The Centre reporter. (Centre Hall, Pa.) 1871-1940, July 15, 1885, Image 6

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

    KEAR THE DAWNING,
When life's troubles gather darkly
Round the way we follow here;
When no hope the sad heart lightens,
No voice speaks a word of cheer;
Then the thought the shadows scatters,
Giving us a cheering ray—
When the night appears the darkest,
Morning is not far away.
When advergity surrounds us,
Aud our sunshine friends pass by,
And the dreams so fondly cherished
With our scattered treasures lie;
Then amid such gloomy seasons
This sweet thought can yet be drawn;
When the darkest hour is present
It isalways near the dawn
When the spirit fluttering lingers
On the confines of this life,
Parting from all joyful memories,
And from every scene of strife,
Though the scene is sad and gloomy,
And the body shrinks in fear,
These dark hours will soon be vanished,
And the glorious morn be here.
Pain cannot affect us always,
Brighter days will soon be here,
Borrow may oppress us often,
Yet a happier time is near;
All along our earthly journey
This reflection hghts our way;
Nature's darkest hour is always
Just before the break of day.
SA ISR,
LOVE AT SECOND SIGHT.
“Hew do you feel now, mother dear?” |
amked a tender young voice, ‘Is your |
bead any better?” |
“No, Mabel. It aches and aches,
gntil I almost wish I could die. Lay |
sour hand here,” i
Mabel’s cheek paled as her mother
wook her hand and pressed it against her
temple,
Such fire would soon burn out life's
flickering taper.
She wet a cloth and bound it round
the fevered head. As she did so the
siok woman gave a sigh of relief. She
syened her eyes and turned a grateful
«uk upon the girl,
“Do you know, Mabel,” she said fee- |
bly, “I dreamed last night of the dear
1d home where we lived before your |
lather died. You were a wee toddling
baby then, It seems to me, if I could
have some of the flowers that grew in |
the garden in front of the house, the |
very smell of them would cure me,”
Tears rushel to Mabel’s eyes, They
lived in the great crowded city, and
they were poor, Mabel could not spare |
‘rom ber scanty hoard even the triflng
sum for which she could buy a bunch
of flowers from the vendors who were
stationed at so many different places |
slong the street, i
How could she get some of the fra- |
ant flowers for her mother?
Suddenly came a thought of an old- |
fashioned mansion a little way out of
the city. It was embowered in a wil
ierness of bloom.
Sareiy it would be no harm for her |
0 go aud ask for some flowers, they
sould but refuse them, |
She bent over the invalid and kissed |
er. i
“Mother,” she said softly, *‘‘if you |
will be content to stay alone for a few |
hours I think I can grati’'y your longivg, |
f not for the blossoms that grew about
your old home for some just like them.
[ will ask Mrs, Gray to come in and
give you your medicine regularly.”
Mrs, Gray was a kind-hearted woman
who ocoupield a part of the house in |
wh ch they lived, and she readily con-
sented to minister to the invalid’s com-
fort in any way she could during
Mabel's abgenoce.
it was fot without a f(remor that
Mabel at last found herself in a broad, |
aeatly kept path which led to the
@Gwinne mansion.
A huge mastiff sprang toward her as |
she neared the house,
“Down, Nero! Down!”
The speaker was au old gentleman,
who evidently feared that the approach
of the dog would intimidate Mabel, But
Nero contented himself with a good-
antured sniff, reserving his fiercer side
{or & more suspicious party,
His master looked pleased to see |
Mabel pat his head fearlesely, The |
truth was, now that she was in the pres- |
snoe of the stately old master of the |
place, her heart failed her, and she was
gad ot an excuse toldefer asking for the
werd,
“Well, Miss,” he said courteously, |
“can Ido do saything to put you in |
the way of finding the person you are |
seeking?”
*‘It is you sir. I came to ask you for |
flowers for my sick mother,”
“Pick all you want,
better.
The more the |
You are welcome to all you ean |
sarry.
Just then Mabel heard a clear, r ng- |
ing voice shout: Grandfather!” and out |
of the oool, tiled hall, of which an en- |
chanting glimpse was visible h
the open door, came a youth who looked
§ het'the some prince from a fairy
L *
Bhe was not accustomed to the luxu-
rious habits of the rich, aud his dark-
blue velvet dressing-gown. fastened b
its cord of shimmering, woven gold,
and the richly embroidered smoking-
But the illusion only lasted for a mo-
ment. A pair of brown eyes, just the
solor of a ripe chestnut, glanced at her
Sutiously as their owner came down the
walk.
“Come when these are faded,”
trom Mr,
face from absolute plainuess,
evidently once been a woman of queenly
form and of magnificent beauty. Eveu
now her great fever-bright eyes and
|
semblance of health, but it was delu-
sive,
“My darling,” she whispered, ‘youn
nave brought me a blessing and you
shali be rewarded, To-morrow I will
throw pride to thie winds and dictate a
letter to my father which shall restore
my child to her rights, Ob, Mabel,
i
{
i
|
i
|
|
your love and obedience to me 1 have,
at this late day learned a lesson of duty,
I was, when young, carefully educated
in all but that most importan of lessons
to a child, filial obedience,
She was still
Her complexion was
rather sallow, and though her features
were regular, she was undeniably plain,
eyes, wore, however, suflicient to re.
deem her from positive ugliness,
Chauncey was still a student, coming
then burying mmself in his beloved
meal times,
Buddenly Mr. Gwinne's health failed,
and he was ordered abroad. Mabel and
Miss Clay, her governess, accompanied
They remained away from home
mast be gratified at any cost; and when
I met and loved your father, instead ot
waiting patiently to gain a oonsent
long have withheld to our union, we
were married clandestinaly, My one
to say any more,
finish my story.”
voiceless benediction, upon a clay-clad
with it snd her sorrow,
At first the desolate child—for Mabel
was but fourteen—was conscious only of
SOON came a
brought with it such
action.
be Imd away to rest in the Potter's
She would go to the kind old gentle
maa who had givea her the flowers,
and ask him for help in this tr ving hour
which had come to her youug lite, She
found hini at home,
Then word came to Chauncey that
they were coming home. They were
tirnd of travel, and Mr, Gwinne had
quite recovered his health,
Chauncey met them at the station,
He was handsome and indifferent-100k-
partial eyes,
meet drew near, he gave his grand-
father a cordial shake of the hand, and
loveliness that he was, for a moment,
*‘I beg your pardon, I thought it was
he said, turning to the
other lady.
Jat when Miss Clay's familiar feat-
ures met his eyes, he asked:
behind?"
and the beautiful apparition he
mistaken for a stranger put
hand mm a
the sweet life gone out of her beautiful
You are nd and rich.
falfil a duty which would entail long
it could be accom-
plished, touched a chord in Randolph
Gwinne's heart,
‘Go home, little one,” he said gently,
‘and mourn for your dead, Do not
ments are attended to.”
After all wasover, Mabel settled down
of
Every week she scrupulously
laid aside a portion of her earnings and
them from her with
ence.
The child had made a contract with
him, and out of respect to her the man
At last the final payment was made.
“Little Mabel,” he said, *'I have been
of life since you sud I made our bar-
I have seen your cheeks grow
pale for want of the food you permsted
in denying yourself, that you might
bring your weekly hoard to me, and 1
wondered iI one so young would be
able to carry out so high a resolve.
You have sncceeded, and all your life
long you will have it to remember,
Now, your part is done, and mine
respects you,
loves you well
to become his
Come and make
can provide, You will have no objec.
torture commenoed.
Mabel, who
the rounded suppleness of form as well
as the queenly dignity of a young
Diana; and with the rich color, which
had chased away the pallor of
cate complexion so
dark hair.
of beauty would, years before,
ures, and straight, though at that time,
He looked upon it as upon a miracle,
pression,
Bat Mabel had changed
things beside beauty.
Now grave—now gay- Dow majestic
as a child,
Chauncey knew not what to make of
But he was fully conscious of one
her tiny feet had pressed. He was her
shadow,
At last he grew desperale,
She should not thus hold him aloof
and play with his feelings any longer,
It might be amusement to her, but it
was making his life a torture,
80 he captured her in the library one
morning, before the rest of the family
had made their appearance, and pressed
his suit with au earnestness which
wonld have moved a heart of stone,
But to all appearance it had no effect
upon Mabel, Bhe answered with a
careless smile:
“In a honse, like this, where ‘one
in a maze of bewilderment and anger,
tis grandson camejinto the room.
A few words explaived his meaning,
girl
cey did not remember her,
ciliation; and the two young hearts
a walk in the garden,
Winter had passed, and summer had
course, grandfather, one more or less
does not matter in this great house,”
again to the surface and influence her
future long after Chauncey had forgot-
So it was that Mabel was domiciled at
the Gwinnes, A governess was engaged
for her, and music and painting lessons
soon occupied the time not engaged in
ber studies. Thus a year passed on,
One morning the daily paper was
brought as usual to Mr. Gwinne, as he
was sitting at the breakfast-table, sip-
Budden!
arrested Mabel's attention.
He had read a cotioe asking for the
knowledge of the whereabouts of one
Bashul ge Wiitss married name
was Wynne, er ly surviving parent
had died, and she, if living, was sole
heiress to a large fortune; if dead, her
children would inherit,
Rachel,” said
“*Well I remember poor
“She was the
handsomest girl I ever saw. She gave
up all for love, and made a clandestine
marriage with a man of whom her par-
ents disapproved, Foor Rachel! 1 won-
der if she 1s alive!”
Mabel rose from the table, and went
to Mr. Gwinne, She was very pale, but
her eyes shone with excitement,
“Rachel Freeland was mother's
maiden name. Oh, my kind notor,
how little you knew whose child it was
i Smong en far
al gio by Hit vs
now
HE oh wis now lies. She had not
changed much in personel appearance
carried the clusters to her sick mother,
Their eyes met involuntarily, In
spite of his wounded pride, Chauncey's
wild love sprang into renewed life, and
he held out his arms entreatingly.
“0, Mabel, forgive me!
careless, thonghtiess boy. It 1s the
man who now appreciates you, and
loves you better than his own life.”
Another moment and Mabel's queen-
ly head waa resting on his breast,
“it waa because 1 loved yon even
then that your words had power to
sting me so cruelly.
So amid the flowers was told another
the morning which usbers in a new day,
Florida Orange Groves,
Harriet Beecher Stowe has a grove
on the 8t, Louis river, just above Pal.
atka, from which she enjoys a hand.
some revenue annually besides having a
that. The Indian and Ocklawaha riv-
er frit is the best and brings the high-
ost of the
out, stute pla tod
entire planted in oranges the yield
would not be sufficient to suoply the
demand from the three cities men.
His Honor avd Bijah,
“Pijah,” said his Honor, as he
skinned himself out of his spring over-
cont and looked out of the alley win-
dow at au onion sprouting up in an
ash heap, “who is muking all that
noise in the corridor?”
“1's a woman, sir—Mrs, ('Rearity!”
“What loes she want?”
“Wants to be tried, sir.’
“Well, we'll have to call the case
at once, She's probably iv » hurry to
get home and flx for a day a ‘he roller
rink, Lead her out geutly, Bijab,
Always remember that a gil of kind-
ness goes further in this w. rd of ate
springs than a whole barrc! of ball.
dozing.”
Mrs. UO'Rearity was brought out, It
was geutly, DBijash carrld her as he
wonld a 200 pound bsg of flour, and
the way she was kicking, biting and
scratching would have done credit to a
| wild eat,
“I'll have the life out of him!”
she
{ desk. ‘“‘The impudence of the
| bald head to bring me in before all
{ these people after that fashion?”
{ cited,” said his Honor,
“Excited, your Honor!
| ness, you mean!
j could pitch the whole crowd of yees
into the alley!"
“Gentiy, female, gently,
| dobtors are & uuit in declaring that
| anger is a drain on the tmssues. Be
| calm and candid, and let me inquire
Eminent
to produce the family row last night?”
| ‘I never tasted a drop of
{ water!”
“H'm, Bat you had a row?”
“No, sir,
put §5 of my money into lottery tickets,
{and I gave him a bit of my mind.”
“With a club?”
“It was a hoe-handle, sir.”
“Do You have these rows very often,
| Mrs, O'Rearity?”
| as other folks, If we didn’t, sir, I'm
| thinking this world would soon get too
| goody-good for the people.”
“When were you here last?”
“Three months agone.”
“For what?"
“Same old hoe-handle, your Honor,”
“Ak! I remember.
time. This time tue five will be $5.”
Bhe turned to the audience and beck-
{ hie head and three strips of court-
i plaster across his nose, and as he came
i forward she said:
“Me darlint foive dollars is dog-
| cheap considering the fun we had,
| Hand over the cash and we'll go.”
He paid it without a word, and they
went away band in hand,
“Jordau Davis, the charge Is disor-
derly conduct.”
“Sorry, air, but 1 dido’t know as it
aw,
be ihiling t
You were lLrowing «i
wowan who passed you
must be & ma her,”
“No, sir.”
| “Well, you are too sweet for a town
like this, Officer, did you observe any
| further rudeness on his part?”
“] observed 8 woman smash a $0
parasol over his bead, sir.”
“Ab! Gilad to know we have such
women among us, Prisoner, outside of
you do for a living?”
“Work hard, sir.”
“lt me see your hands. H'm!
Guess you work with the dice box or
poker chips, Your fice is $10.”
“I haven't got it, sir.”
“Oh, that won't bother you at all;
i you will go up for sixty days. If you
practice on & new pose,
| trouble with your wife?”
“Yes, sali—a worry leetle,’
“On the street?”
“Right on de street, sah?”
“How did it come about?”
“She stole money outer my pocket
an’ bought a pair of roller skates,”
“Ah--ha! Canght the mania, did
she?”
“She did, sah.”
“Poor thing! And you didn't want
her to go?”
*
| de street, an’ we argufled an’ jawed an’
| got mad, an’ had a tussle.”
“Tally one for the anti-rinker. Well,
you were brought down. Ever here
betore?”
“No, sah.”
“That's in your favor. Suppose I
let jou go?”
“| reckon we can kiss an’ make up
| an’ be happy agin’, sah,”
| “Well, you may try it, and if you
{ can’t succeed come back here and let
| me give you about thirty days"
Receiving New Cadets,
It is very amusing to watch a plebe
under military discipline. The lads
who have already reported and are
awaiting examination look as if they
were in a state of perpetual torture,
They are compelled to swallow their
conceit and roll their rustic dignity in
the dust before a pair of irreproachable
white trousers, This morning three
young fellows came up from a school
somewhere down the river to report,
They were evidently the sons of well-to
do parents, and possibly with the inten-
tion of making an impression rat-
tied up to the headquarters build in
open carriage, with their commission
papers sticking out of their coat ke
ets, The army officers did not out
to greet them, and they stood for some
time on the granite steps bef
“Well?” The adjutant’s tone was not
ho Su The ho
bis commission
“
to breathe, Iis companions peeked at
him through the door and audibly
snickered, ‘*‘Come, none o’ that,” said
an orderly. The adjutant merely gian-
ced at the paper, tossed it aside with a
heap of others, and touch-d a bell, In
less than a minute the three lads were
on the way to the surgeons, feeling only
about half as big as they did when they
arrived, They were marched into a
plainly furnished room, and not with-
obeyed a stern order to take off all their
clothes, Each man stepped on a scale
to be weighed, and was catechized as to
his habits and previous mode of living,
This done, the surgeons examined the
boys from head to foot, sounding their
lungs and their chests, testing their
ears, their eyes and their teeth, looking
out very sharply for weak spots. Back
again they went to the adjutant, de-
lighted at having passed the first ordeal
| successfully, Another slip of paper,
| another orderly, and they were soon in
{ Treasurer Spurgin’s office, heaping up
| their money on the table,
“Is that all you have?’’ asked Capt.
Spurgin,
“Yes, sir,” said all three,
**Have you loaned any since you left
home?"
**No, sir,” said two of the boys, The
third held his tongue and tried to look
as if he didn’t hear, The question was
repeated,
“Oh, yes,"
he said, **1 let —— have
0
“Well, I want you to get it back at
| once and let me have it to-night.”
{ It is only occasionally that a boy re-
sorts to a ruse of this kind to keep a
| little money in his pocket. He invaria-
bly gets caught, and wonders how it is
that army officers are so exceeding
sharp. *'I wish you would let me have
{ 25 cents of that back, sir,” sald one of
| the lads as another orderly was getting
| them toward the door.
“What for? asked the treasurer,
“Well, sir, my folks feel kind 0’ anx-
{ lous, and I want to telegraph them that
{ I have gone through the doctors,” he
| explained, with some embarrassment.
“If you were an older you
i would have to make that reques
| writing. Suppose you begin now,’
{ Capt. Spurgin, pointin pen
cadet
g to and
g
paper
i The <0 cents went into the treasurer’s
safe credited to the boy's aecount, The
orderly marched them all over the co
mandant’s headquarters, bestowing
few sharp words of command
| greatly to his own gratification
Here they were met by the officer
¥ rg wit fie Spsat » #
W BPeCliiC insiruct
on
| WAY,
charge given a fe
with caution to be sure and obey them
{| if they wanted to be comfortable, and
| then sent over to the quarters assigned
them in charge of another orderly.
These orderlies are enlisted men on the
st,
LI
Ons,
i
on AAI PS
Steeples,
| In speaking of the usefulness of
church steeples, we would not have it
understood that their only use has been
in connection with the! Along the
{ coast there can that they
were often used as wiore the
: At Hap
inction of lght-he
sleepie
Wiis,
be no doubt
bead i
UA,
in Norfolk, a lofty
the ever-grasping
nigh worn s
i} burgh,
WO) DEAT
has had its
by the continual fic to
We know, too, how “bro
fierce the came forth on Ei
stately fane,” when Lhe
alarmed at the approach of ¢
Armada. Now-a-days «
made to serve more utilitarian purposes
in carrving vanes, Ks and
flagstaffs. Although very rarely indeed
met with in the churches themselves,
ancient fireplaces are by no means
| common in steeples, They are usually
| on the first floor, flues going
ito the top in the thickness of the wall,
| It has never been satisfactorily proved
| for whose use they could have been in-
i tended, deme have supposed that such
towers as have them must at some time
| or other have been watch-towers; but
| in remote inland districts 1t seems more
| reasonable to suppose that recluses
| dwelt in such places,
With bare walls and narrow loop
{ holes, they must have been at all times
| wretched habitations; but peture, if
| you can, such an abode on a windy
| night. The gloomy surroundings, the
waves
steps w
¥ ta 4 #
RYT HG
its PTH.
& x Ag
BAT y 8
Ww Ly became
he Spanish
ir sleepies are
weathercocks
we
ai-
and Lave
ling in the turret-staircase,the creaking
of the tree-tops, s sense of loneliness
in all this uproar, Can any situation
be more conductive to madness? But
now-a-days we mount our steeples only
flag.
An Fecentrie Yierst,
Samper Hartwell, the octogenarian
hermit of Shirley, Massachusetts, is
dead, He lived and died in the room
where he was born. He passed half
his tife in a locality where he oconld
hear the locomotive whistle daily, yet
he never rode on a train of cars, and
| British Consols,
| As the price of British conwols (an
| abbrevation of “consolidated annui-
| thes” and pronounced either con-sols or
| con~sols, but naturally the latter way)
is a certain mark of the feeling of se-
{ curity or msecurity of financiers of all
kinds in London, the reader may just
now be in necd of the reminder that by
far the greater portion of the national
| debt of the United Kingdom has been
| funded into a perpetual obligation of
3 per cent interest per annum to the
| holders, The British Ministers, when
| they desire to borrow money, instead of
| offering a $1,000 bond at 6, 7, or B per
{ cent, principle payable in ten or forty
| years, as was done in America, say to
| the money lender: “We will pay 3 per
{ cent on everything we borrow. Now,
| how much of a bond do you want in
| return for $1,000 7’ The money lend.
ler bas received as high as $1,774 and
as low as $008, according the degree of
| credit enjoyed by the government, In
this way the government has piled up
| an imaginary obligation of $3,500,000
i or, in reality has written an annual pen-
sion-roll of §145,000,000, Now let us
| suppose that a man desires to “lend
money to the Government” -—that 1s to
| take the place of those who have 850
{ lent it, or those whose ancestors have
{80 lent it. The investor takes $1,000
| into the market, If Napoleon has just
| signed the peace of Tilsit, the lender
{ obtains, as af bond for $1,
714, on which he ever afterward is to
| draw 3 per cent, If Disraeli have just
torn up Russia's treaty of San Stefano
and taken Cyprus, the lender gets only
1 an even bond for his $1,000, Again,
| if time pass, and a Premier without
{ the governmental requisite of an iron
will allow the government to drift
| into a position of Isolation with most
{of the world and hostilities toward
{ the good fighters, then the holder sells
| his bond for $040, and may be glad to
{ get that much. This holder has before
| beld bonds for which he paid $1,000,
{and sold as low as $800 and as high as
$1,020, Consols have not been so low
| for seven years as they are at this crisis
but tiey are still firm, as 80 would be
sidered very low and 100 very high.
thie consol, wherein it 4if-
American consolidated
ie principal may vary in
it we interest never. This
makes book-keeping for the
Treasury, but exposes the Treasurer to
all the greater temptation to borrow.
oresaid, a
“cleared” once
This d:
called the
the greatest of fina
vances in the world. Tue actual
| ments of money balances at
ing mount into the hundre
50 the investor may 3
{ cash or for the t, which, when
the account is weeks away,
| makes a difference in valu “spot
| wheat’’ and ** in
! American Boards.
are
Pris ¥
month.
aii u
accou
BOVE
es, like
nt)
nid
seller the mo
S———I 5 -
Gambling in Paris
r the police know there 15a
in the inferior cercles of
bly reaches a total of
VEar Were the
m, great as it
exceeded ;
Croupiers
would
and what
casinos must be prodigious
The suppression of
any to some extent
in France.
new cercles started up
oO supply the cravings of those games-
who used to go to Baden-Baden
and Hamburg and run back when they
were cleaned out The contagion
spread. Horse-racing, which De Mor-
ny promoted on the grounds that it
{improves horse flesh and circulates
money briskly, has steadily fed the fev-
er. So has the lottery which the gov-
ermmment has encouraged under the pre-
text of forwarding patriotic and charit-
able enterprises. One commercial re-
suit of the spread of the hells is the
ruin of the cafe restaurants. Hardly
any of the first or even the second: ciass
restaurants are able to make both ends
meet. If French ladies were not fond
of going for a change to dine in cabinels
particuliers and the demi-monde were
not still a power, Bignon's, the Cafe
Anglaise and Peter's would have to fol-
| low the example of the Cafe Helder in
winding up. The spreading-out of
Paris to some extent draws out the
rush of life from the old boulevards :
but the restaurants could, never the less
go ou prospering were it not for the
bells, I know of a grandiose hell where
| a dgjeuner is provided at from three to
| five francs, which would be charged
twenty-five francs for at Bignon's, and
could not be furnished at a second-rate
house, All the vices are now
and then glorified in its salons, at soi-
rees artistiques et dramatiques, At
tnese entertainments special reviews,
{ charades and comediettas are played.
If not written in Latin, they brave
Uhonnetete. They are not mere gaulod,
series, intended just to raise a laugh,
but are caleulated to unloose the brute
beast which lies hidden in so many
civilized beings. These divertissements
get to the head like 4 wine, and
attach young fools still more old
fools to the disguised hell,
¥ ’ “ ry ¥ tas
s lost watering place
wa tri lifer §
gad ii
= 80
inst
violently
decade
Hago's Manner of Working.
's own description of his
od of work given in a letter written
not long since, is curious: —*
ly work on a number of
o EEI:E"
8
Fg
L
&