life its best flavor; i :ommon seuse leads to immediate action, and j jivessociety its daily motion ; largo and com- i prehensive views its annual rotation; nuiuuiu chastises folly and imprudence, and keeps men in their proper sphere; subtlety seizes hold of the fine threads of truth; analogy darts away to the most sublime discoveries; feeling paints all the exquisite passions of a man's soul, and rewards him, by a thousand inward visitations, for the sorrows that come from without. God made it all! It is all good! We must despise no sort of talent; they all improve, exalt, and gladden life.?Sydney Smith. AX OUTRAGEDFATHER SPEAKS. A few days ago, the Reading (Pennsylvania) Eagle published an account of the trials and troubles of Joseph Warr, whose daughter is said to have eloped and married a colored man. The father of the girl inserts the following. Card to the Public.?I, Joseph Warr, of the city of Reading, of Anglo-Saxon blood, a native of Dudley, Staffordshire, England, in my 45th year, of good health, sound mind, and married twenty-four years, wish to make '' . .1 j t??u misstatement to me reauers ui mo <u ? .? matter of elopement of my daughter Mary Ann, not eighteen years of age, with Benjaman Dorsey, colored or negro. On or about the first of June, 1871, this insidious, pernicious, wretched vagabond, set his net to capture my fairest and eldest daughter, the pride of my heart, the flower of the family and the hope of my life. When this maroon-colored Hottentot, and curly-headed circular-saw-faced nigger first shadowed my door, he wore the look of innocence and appeared more like an angel than an imp of hell, which he really is. My daughter at first repelled his lascivious advances, and said "Get thee hence, Satan, I know you not," but like the serpent in the garden, he renewed his attacks, and while I was absent on business he managed, by the use of love powders, nail scrapings and other influences, by telling her he had money in Bushong's Bank and lands, that she was the idol of his heart, he succeeded in winning her to his stinking, slimy bosom. Finally the infernal nigger preacher and miscegenationist Underhill, acting nnder the inspiration and advice of the devil, and not having the fear of God or the law of man before his eyes, went through the hollow form of marriage. This unholy and bastard union took place in the cold and stormy month of January last, and now my daughter expects to have born unto her another greasy, dirty he or she nigger, for which I am twitted for being-the grand-father thereof, but before God I will never notice or own any unbleached, unwashed, flat-nosed, curly-headed piccaninny. I am a free white man, and always voted the Republican ticket, and I hereby assert that a day of retribution will come that will blast this ungodly and unhallowed union. May all the fiends of hell, in their wild agony, torment, tantalize, tease, tear up and destroy this follower of Beelzebub, Benjamin Dorsey. Joseph Warr. + ? THE SOCIAL GLASS. How very few of those who are in the habit of indulging in a social glass ever think of the dangers to which they are subjected! How many moderate drinkers are there in the country who think they will ever become common street drunkards? They are very scarce, we all know, yet we see and know how many drunkards there are and also know that every one of them was once a moderate drinker. And many a young man who can resist almost any thing else, cannot resist the invitation to take a drink. Why is it ? There must be something deeper in an invitation to take a glass than in anything else, as a man is too weak to resist temptation. The great trouble is that they think there is no harm in one glass. If you never drink the first glass there will be no temptation to try the second. It is a social evil, and one of immense power to do evil in our country. We know that it takes moral courage to stand up firmly and say, No, I will not drink; but you can do it if you will. And to you is recorded the privilege of showing that you can resist temptation if you will. Learn to resist the social glass; learn to say no, whenever the intoxicating cup is offered you, whether by the hand of some fair and beautiful young lady or by the dirty greasy hand of a bar-keeper. If you would shun the evils of intemperance, if you would live as a man should live, if you want to be a man, let the social glass alone. But if you would sink your manhood below the brute, if you would kill all qualities that go toward making up the true man, be a moderate drinker. If you want to be a common street drunkard a disgrace to yourself and family, and a stain upon the manhood of your country, partake of the social glass. If you would live a life of shame and die by that terrible disease, delirum tremens, be a moderate drinker.?Temple of Honor. + + How to Sleep.?With regard to sleep, the recumbent position has obviously very much to do with it. Undoubtedly, sleep may occur in the sitting posture, and even while standing; but these cases are exceptional. It is certain, also, that sleep in bed, as a rule, is sounder with 'a low pillow than a high one. If, then, there be a state of wakefulness at night, the head should be kept low; if, on the contrary, there is undue sleepiness, the head should be kept high, The degree of sleep and the amount of it may be regulated by simply taking care that the head is in the right position. If prolonged recumbency is a necessary part of the treatment, the tendency to sleep too much during the day, and too little at night, may thus be corrected. By raising the head in the daytime, the patient remains awake sufficiently to be able to sleep at night; by dressing the head at bedtime, the conditions are favorable to sleep during the night; and, as a rule, sleep is conciliated in this way, without the help of narcotics.?Dr. Badcliffe. A Puzzled Jury.?In one of the towns of Mississippi two colored men were arrested on the charge of burglary. The jury before whom they were tried were all colored. After the case was tried, they retired and made up a verdict, which was announced to the court. On being called, the judge asked for the verdict, which the foreman delivered as follows : "Dis jury find dat one of the 'cuse busted in de sto' and stole dat bacon, and de oder didn't do noffin." "Which one do you find guilty ?" asked the judge. "Dat's de question, boss," returned the foreman ; "dat's jes' what we can't fiud out, and we recemmend dat de honorable coat jes' have anoder trial, and find out which ob dem two niggers stole dat bacon." A Fable.?"The raillenium is come," said a lion to a lamb; "suppose you come out or that fold, and let us lie down together, as it has been foretold we should." "Been to dinner to day ?" inquired the lamb. "Not a bite of anything since breakast," was the reply, "except a few lean swine a saddle or two, and some old harness." "I distrust millenium," contined the lamb, thoughtfully, "which consists solely in our lying down together. My notion of that happy time is that it is a period in which pork and leather are not articles of diet, but in which every respectable lion shall have as much mutton as he can consume. However, you may [jo over yonder sunny hill and lie down until I come."