Cameron County press. (Emporium, Cameron County, Pa.) 1866-1922, July 18, 1901, Page 6, Image 6

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    6
LIFE'S LESSON.
Tla but folly and madness to sit down in
sadness, -
And sigh for the past when the future Is
ours;
Though the way may be dreary, and the
heart faint and weary,
j We may list for the bird songs and look
for the flowers.
tt Is true there are hours when bird songs
and flowers
i Would mock with their beauty and
brightness our gloom:
When to ease the heart's ae'ning, we would
welcome its breaking,
To gain thus the stillness and rest of the
tomb.
Whon springing all 'round us are sharp
thorns that wound us.
And many the pitfalls that lie In our way:
When over life's meadows hang fierce,
threatening shadows.
And Hope's beacon sheds not one glim
mering ray.
But the dark clouds that over life's fair
meadows hover
May be freighted with blessings and melt
soon to rain;
While the sun's brighter shining will
shame our repining.
And the landscape stands out in its glad
ness again.
Tho' life hath its losses, Its cares and Its
crosses.
The loss and the cross may still be for
our best,
And each homely duty hold some hidden
beauty,
E'en by labor we learn the sweet mean
ing of rest.
Thus by pain may we measure the worth of
each pleasure—
We value our wealth by the wants we
have known;
And joy alter sorrow, by contrast we bor
row
A completeness and sweetness fuller e'en
than its own.
♦-Alice R. Corson, in Minneapolis House
keeper.
HARR^T^Yv'ELL^gD*
Copyright, 1599, by J. B. Lipplncott Com
pany. All rights reserved.
CHAPTER X III. —CONTINUED.
Holbin had heard of Frances* latest
whim, the union soldier. He had not
interested himself in the hitter's wel
fare, but he made liis appearance in
the wingroom ou the day after Louise
had been pacified, and, finding only
mammy there with the wounded man,
he entered and engaged him in cheer
ful conversation. He gave him the
latest news from the front, and sup
plied him with cigars. Responding to
these attentions, the soldier readily
told his story. When the name of Rich
ard Soiners, his former enemy, was
reached, Holbin was visibly excited.
Still, not for one instant did it occur
to him to connect the presence of the
wounded man in that room with the
fact that Somers was his captain; and
the soldier himself naturally took it
for granted that the cause of his pres
ence was well understood by all.
Frances found Holbin there, and
stood silently resentful upon the
threshold until he had explained his
visit.
"I am told by the clerk in the de
partment," he said, "that you had
secured a pass for your protege, and 1
was repentant that you had been
forced to ge there in person. I have
called now to offer my assistance.
There is something else to be done for
t wounded man besides getting liim
a pass. He must have transportation
and assistance generally."
"I have been thinking of that," she
admitted, troubled.
"If I may be allowed to do a wound
ed enemy a service," said Holbin, "I
shall take him in my buggy to our
outposts."
"1 am sure that he will be greatly
obliged." The soldier expressed him
self grateful, and IlolbirT went away,
making light of the service and with
out further effort to trespass upon the
girl's rare mood. On the inner stair
be paused in deep thought, his dark
face savagely triumphant. His moth
er met him in the hall above and
read excitement in his every move
ment.
"What is it, Raymond?" He hesi
tated and smiled wickedly.
"I am afraid even you would be
shocked, mother mine. Hut trust me,
when I do tell you about it, you will
not be ashamed of your cub."
"Raymond, how dare you?" The
woman's face grew crimson, and then
white as from a sudden terror. He
showed his teeth and disappeared be
fore she could stop him. Angry and
uneasy, she sought her own room.
The wounded soldier rode next day
wit.h Raymond Holbin, his pale face
reflecting the light of liberty's sun
riot yet risen for him, his blue uni
form dusted and cleaned until every
button was as of gold.
"Good-by, miss," he said; "I'll de
liver your message, an' I know the
cap'n 'll be a proud man to see me
back!" He offered mammy his last
greenback, but it was indignantly re
fused, witnesses being present.
"Dat green money ain't no good
down here nohow."
"It will be," said the soldier, sim
ply-
Holbin returned next day and gave
a vivid account of his parting with
the happy prisoner; and then he im
mediately sought his own room; but
not before Frances, a little ashamed
of herself, had thanked him warmly
for his kindness to her soldier.
tTpon the same day the confederate
relief picket found a federal soldier
lying dead within their lines. He
he.(l been shot from behind with a
pistol held so close to his coat that
it was burned by the powder. The
tffair afforded but a few minutes'
discussion, for the explosion of fire
arms was almost incessant at times,
and dead men in June, 1862, were
plentiful around Richmond. The only
part of the mystery worth consider
ing from the military standpoint was
bow th* Uiau got through the lines at
that particular place. A watch taken
from his body contained the names of
Capt. Richard Somers and the regi
ment to which he was attached, and
also the likeness of an elderly wom
an. It was surmised that the victim
of the pistol shot was a deserter and
robber; that he had been captured
and. killed while attempting' violence
or an escape. The officer into whose
possession the watch drifted was in
charge of a burial party next day un
der a flag- of truce, and, learning that
Capt. Somers was among the troops
opposite, sent the watch to him with
a courteous explanation. The grati
fication of Capt. Soiners was only
equaled by his bewilderment. Many
weeks before he had intrusted the
jewel to his faithful artilleryman, and
thi.s soldier, he had been assured, was
left dead upon the bloody battlefield.
His conclusion was that some one had
robbed the body at that time and
had been overtaken by fate while en
gaged in some other nefarious enter
prise. But when Capt. Somers cas
ually opened the loeket and found
therein a long, slender curl of red
dish-golden hair and on the narrow
ribbon with which it was tied the
name "Frances," he was involved in
a hopeless mystery. He was within
sound of the lliclimond church bells
that morning, and between the inter
vals of fighting and moving to new
positions he had already in imagina
tion entered that city. The name
thus sent was the only tidings of
Frances he had ever received, and it
made him a sadly happy man.
CHAPTER XIV.
Locked within his own room, Ray
mond llolbin drew from his pocket the
packet of papers taken by him from
the murdered man with the official
order for which he had committed the
crime. The order read: "Pass the
bearer, Thomas Riley, paroled prison
er, through the lines." "It will not
do Loiuse much g-ood, anyway," he
said, "even were I disposed to give it
to her." The name "Martha Somers"
upon the sealed packet attracted his
attention, and he recognized in a Dela
ware address beneath the home of
Richard Somers. He remembered then
the dead soldier's description of the
battle in which he was wounded, and
guessed that the packet contained the
papers given to him to deliver. llolbin
would hardly have troubled himself to
wade through a score of farewell pages
from a soldier to his mother, and would
have promptly destroyed the whole
collection, but that the remaining en
velope. addressed to Richard Soiners.
lay before him, and upon it his eye
caught the Brookin crest.
"This is very different," he said to
himself with interest. "Let lis see
what Frances has to say to the fellow."
He broke the seal and read:
"I send you back, well and free, the
man who saved your life; X found him
grievously wounded—a prisoner. It is all
that I have been able to do in return for
your kindness to me, a stranger, and for
the wound you received in my house. Think
me not indelicate when I say that the
sweetest memory my heart carries is in
the memory of your face beneath the
match that night and of the words
'Frances, my wife,' which you have en
graved in your locket, and over which I
have placed a message to you. Forgive me;
it can never mutter much, for a sea of blood
rolls between us. Good night. God be
with you till we meet—in Heaven.
"FRANCES."
Holbin sat gazing blankly upon the
lines. His head was in a whirl.
"Her husband! her husband!
Pshaw!" he exclaimed with an uneasy
laugh, springing to his feet and begin
ning to walk the floor, "this conies of
the damnable work out yonder to-day;
my nerves are simply unstrung." He
took a bottle from his dresser, poured
out a stiff drink, and tossed it off with
one gulp. Then he went back to his
k g SMjUr
t|| mm
THE CONFEDERATE PICKET FOUND
A FEDERAL. SOLDIER LYING DEAD
WITHIN THEIR LINES.
table and. picking up the letter, read
aloud: "wound received in my house"
—"your face beneath the lighted
match." As he stood thus the letter
slipped from his hand. "Louise!" he
whispered, "the r.;an whom Louise
shot!" Not in all the vicissitudes of
his wild career had Holbin received
such a shock of surprise. His mind,
dazed and bewildered, could not ar
range a deduction beyond the discov
ery that Richard Somers was the man
around whom so much of mystery had
gathered, and that Frances referred to
him in the tender word "husband." He
laid his hand upon the bell-cord and
hesitated; then his wicked smile came
back again as he pulled it.
"Tell your mistress I shall be glad if
she will favor me with her presence
here," he said to William. When, a
few minutes later. Mrs. Hrookin came
into the room he failed to hear her.
"What is it, Raymond?" she asked.
He roused himself and spoke rapidly.
"Frances got her bounded soldier a
pass through our lines, and to please
her I carried him to the front. After
he left me I'found these papers in the
buggy where he had dropped them.
The fellow's captain is Richard
Somers."
"Richard Somers!"
"And now, madam, read the note
1 from Frances to him and let me con
, gratulate you upon—"
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, JULY 18, 1901.
She read it rapidly, and when her
atna»<d face was lifted lie added':
"L'aur son-in-law."
"I do not understand! What does
it mean?"
"Answer that question for me. moth
er; my head has ceased to be of any
assistance. Undoubtedly, however, the
woman who you lead me to believe gave
you her promise to marry me some day
is already in point of law Richard
Somer's wife and has forfeited her
right to any part of her father's es
tate. Madam, fortune favors the bold;
I congratulate you!" His manner be
trayed au intense excitement and bit
terness.
"Wait, wait!" said the woman, qui
etly, her eyes riveted upon the letter.
"It seems that he was her husband
that night. Was not that, night prior
to the signing of the will?"
"Yes, the night before." The son,
looking upon his mother's face, eould
find no evidence of satisfaction there.
It was ghastly. "Why, what is it
now?"
"A stronger will and a clearer head
than we imagined has been at war with
us. I do not know the law, but they
were trying to defeat the will in ad
vance. It does defeat it in some way,
or our enemies would not have taken
the risk. If Frances were really mar
ried before the will was signed, she
cannot comply with its requirements,
and the law will not demand an impos
sibility."
"Well!" lie bent forward, his voice
reduced to a whisper.
"We have lost, you and I. Except
for my pittance, we shall be. beggars
upon the day that Frances conies of
age; and that day is near at hand."
A long silence followed, and then the
eyes of mother and son met.
"I>o you not share alike if the will
fails?"
"No. The intention of my husband
will be operative; only the condition
fails. There is no hope that way." liis
mother looked from him and spoke
slowly.
"Is there no remedy?" he asked.
"Yes. If Richard Somers is not liv
ing when Frances comes of age, or
should Frances —"
"Mother, mother, take care!" The
words burst in sudden energy from the
wretched man. "Lift a hand to harm
but one hair of her head, and, by the
Mother of God —"
"ilush! Hush!" she said, quietly.
"You love her; that is enough. She is
safe."
"Swear it."
"Read the other letter," she said,
disregarding him. "It is likely that a
man would mention his wife in his last
letter to his mother." Raymond
stripped off the envelope and shook
two letters to the table. One. unsealed,
was addressed to Mrs. Martha Somers.
"Nothing but gush," he said, running
his eye hurriedly over the lines. Mrs.
Brookin had picked up the other, which
was addressed to Dr. Brodnar.
"We are getting to the heart of the
mystery," she said. "Head this one."
Raymond read in silence first, and
then, leaning forward, excitedly read
aloud:
"Goto the girl I married at your request
and say death has dissolved the bond.
Break the news to her as gently as pos
sible, for I have been vain enough to be
lieve that the child loves me. You pre
pared the way by your partiality, and her
loneliness and excess of gratitude accom
plished the rest. Let me confess that I
have been foolish enough to love her and
to dream that some day you would permit
me to return and openly seek her out. But
this cursed war has killed my dream, Brod
nar, and if this letter reaches you, it will
be after it has killed your friend also! Go
to her and say that since he met her Rich
ard Somers has loved her as a man loves
but once."
There were other lines dealing with
the friendship between the two men
while in Paris and containing a tender
farewell.
"'lt is now plain to me," he said. "The
meddlesome scoundrel Brod.nar is the
author of the whole plot!" Mrs. Brook
in folded the letters into their places.
Her hands were without a tremor.
"Let them keep their secret. To in
form them is to arm them. We will
continue to be—their dupes. Richard
Soiners may not be living when Fran
ces reaches twenty-one; who can tell?
The man who lost those letters has, I
suppose, ere this made a full report."
"Thtunian who lost the letters, moth
er, has reported elsewhere with a bul
let through his heart."
"Raymond!"
"What docs it matter? We are kill
ing them in front of our lines every
day. One behind counts for little. He
had a pass; I needed it.l need it now
more than ever." The woman's face
glowed with a sudden light.
"You are too rash, my boy; take no
steps before consulting me. In the
meantime these papers have no value
for us. Burn them, burn them now!
But no! give me the letter to Brod
nar; it may be valuable some day as
evidence that Richard Somers is
dead." One by one Holbin held the
others over lighted matches and saw
them vanish into cinders. His moth
er placed her hand upon his shoulder.
"Raymond, you are again planning
to cross the lines—"
"I know what I am doing! Do not
seek to influence me."
"What do you mean?"
"There is no time for explanation,
nor is there any need, for you already
understand. It is sufficient to say
that I am going across the lines for
more than one purpose now."
"There are all sorts of people in
an army," she said; "I have seen it
stated that many officers killed in
battle are shot from behind."
"That is one," he replied, "and men
who serve their country in time of
war are forgiven many things. 1 am
in possession of that which will se
cure for me a review of my case ar.d
restore to me my commission. I have
offered my sword to the confederacy
once; the next time 1 will offer it
point first!"
"You have valuable information for
sale. Is that what you mean? Go
slow upon that line; if you draw your
sword against Virginia openly you
sacrifice all interests here. Better be
a friend to both sides, and when yon
come back with proofs that Richard
Somers is really dead all may yet
be well. If she is free at 21 the will
is binding, even if it were held that
she has not already sacrificed her in»
terest."
"Come what may," he said, pas
sionately, "while I live Brodnar shall
never see Frances Hrookin the wife
in truth of Richard Somers."
"Nor while I live," said his mother;
"there is my hand upon it."
"Keep out of it, mother, keep out,
or you will regret it!" said the
wretched man.
"Ungrateful boy! Where is your
promise? Do you repudiate that?
Have you forgotten your danger?"
"No, but she shall not suffer at
your hands. Leave her to me. And,
mother, if you ever find us dead to
gether in that room downstairs, have
no thought of me. The man who has
neither love nor revenge has noth
ing to live for." He seized his hat and
rushed from her presence.
[To Be Continued.]
HE WAS A MIGHTY RICH MAN.
Hot III* Wealth Cunxlated In Never
Online Anyone a
Cent.
A gentleman recently took a ride
with an old New England farmer
through one of the pretty little vil
lages that are common in that region,
during which some of the men in tho
neighborhood came under criticism,
says the Chicago Times-Herald.
Speaking of a prominent man in the
village, the traveler asked: "Is he a
man of means?"
"Well, sir," the farmer replied, "he
hasn't got much money, but he's
mighty rich."
"He has a great deal of land, then?"
was asked.
"No, sir, he hasn't got much land,
either, but he is mighty rich."
The old farmer, with a pleased smile,
observed his companion's puzzled look
for a moment and then explained:
"You see, he hasn't got much money
and he hasn't got much land, but still
he is rich because he never went to
bed owing a man a cent in all his life.
He lives as well as he wants to live,
and he pays as he goes. He doesn't
owe anything, and he isn't afraid of
anybody. He tells every man the
truth, and does his duty by himself, his
family and his neighbors. His word is
as good as his bond, and every man,
woman and child in the town looks up
to him and respects him. No, sir, he
hasn't got much land, but he's a
mighty rich man, because he's got all
he wants."
The I.nnd of Clientnnta.
The home of chestnuts is in
France, where an enthusiastic ad
mirer declares that they are "as
common as beans in Boston." On
such an extensive scale are they cul
tivated that one factory in Lyons
handles over 25,000,000 pounds every
year. The "marrons" are of cou»se
the great luxury, but among the
poorer classes the smaller chestnuts,
or "schataignes," are eaten. The
United States consul at Lyons, John
C. Covert, visited a large chestnut
factory which employs 250 women
and girls. The chestnuts are peeled
and boiled and placed for three days
in a vanilla sirup; then they are
drained, coated thinly with vanilla
and prepared for shipment. Mr.
Covert is anxious that Amcj-ica
should go extensively into chestnut
growing, and believes that as sugar
is 50 per cent, cheaper here than in
France, the candied product would
soon undersell the French article.
However, as marron trees do not
yield profitably till they are ten
years old, Mr. Covert admits tha
there is no immediate prospect of a
reduction io the price of the candied
nuts.—Youth's Companion.
Qnrer South African Untile.
A traveler in South Africa tells of
a queer battle he once witnessed. He
was musing, with his eyes on the
ground, when he noticed a caterpillar
crawling along, followed by hundreds
of small ants. Being quicker in their
movements, the ants would catch up
with the caterpillar, and one would
mount his back and bite him. Paus
ing, the caterpillar would turn his
head, and bite the ant and thus kill
the tormentor. After slaughtering a
dozen or more of his persecutors, the
caterpillar showed signs of fatigue,
and the ants then made a combined
attack. Betaking himself to a stalk
of grass, the caterpillar climbed up,
tail first, followed by the ants. As
each one approached, he seized it in
his jaws, and threw it off the stalk.
The ants, seeing that the caterpillar
had too strong a position for them
to overcome, resorted to strategy.
They began sawing through the grass
stalk. In a few minutes the stalk fell,
and the entire force of ants pounced
upon the caterpillar, killing it at once.
The Queen and Her EnglUh,
The shy and retiring disposition of
Hawthorne has often been commented
on. Yet on occasion he could be quite
as clever with his tongue as with his
pen.
It happened in England. Mr. Haw
thorne was a guest at a formal din
ner given to one of the foreign ambas
sadors. The conversation had turned
upon an autograph letter of the queen,
which happened to be very clumsily
expressed.
"What do you think of the queen's
letter, Mr. Hawthorne?" he was asked.
The man of letters was perplexed,
but he replied that it showed very kind
feeling.
"No," persisted the wicked inter
rogator, "but what do you think of the
style?"
Mr. Hawthorne was equal to him.
"The queen has a perfect right to do
as she pleases with her oivn English,"
he replied—forward.
IN FAR-OFF LABRADOR.
Car Hunter* In That Country Who
Iluve JuMt Heard of the l)eulh
of liurcu Victoria.
Reports are reaching civilization of
the operations of the past winter in
the interior and upon the coast of
Labrador. The season was, generally
speaking, a mild one, and the fatali
ties among the Indians fewer than
usual, a good supply of furs was se
cured, but none of such peculiar value
as some of those taken during the
preceding winter, says the New York
Sun.
The highest price paid for a single
skin of last winter's catch was S3OO,
which was for a black silver fox, the
king of all the fur-bearing animals of
Labrador. Exactly double that amount
was paid for a skin of the same va
riety, a very noble specimen, about a
ABDUL HAMID 11., SULTAN OF TURKEY.
This picture, taken from the New York Journal, Is a reproduction of what is
said to be the only likeness of the sultan made In recent years, the pictures of hir*
formerly published having shown him only as a young man. The sultan is indeed;
an old man now. He suffers acutely and will not take anaesthetics to ease his
pain. Suspicious, cruel, vindictive, lustful of power, Abdul Hamid 11. awaits an
end that—whether by revolution or assassination or by the action oi heart-disease—
must come, it seems, in a short time. He is well aware of this condition, anil
awaits his end with trembling fear.
year ago. Prices in general are
scarcely so good at present as they
were this time last year.
Marten skins, which have brought
as much as $25 a skin, sold this spring
for from sls to $lB. Traders are es
pecially proud of the otters and
minks which they obtain from Lab
rador, which have fur of a peculiar
fineness and luster.
The hunters from the interior of
Labrador had not heard of the death
of Queen \ictoria xintil they emerged
from the woods a few days ago. No
mail matter can reach them during
the winter. Even the residents along
the coast had only six mails from
autumn till spring, and these had to
be conveyed over the snow by dogs,
on sleighs, for want of proper roads
and other means of conveyance.
Veritable Lion* Inn Snlon,
At the Comtesse de Greffelliu's re
ception at Paris, when the music and
singing had ended, two young lions
entered the saloon dragging a car
MOTOR BOATS ON THE DEAD SEA.
The Dead sea, which for thousands of years has been a forsaken solitude In
the midst of a desert, on whose waves no rudder has been seen for centuries, is
soon to have a line of motor boats. Owing- to the continued increase in traffic and
the influx of tourists a shorter route between Jerusalem and Kerak, the ancient
capital of the Moabltes, is desired, and German capitalists and merchants, who con
trol the trade of that section, have determined to place a number of little steamers
on the Dead sea. The boats will be about 100 feet in length, and carry 35 passen
gers and all kinds of freight.
decked with lilies and roses. It is a
remarkable fact that they frightened
nobody, but called forth the guests'
unanimous applause. They were
brought recently to France by Prince
d'Arenburg, who was participating in
the Paris-Berlin race and did not
witness their triumph.
The Vnlue of Shocked Nerves.
According to a legal decision in the
Vienna courts "shuck to the nerves"
constitutes a serious accident, writes
a Vienna correspondent. A passenger
on a local line claimed damages,
which were awarded him, for a shock
to his nerves, caused by the conductor
shouting out to the passengers to
jump off the car as he feared a col
lision.
Need llitsh I»ltl«liiin.
Some people are always willing to
do as they are bid, if the bid is high
enough.—Puck.
THE NEW ENGLAND WOMAUT.
Not « I'rrpunanalnii Figure in ODU
line or .Motion, According to
Tbla Writer.
In body she belongs to a people
which lias spent its physical force,
and lacks vitality, says Kate Steph
ens, in Atlantic. She is slight. There
is lack of adipose tissue—reserve
force—throughout her frame. Her
lungs are apt to be weak, waist
normal and hips undersized.
She is awkward in movement. Iler
climate has not suffered her relaxa
tion and the ease and curve of mo
tion that more enervating air im
parts. This is seen even in public.
In walking she holds lier elbows set
in an angle, and sometimes she steps
out in the tilt of the Cantabrigian
man. In this is perhaps an uncon
scious imitation, a sympathetic copy-
ing, of an admirable norm, but it is
graceless in petticoats. As she steps,
she knocks her skirt with lier knees,
and gives you the impression that
her leg 1 is crooked, that she does not
lock lier knee joint. More often she
toes in than out.
She has a marvelously delicate,
brilliant, fine-grained skin. It is in
nocent of powder and purely natural.
No beer in past generations has en
tered its making, and no port; also,
little flesh.
REFURNISHING WINDSOR.
The 01<t Pnrnlture in thr CaNtle W ill
lie llnriied to Prevent
IIN Circulation.
His majesty intends to clear out
a good deal of the old furniture and
fittings at Windsor castle and replace
them with his own. Having this in.
view, old residents have been on the
lookout for signs of a bonfire some
where in the precincts of the castle.
for in past times, when any chairs
and tables and other articles therein,
were condemned, it was the practice
to have them burned, cays Modern.
Society.
The object of this was to prevent
pieces of furniture stamped with the
queen's monograms from being let
loose, as it were, and so allowed to
drift into the hands of brokers, and
thence into the possession of persons
having no right to them, but willing
to pay almost any price to be able
to display such royal articles in their
own houses. It was a wasteful ex
pedient, but one can understand the
ueed of such a precaution. There
have been so many instances of roy
al gifts and discarded articles beinj*
found in shops and stores iliat some
means of prevention are quite neces
sary. Hut up to the present time
there have been no indications of &
holocaust.