The ledger. [volume] (Gaffney City, S.C.) 1896-1907, August 04, 1898, Image 3
J
THE LEDGER: GAFFNEY, S. C., AUGUST 4, 1808.
THE WAY OF A MAID.
Mu' wn^ n in nil rt notion? sirnni^e
<'oncemins ninn.
Ili i fancn n took n goodly rnngc,
Ah vcman'ri run.
She f?id she loved nn eye of uray—
My own are hlue.
1 would I eould in any wry
Have changed their hue.
The mu of hair that pleusi d hi r hcsl
Was hrnwn, she said.
Which caused me oft supreme unrest—
My own is rid.
Her taste in “nose" was aquiline.
Oh, cruel rub!
In vulgar parlance one like mine
Is termed a snub!
She liked a stalely man end tall—
Alas, my fate
Has blc.-sud mo with u stature small
Not five feet eight.
She doted on a figure slim.
Without a douht
I could not satisfy that whim,
For I am stout.
And, knowing this, how eould I dare,
A boor like me,
To ask that maid her life to share—
My wife to be?
And yet I did! Egregious ass,
I must confess!
I popped the question, and, alas,
Bho answered, “Yes!”
—Sydney Bulletin.
A MAN'S PART.
• A boy and girl walked silently side
lay side down the long, winding path
tinder the trees. In the house behind
them the rest of the household were at
breakfast. They came at last to a wicket
leading into the lane. Me went through
and after a moment held it for her.
She went through and stood beside
him. Me looked down on her even ad
miringly. He despised girls; ho always
had despised them. They were useful
and' preferably beautiful, but compar
ed to men physically, mentally and
morally simply a negligible quantity.
But he had a prejudice in favor of her.
She was his own. This time yesterday
she had not been his own—except in
contemplation. He could recall now the
ridiculous feeling of unworthiness he
had had as he told her he loved her.
Mary drew her finger slowly down
the barrel of bis gun. '
^ “Poor little rabbits!” she said.
He had been on the point of again
mentioning the everlasting love and
protection he intended for her, together
with his conviction that she, and she
alone, could minister to his personal
comfort, but how could a man when a
girl said things like that?
“Nonsense!” lie said, and jerked his
gun away quite irritably.
Mary handed him his tin of sand
wiches and went half a step back to
ward the gate, and then turned again
and looked up at him. She had clear
eyes, like an undisturbed pool.
“What time shall you be back?” she
asked. Even her voice did not reproach
him.
“Oh, I don't know. Why?”
“We’re going to call on this new
bride and bridegroom honeymooning
down here.”
“But that has nothing to do with
me. ’ ’
“N-no.” She looked uncertainly up
the lane.
“Has it?”
“No.”
lie bent his head to kiss her, but did
not arrive at doing it.
“I thought—I thought,” said Mary,
“I thought perhaps if I wasn’t at homo
when you got back you’d bo disappoint
ed.”
“Well, I must come heme when I’ve
done, Mustn’t I?”
“Of course,” said Mary.
His gun was hocked in his left arm.
He put his right round Mary’s shoulder.
“When you are my wife,” he said,
“you will bo very glad for me to shoot
rabbits.” Ho put his hand under her
chin and lifted her face, and again the
feeling came over him that there was
something holy about Mary—something
ever so much better than himself Ho
kissed her hastily and straightened
himself, to realize in his superior inches
how all round superior he really was.
Mary’s finger was round his top but
ton. “Shall you always love me?” she
whispered. “It’s so wonderful!”
“Of course. How eau you ask such
absurd questions?”
“And you’ll never want to love any
body else?”
"When a man has once chosen, he
has chosen. It’s women who chop and
change about, and a man never ought to
forgive a woman who does.”
He embraced her again, much pleased
that he was able to do it without drop
ping his gun.
At high noon ho lay in the shade of
the trees and several small dead things
lay between him and his dog. He looked
up at the sky and wished Mary had hud
more sandwiches cut. She would have
to learn what a man’s appetite was,
and while ho thought of Mary and
while what lie had drunk from his flask
was still hot in his throat and half
way down under his waistcoat it seemed
to him that he loved her very much.
Probably no man had ever loved a girl
quite so much, and it was passing com
fortable to bo in love, but perhaps it
would be even more comfortable to be
married.
Then the warmnoss in his throat and
down under his waistcoat became a de
licious vagueness of ideas. He perceiv
ed that the sky was extremely blue up
there, and that the wind madeau agree
able sound among the leaves. He wished
Mary could have been there. Love, they
say, is a state of mind. He was in that
state of mind. Then he heard:
Light down, light down now, true Thoauw,
And lean your bond upon my km*»;
Abide and rest a little Hjmoo
And I will show you forllea throe.
He opened his eyes half way. They
were a tidy sort of birds in these woods,
and—snore.
Oh, nee you not yon narrow road,
8o tbloli bowit wl’ thorns and brloraT
That U the path of rightnotiMnow,
Though after It but tins- inquires.
, He opened his eyes wide. Was rome-
thing flame colored flashing through the (
lower brunches? Were thoM dancing
eyes turned on him and turned away !
again? Was the voice infinitely sweet, '
or—
And see you not yon bonnie road
That winds about the ferine brae?
That is the road to fair Klfiund,
Where thou and I this night maun gae.
He sat up. He looked all round. Was i
that a hand beckoning? He got up. His
deg got up too. “Lie still,” he said
ronghlj*, “and look after the things.”
He went a little way unconsciously.
A flame colored shape seemed to fly be
fore. He followed where it seemed to
fly, or’ was it a shaft of sunlight that
only appeared to fly, as the leaves moved
to and fro in tbb wind? It disappeared.
When it disappeared, ho knew it had
been there. He went faster and faster
after it. Suddenly from a clump of
hushes bright eyes looked out on him.
When' ho had wrenched his eager way
into and out of the clump, the shape
was far away in front. He saw her
small feet as she staid an instant to
loosen a branch of dog rose that held
he” dress.
_ jero was now no turning back. Still
ho pursued, and still she flew before.
All at once she leaned down over a
spring, ir do a cup of her hands and
drank. S shook the drops from her
fingers, locking l«ick at him—looking
straight but t him, and then she rose
up and danced away again. A thrill
ran all through him. There was a sud
den turn in his blood. Ho felt the first
faint stir of the world old desire to pur
sue and enjoy, and perhaps slay. He
tpok his ham out of his pocket and
walke d faster
On she went to the edge of the wood
and hesitat' d an instant on the brink
of the wide dit h.
“Now she is mine!” ho exulted.
Even as he thought it she stood on
the other side and turned and wived a
hand, and she smiled. After that things
were different. In his sun helmet and
shooting coat am' gaiters was a primeval
hunter. In the fl. me colored gown that l|gup(jriority of man.
“Do yon lovo me?” If he died, he
must ask that.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I will iMft love you.”
“Love me,” ho cutreated, “or kill
me. 1 ’
“I will not love you.”
He pat liis arms around her waist
and strained them till she breathed in
pain. “Will you not love me?”
“I will not love you.”
He lifted his head and kissed her.
I “Now you are a man,” she said.
“And you will love me?”
“I will not love you. But you may
love me—fur an hour.”
When the sun had moved the shadows
! of the leaves nn hour’s space fartln r to-
| ward the east, a voice came calling
; through the wood.
“That is my husband,” she said,
I “calling me.”
His arms droppe d away from her.
“Your husband?”
“My husband.” She turned her head
on his shoulder and laughed up at him.
“How long have you been married?”
! “A whole week.”
“And”—
“And you’re the first other man I’ve
i seen. Happy you! A whole week!”
| He sprang up, so that she fell on to
the ground. He hoped she was hurt. Ho
| heard her mocking laugh ring on the air
: as he clove his furious way through the
j trees. lie was afraid she was not hurt.
On and on he went, stumbling, cursing,
j blind. The bushes aud branches crashed
! as he passed The birds and small crea
tures flew from before him.
Hours afterward he stumbled over
something in his path. It was his gun,
I lying in the wet grass, with the little
dead rabbits stretched beside it. Ho
thought he had never seen that gun be
fore, never shot those rabbits. His dog
i got stiffly up and wagged a numb, for-
| giving tail.
He remembered Mary—and the proud
THE ALBINO BEAVER. Ad
THIS FREAK OF NATURE ONE Or THE
RAREST OF ANIMALS.
A R^nchinnn’s Stcrr of Why
Reavers Fell Tree* and Ruilil Dams.
The Value of the Little Animals to the
Cattlemen of Montana.
last year had noi dreamed of was the (
only spoil worth more than the fiercest
lion or the fattest hind.
Along in the shade of the trees where j
the grass was still dew wet he saw only i
her. Coming noai r and nearer he fol- i
lowed. She stooped to her knees, kissed [
a lamb she had surprised asleep, looked ;
once more behind at him, swiftly rose ’
aud fleeted on. Ho had caught her. No. i
Once more she sprang across tne ditch i
and was gone from his sight into the 1
wood. With a cry of disappointment J
and rage he sprang after her—sprang 1
and stumbled m his haste and fell and |
hurt himself. When he hurt himself, i
he remembered Mary. With hanging
head and strange, wild feelings surging !
in him he tore himself up and went on. ;
Nothing round him but green. As he |
went ho snapped the twigs with Ins
hands, aud when anything lay in his j
path ho set his heel on it aud ground
his teeth.
In the thickest part of the wood, in a
small clearing, at last he saw her. She
lay against the big roots.of a tree, and
the sunlight hurried backward and for
ward over her.
He was not thinking of Mary now’.
He went-straight up to her and threw
himself on the grass beside her. She lay
still, her chin resting in her hand, her
elbow on a thrown up root, still pant
ing. She did not look at him, aud she
did nut speak. Her eyes bad never
moved.
After a long time, “ Why did you fol
low me?” she asked.
“You know,” ho said, “ ‘the road to
fair Elfiaud. ’ ” And ho nodded stu-
pidly.
Ho was dimly aware that the eyes
were all at once turned on him and
that some way beneath them there ran
a curving, uncertain lino of red through
which she spoke.
“Why did you follow me?” she said
again.
He had nothing to say.
“Why?” she asked.
“You know why!”
Her other hand lay in the grass. He
put his near it. She did not take it
away. A burning heat, a shivering cold,
possessed him as she still gazed at him
and still said:
“Why?”
He buried his face in the grass. He
could not speak. There was nothing to
say. He longed to do something, but
there was nothing he cou’d do. A little
mocking laugh rang in his ears. For
shame he eould not lift up his head.
“Boy!”
“I am no boy!” he cried. His eyes
were wet as he flung up his head aud
faced her. “I”—
“You what?” She gathered grass and
flung it lightly in his face.
His cheeks flamed.
“I could crash you with one hand
and put out your little life. Do you
think you could withstand my strength
for one moment. You have no muscles
and sinews—like a man. I could com
mand you and make yon obey me—be
cause, after all, you’re only a woman!”
He threw buck his head and burned
her with his young eyes.
“You would follow me to the world's
end, though your hand never so much
as touched my hand. To kiss mo once
you would die because I am a woman. ”
He sank slowly down and down, his
eyes never leaving hers.
“For me you would give your life,
for mo you would do the basest deed,
for me you would sell your soul, because
I am a woman. ”
Ho was like a candle slowly shrink
ing in a great heat. Insensibly he drew
nearer and nearer, till at last he lay at
her feet gazing, dumbly gazing up at
her. She smiled. She smiled the soul
out of him, smiled till there was no
more will, no more thought, no more
memory in him.
His lips moved. “I love you.”
“For how long?”
“Forever. ”
“And nobody else?”
“And nobody else?”
“In the whole world?'*
“In the whole world.”
His head fell down on her kneee.
t thought he swooned.
Slowly ho went homeward in the
dusk. His head hung low, his gun he
hardly held. To be unworthy of Mary’s
slightest regard! Mary’s, whoso eyes
should forever have waited on him, her
Jord and her god.
A light step came near and stopped.
He looked up. Mary stood there in
white from head to foot. She held up
her face. Ho did not kiss her.
“You are so late, and 1 was so fright
ened! What was it?”
Silently he took the rabbits out of his ;
pocket and showed them to her. One (
fell to the ground, and ho left it there.
“All day! Only killing?”
He looked at her.
“Mary”—
“Yes, dear.” She held out her hand.
He hesitated, and at last took it. “I
am so glad to have you back! It seems
sillv now to have been frightened.”
“Mary”—'
“Yes, clear. You’re tired, aren't
you?” she said. “So am I. Wo drove
all those miles, and then the bride was
not at home. ”
• ••••••
Suddenly he turned on her.
“Mary,” he said fiercely, “have you
ever loved any man but me?”
Her eyes looked up into his. They
were clear, like a pool.
“I should not dare to offer you my
love if I had,” she said simply.
“And I should never forgive you if
you did,” he said from between his
teeth. “No womaii must love twice.”
“And a man?” she said idly and with
no mind to dispute, whatever the an
swer might lx*. “And a man?”
He was silent.—Constance Cottercll
in Sketch.
The Value of Sport.
The nation which governs almost
one-fourth of the earth’s population,
and upon the whole governs well,
spends over $.200,000,000 annually upon
sport, and has invested in the same way
an even greater sum. Perhaps there is
no higher test of a man’s all round abil
ities than his power to govern wisely.
At any rate it is a truth to be borne in
mind in this connection that the govern
ing races today are races of sportsmen.
The people who play games are inherit
ing the earth, perhaps because it makes
them meek. As a matter of fact, wo
think it does just that among other
things.
The French do not play games, and
Mr. Benjamin Kidd lias shown how
the population of France is steadily de
creasing, the deaths having outnumber
ed the births there foi several years
past. The Spaniards do not play games,
and travelers in and students of Spain
and the Spanish agree that their two
most salient characteristics are over
weening personal pride aud cruelty.
The Chinese despise unnecessary physic
al exercise, ami cun scarcely be driven
to fight, even for tboir country.—
Outing.
Done Muzzle*.
The muzzle occasionally scon on a
horse in the Street is to keep the animal
from biting. But muzzles are ordinarily
used on horses in their stalls to keep
them from eating their bedding, and
they are most commonly used on run
ning and (rotting horses in training.
These horses are trained with great
care, and it is important that they shall
eat only the food that is provided for
them. Horse muzzles are made of wire
and leather. More muzzles of wire than
of leather are sold, the wire muzzle be
ing the cheaper. A wire muzzle can be
bought for 75 cents. The most expensive
muzzle costp $4. It is handsomely made
of fine materials, and in called a box
muzzle—not on account of its shape,
but because it is likely to be used in a
horse that is kept iu a box stall.—Now
York Sun.
He
Stationary.
“Who wrote of the sew*« ae«i of
man, Johnny?”
“William Shakespeare.”
“And are there seven ages of wom
an?”
”1 guess so, but she sticks by one of
’em all the time.”—Harper's Bazar.
“I believe I am <lie only white per
son that ever trappi d or killed an adult
albino beaver,” said Thomas Gilroy, an
ex-rauchn:an of Montana. “Albino
beavers an* the rarest of animals, and
the only specimens I ever saw besides
the one I trapped wen* two cubs captur
ed by an Indian on Wind river more
than :10 years ago. There were four
young beavers in the nest this Indian
secured, and two of them were black.
The mother of the litter was captured
with them, and she was black. There is
another very rare beaver in the north
west region. This is the golden beaver,
bearing the choicest of all fur. The
golden beaver is almost as rare as the
white beaver, the albino being merely
a freak of nature, while the golden
beaver is a species. This beaver was not
known in this country until about 1S80,
when the first specimen was discovered
in the Mink river region.
“I wasn’t iu the trapping business
when I caught the albino beaver, or per
haps I wouldn’t have had the chance to
bag him and the 84 others I got with
him. I had heard a good many wonder
ful stories about how beavers chopped
down trees, and, being anxious to sco
how far from the truth some of these
stories were, I found where beavers
were at work in a piece of cedar woods
through which a branch of tho Wind
river flowed. I chose a bright moon
light night to watch the beavers at their
tree chopping. I hid myself before night
fall near tho spot.
“Soon after nightfall a beaver came
out of the water, went straight to aj
good sized cedar tree and began wor
at it with his teeth without a moment’
delay. While he was at work anothe
beaver appeared from the river, and a
he drew himself out of the water to th
bank where tho moon shone full upo;
him I saw that lie was as white u|
snow. The white beaver selected a tre|
and went vigorously to work felling i
I don’t believe a woodchopper with h
ax could have felled those trees ani
quicker than those beavers did wit|
their chiselliko teeth.
“Long before I had come into pe
sonal contact with the beaver I h
read iu the books that tho beavers bu
dams for the purpose of making a swi
ming and fishing pond. After I beg
taking an interest in beavers I for.
that the book explanation was us rid
uloua as it was lackfng iu fact. I fou
that the beaver does not eat fish or fl
of any kind, but subsists entirely
tender roots aud barks, which are pi
tiful during tho summer, but ceasi
provide nutritious or hunger allij
qrr.lities whey tho cold season i
hand, so the beaver builds dams to
vide against the pinch of hunger du:
the winter. The instinct of the be;
teaches him that these substances
merged in water will keep green, f:
and nutritious all winter long,
selects a spot where this food g
abundant near tho shores and dam
stream so that the water will be 1
back over the young willows and as
and cottonwoods and held there,
the bark on them is kept soft, juicj
tender, and the beaver has his stc
nutritious food to draw upon all
long. If there is no growth of
woods convenient for overflowing
beaver cuts down willows, cottoni
or aspens—the cottonwood heinj
favorite—floats tliem to tho dam,]
them to the bottom, fixes them
below the freezing depth, and
as fresh atrd tender as if tliej
growing on the hanks and quickei
the spring sunshine and rains.
“As to tho colony of beavers thl
attracted my attention, I watcheif
its dam building, in the course
tho beavers chopped down a gc
cedar trees. That was all very ii
ing and instructive, but it wasn’
itable to tho owner of tho timber,]
agent I was, aud, as my chief dut
the quest of timber thieves, I com]
that here were some well worth 1c
after, and I resolved to break
colony without delay. By ir
among the trappers I learned soimj
about how they went to work td
beavers, and I set five traps in thJ
ony’s pond. I caught a beaver in|
trap seven consecutive nights,
last beaver I caught was tho hi
one. I sold the albino to au
tourist for $40 in gold.
“The share I took iu the work!
populating the northwest of the f
after that was considerable, but
got into the cattle business I wa
aud would gladly have given
ery dollar I received for their
and it would have made a big
I could have put tho beavers bacli
for I found that, although tho
wasn't worth as much as a fat
money, there wasn’t a cattle^
Montana that wouldn’t give up
steer in his herd to save the 1|
beaver any day in the year, just
tho beavers were dam builders. |
wonderful instinct of the beivt
interest tho ranchmen a little
had they any sentiment iu their j
to protect the beaver. But wat
constant necessity on tho cattl
in tho dry climate of Montana
ly, where tho streams and wat
are few and far between. Thg
more beavers in Montana—u
are yet porhapa—than anywbe
the United States. By build!
dams wherever they might
the water supply to bo hoard^
oonld bo in no other way.
suited tho cattlemen, and to
while any other game or fnr|
animal may be exterminated
dissenting voice from them,
is assured of the friendship «
lion of the ranchmen. ”—For
Press.
ui