The Centre reporter. (Centre Hall, Pa.) 1871-1940, July 29, 1885, Image 3

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

    i A—————————r
MY COUNTRY HOME,
Old homestead! In that old gray town
Thy vane is seaward blowing,
Thy slip of garden stretches down
To where the tide is flowing;
Below thay lie, their sails all furied,
The ships that go about the world.
Dearer that little country house.
Inland, with pings beside it;
Some peach trees, with unfruitful boughs,
A well with weeds to hide it;
No flowers or only such as rise
Self-sown, poor things, which all despise
Dear country home! can I forget
The least of thy sweet trifles,
The window vines that clamber yet,
Whose blooms the bee still rifles?
The roadsides blackberries growing ripy
And in the woods the Indian Pipe?
Happy the maa who tills his field
Content with rustic labor;
Earth does to him her fullness yield,
Hap what may to his neighbor.
Well days, sound nights, oh! can thers be
A life more rational and free.
BARBARA.
ns
my nusing, and get strong and well
again.”
As Faanie Pleasanton spoke she put
beside bed over which she
was leaning, a great bunch of fragrant
violets, moist and beautiful, breathing
their sweet stories of shady nooks in
deep woods. A little pale face that
had been lying listlessly on the pillow
was lifted eagerly.
the
like home, my own dear home!"
Great tears rolled down the pale face.
“Tell me about your home. How
came you to leave it for the city?’ said
Fannie.
sold to pay a mortgage. I had a little
money, and I thought I could work in
the city. Desides—"
But here
and a fain: cnmson blush
her pale cheeks,
“Hm! thought Fannie, wise
twenty-two years of city |
cation: “a love story.”
She asked no questions, bul pretty
soon Barbara said: **You have been so
kind I will teil you. can
tell me what to do.”
rose upon
in
ife and edo-
Perhaps you
pre
| tables and wardrobe, drawers overflow-
ing with dainty flnery, open trunks
| waiting to be packed. And the prepar-
| ations were all for a wedding in one
| short week, and the bride-groom elect
{ was Cyrus B. Lenox.
What was this story the little seam-
| stress she found starving in the attic
had told her? The janitress to the ten-
ement house had been a servant in the
| Pleasanton family, and came to Fanme,
| who was rich and generous, whenever
any distress came to her notice. And
Fannie had gone to her last call, to find
Barbara Golding tossing in delirious
fever, evidently overworked, poorly fed,
and sitting in the little attic chamber.
She had paid for a better room on the
jower floor, had sent a doctor, had sup-
plied medicine, food and care, and vis-
ited her often, till the doctor pronoun-
ced her on the road to recovery.
And in return she heard that Cyrus,
| lover of Barbara Golding. “Does he
| love her yet?” the girl thought, push-
and looking in the mirror.
| handsomer.
and fair.
| Cyrus 18 not poor now since his aunt
i died; but will rise in eminence with my
burden upon him. Only a week.
| before Barbara can ever sit up we shall
| be on our way to Europe, and he will
soon forget her. Why did he seek me
| of his aunt's, not a command that he
should marry me if I consented. But
he cawe to me, and I love him—I love
love than mine? I can give her money
| to return to her old home if she wishes,
| But if he loves her! ©, Cyrus, do you
love her and not me?
| I must knowl”
As if in answer to the thought, a ser-
vant rapped at the door, and opening
it, Fannie was handed Cyrus Lenox’s
card.
“] will come down at once,”
ing her disordered hair,
: excitement of her discovery nerved her
——— ——————— S————————————-
for a long time. Then a hoarse voice
said:
“You have seen Barbara?”
“Yes, I have seez her.”
A Novel Timepieces.
A watch that winds itself by the mo-
| tion of the wearer is the latest wonder
“As you describe her?’ | of Europe. The moneyed tourists
“Yes? abroad will probably come hows in the
“And you despise me as faithless to | fall provided with them to astonish
her and you?” | their stay-at-liome friends. The foll-
“No, I do not despise you, I am | owing explanation of the new toy will,
sorry that you did not know yeur own however, take off the edge of this
heart better when you came to ask me | triumph with our readers,
to be your wife.” The new automatic
i
¥
i
timepiece 1s
-_—_—_—_Ae
naked, working the mines, The holes
leading to the mines were s0 small that
it was necessary for one to lie down
and slowly work through the apertures.
At New Zealand our party were just
in time to get pgssage on a vessel char-
tered to visit the west coast sounds,
This was the first excursion party ever
taken to the sounds, The sights were
remarkable, Everything is wild in the
locality. The mountains rise straight
up from the water, In some portions
Cavalry in Future Wars.
Among the military nations of the
continent it is recognized that, so fav
from the time for the efficacious em-
ployment of cavalry either on the bat
tle-fleld or in enterprises against the
flanks or rear of an enemy being past,
a glorious future is dawning for that
arm, and that opportunities will arise
when well-disciplined, well-trained, and
well-commanded cavalry may, through
All her pain and love were well hid-
den in the cold, proud voice which Fan-
nie Pleasanton assumed to cover her
breaking heart. But after a moment
she said, more gently:
“Barbara has been very ill, and is
still too weak to bear any great agita-
tion. You must be patient, and leave
her to me. When she is well enough
you shall see her,”
“Fannie, you will break our engage-
will be the result of any change now?
You will not trust me to tear out this
old lgve, and be ever true and faithful
I am not so weak but I can do
go, if you will trust me.”
“But I will not!” was the quiet
reply. “I will marry no man whose
heart is not all mine. I will have no
of another love for
my constant rival, We can still be
He had no words to meet the steady
resolution of her voice, but yet he took
no coward’s plea for shelter. He would
not say, even to his own heart, “She
never loved me; she is glad to throw
me off.” He knew she had loved him,
being too purely womanly to give her
hand where she had not already given
her heart. He knew the sacrifice she
was making.
to his tips, saying:
ness to her, I will come again when
i
So he left her, carrying the dream of
| with a fictitious strength to endure any
‘word she mught speak. She came
| him quietly, dignified as ever, but very |
“1 will help you In any way tbat I
can.”
‘“T'wo years ago, the summer that 1
was seventeen, father took a boarder,
to}
pale, so pale he asked anxiously if she |
was well,
He was a lawyer, and his health had
was abou! twenty-eight, not handsome,
but so gentle and good that we all liked
him from the first. And he would
come into the garden with me, and
help me with vegetables and fruit,
because father left that to me; and
would carry the milk up to the dairy
room f me, and talk about books
don’t you know.”
“He made love to you?”
“Yds,” mn a faint whisper.
“And you loved him
“Yes,” again. *I could not help it!
When he went away
to come the next summer, and he told
me when he made his fortune
ask rae to come to share it.”
“Did he coms?’
“Father dled the next spring, and I
came hers. I thought I should find
him; but I did not see him for a long
time; and when I did I had become 80
poor, 80 very poor, I would not force
myself upon him. I worked as well as
I could. but this summer I became sick,
and but for you I should have
starved.”’
“Po vou think your lover is still true
to you?"
“I cannot tell, I would not trouble
him. Sometimes, after I bad found
out where his office was, I would pass
by after dark and peep in. It was beau-
tifully furnished; so I hope he is mak-
ing his fortune; but I only whispered
‘God bless him,’ and came home.”’
“Will you tell me his name.”
“Lenox—Cyrus B. Lenox.”
Fannie Pleasanton turned her face
abruptly from the little seamstress, who
had been the object of her charity for
the last six weeks, and walked to the
91
¢
he would
“Well, but tired,” she answered.
| have been out this morning.”
| They talked of indifferent matters for
a short time; then Fannie said,
earnestly:
ask you one true woman's question.
He hesitated a moment, then said:
“1 will answer truthfally whatever
| you ask.”
“Did you ever love any other woman
| before you knew me?"
“Do you not think itenough to know
I love you now?” he said,
“You promised me a sincere answer,
| and you give me an evasion,” she said,
reproachfully.
“Because you ask me to lear open an
old wound your love is healing.”
“Yet, even if it pains both you and
' me, 1 beg you to tell me of your first
| love.”
| Fannie’s lips were parched and stiff,
but she spoke calmly.
“Since you insist,” Cyrus sald, grave-
ly, “I will tell you. Two years ago, m
| a farmhouse where I was boarding, I
met a woman, or rather a girl, a sweet,
| fair maiden. [ loved. I was a poor
| man then, Fannie, and she had a happy,
| pleasant home,
| hoping to return the next year and
{ bring her to the city. When I did
| return the farm was sold, and Barbara
| had goneaway. None of the neighbors
| could tell me anything of her.’
“It was your place to seek her.”
| “Idid, faithfully. But I could find
| no trace of her whereabouts. In the
| autumn my aunt died. She had loved
you for years, and her last wish was the
| hope that you would one day be my
wife. It was a sweet solace to me even
She could not trust herself to think,
3
!
Before the winter snows came there |
3
i
She was very happy, this pale, little |
Barbara, when sheltered by her hus |
Southern breezes, She was very happy
Little by little she faded
away, always gentle and loving, always
Gently
ing her, his loving touch caressing her,
Cyrus turned his face homeward, wid-
European tour, taken
after Barbara's wedding.
A little paler, a little graver, Cyrus
found her when he came to call, but
still the gentle dignified woman he
remembered, the true companion his
window, Lifting the soft white cur-|in my sorrow for her loss, and pain at
tains she had placed there, she looked | Barbara's disappearance, to have your
into the street, while ringing in ber | sympathy, and I soon found there was
ears was the name Barbara Golding yet room in my heart for a true, tender
had just spoken: llove. You cannot believe 1 would
“Cyrus B, f.enox,” | have asked you to be my wife had I not
She was very pale when she came | loved you?”
again to the bedside, but her voice was | “But if even now, you found Bar-
as sweet and steady as ever as she said: | bara?’
“I must leave you now, Barbara, but | “I have long ago ceased to love her.”
I will come again this afternoon. If| “Yet if she came to you?"
you want anything, Mrs. Harper will | “You are my betrothed wife.”
answer the bell.” “Yet if Barbara came to you poor,
**Yes, she is very kind, friendless, and sick; If she told you she
will come again!" had come to the city, seeking work,
“This afternoon. Try to eat a few of | hoping to find you, and had sunk under
the strawberries I have brought you.” | her burden of loneliness and toil, if she
She went away them, stopping as | told you that, ragged. footsore and
ususl to tell the janitress of the poor | weary, she had looked in at you in your
tenement house to care for the sick girl | cosey offlice, and turned away, unwil.
until her return, Butinstead of driving | ling to throw the burden of her poverty
to the stores where she had intended to! upon you; if she had struggled until
make (nal purchases for a nearly com- | she had fainted aod fell sick, and was
pleted wedding outils, she told the | gaining health slowly, hopelessly, with
coachman to drive home. Once there, | no future before her but a future of
unheed ing the anxious inquiries of her | poverty and toil; if Barbara came so to
aunt, astonished at her early return and | you, Cyrus, what would you say?"
pale face, she went to her own room, | Butonly spall face, with greatbeads
bolting the door, before she sank down of perspiration upon the broad brow
in a chaif, wearied with the effort to | was lifted in speechless agony to meet
maintain her composure. her eyes. Only large brown eyes, wists
Cyrus B. Lenox, the girl said. . Fan. | ful and saffering, appealing to her
Pleasanton, looking around™ her | womanly heart,
Bat—you
ous room, saw a pleasant confu. | There was a dead silence in the room |
>
Never to living ears did he tell the
gecret he learned in his bref married
life—the secret that Barbara, sweet,
gentle Barbara, whose girlish beauty
had won his love, whose deepest pity
loving, suffering, she appealed to his
protection, his pity, and he gave her
both in full measure,
But he knew only too soon that she
could never meet him heart to heart as
Fannie could-—could never be his true
life companion. He was loyally true to
her memory, speaking no word of his
secret disappointment.
And he sought Fannie with a lover's
eagerness, a life's devotion; and Fannie
loving him with her whole heart, knew
it was no divided homage he offered
her when, for the second time, he asked
her to he his wife,
She had made her sacrifice, and knew
that she had soothed Barbara's passage
to the grave, not hastened it. And
with a clear cons sience, a deep, abiding
love, she once more put her band in
that of Cyrus Lenox, and became his
faithful, dearly-loved wile,
IN LN
Massive Monument.
The pyramid of Cholula, not far from
the City of Mexico, 18 the most masuive
monument ever raised in America, Its
base covers forty-five acres, it is 150
feet high, in terraces composed of stone
and brick and natural soll heaped up in
layers.
a sometimes oxolnde
0 6OFTOW OF TemoTes, = ny a.
Bg
called in Switzeland, where it was In-
| vented, the **Marche-Marche,” The
| watch is a stemsetter, and in but one
| particular differs from the ordinary
| watch as to exterior appearance.
“works” are protected by a square case
will appear after the other features of
the watch have been described
| tall.
| the automatic self-winding mechanism,
| which attains the objeet in view to
| perfection. On the side of the
| that the arbor of the
| turbed from a position of absolute rest.
| The force of a spring adjusted under
| the arm furnishes the reaction, and
| the oscillation is repeated with every
| step taken by the wearer. This
| spring barrel by the wheel, the circum-
| clutch of a dog that *“*holds fast all it
| gets,” and the most ordinary walking
| exercise upon the part of the wearer
| serves to wind it up full, The watch
when used for the first time is wound
quired if the watch is worn regularly
by any one of the most moderate hab-
| bits of peregrination.
stand horizontally, and this can only be
when the watch has an upright posi-
{ tion in the pocket.
Upon the face of the watch is the
stantly indicates the tension to which
the spring is wound, and by a glance
the wearer of the watch may tell for how
many hours the watch is wound, The
capacity of the “Marche-
Marche,” when fully wound, is sixty
hours, as is indicated by the manome-
ter when its hand points to the number
at the top of the dial. The amount of
exercise required to wind it full is rep-
resented by six miles’ walking. The
| ing mec
| hazzard In missing trains, and sowing
| seeds of dissension in the family by
late arrival at dinner because of for-
| getfulness or negligence in the matter
of winding the watch, The absence of
| necessity for any contact
| hands with the interior of the walch is
in
| durability, and its shape, which at first
i
i
artistic decoration. The
| Marche" js entirely a band-made
| wateh, and is consequently a model of
| perfection in the chronometric art, the
i
| its speedy introduction to general use.
| The patentees are A. Bourgeois & Co.
| of Switzerland, who, aside from having
| taken several medals upon the merits
| of the “*Marche-Marche,” were aWar-
ded the diploma of honor of Zurich re-
cently.
ss MAP
-
Queer Adventures.
———————
A banker of London left that city
| Oct. 20th last fora pleasure trip around
the world. He started in an easterly
direction and reached this city a few
days ago, having almost completed his
trip. In conversation with a reporter
Mr. Nimond said: *L have had some
queer adventures since I left home,
some of which I think other tourists
perienced. For instance, when a pas-
senger on one of the Orient line of
| steamers, after passing through the
Suez canal, we stopped at a small island
for coal. One of the lady passengers
and myself started out to explore the
island while the vessel coaled up. We
penetrated the heavy forest of cocoanut
and tropical trees and had hardly been
from the vessel half an hour when we
discovered to our dismay and surprise
that we were lost. The forest was
very heavy, so much 80 in fact that we
could not see the sun, although occas
| about the waving branches, We
| walked first one way and then another,
but could not find the beach, although
the roar of the waves could be heard in
whichever direction we walked. The
ground was perfectly alive with snakes
and very little crabs. The former
seemed to rise up from under our feet.
Of course my companion was terribly
frightened. Suddenly 1 thought of my
pocket compass, and by its ad we found
the steamer, just in time to gel on
board, as she was ready to sail. I sub-
sequently learned that the island on
which wg were lost is only one mile
long and one-half a mile across, It is
‘one of the Chagus Archipelago, in the
Indian Ocean. ;
“At Ballarat, Australia, T had the
pleasure of visiting the gold mines. In
an old costume I descended 940 feet
below the earth's surface, where after
crawling through a number of small
we found a little beach, but any beach
at all was a rarity. We saw large
numbers of birds and curious animals,
The birds settled on us by the score,
its power of securing for itself compara~
tive immunity from the dangers to
which other arms are ina higher ratio
exposed, take a leading part in the con-
and did not seein in the least afraid. | filet and perhaps decide the fate of a
campaign, Among other high authori~
ties, Field Marshal Count Moltke has
recorded his opinion that because in
future the destructive fire of artillery
will necessitate a scattered formation,
the role of cavalry will be most import»
| ant
| History proves that without cavalry
| a victory is rarely brilliant. If cavalry,
was only one, | is beaten, according to Montecuculi,
One day, accompanied by a small | the battle is entirely lost; if, on the
boy, I started to camp out about six | other hand, it is victorious, the victory
teen miles from New Zealand. We | 5 complete. From the day when Has-
| reached a hut with only three sides | grubal destroyed the Roman host ab
| standing and attempted to sleep. Rut Cann until that on which 2,000 years
| it was a vain attempt. Rats, mosqui- | afterward, the British squadrons,
| toes and sand flies surrounded us bY | charging the flanks of the old guard at
the hundreds, While there we ascend- | Waterloo, “‘prevented all rallying”
ed a mountain 4,250 feet above the sed. | after the annihilation of the French
| We went far above the snow line. | cavalry, this axiom has been true. In
From that point I could see hundreds | the last great war cavalry on both sides
of snow-capped peaks, thousands of | were on several occasions nobly sacri
| small lakes, and could also get &|ficed in order to gain time for the in-
| glimpse of the ocean. Later, a small | fantry, or in heroic efforts to avert dis-
| party of us coached 640 miles into the | gsters already irreparable, but peither
| uninhabited wilderness. We reached a | in the “death rides” of Worth or Re-
point 4,300 feet above the sea in our | jonville, or in the terrible slaughter of
| coach. We went through the Orlira | Sedan, were the losses as heavy as those
| gorge, much resembling your Yosem- | incurred by cavalry in the days of
| ite valley, and we also crossed a deep | muzzle-loaders,
river running between mountains. | That the effect of fire of modern
The manner of crossing was a basket | weapons, requiring as they do in thelr
truck on wire, The distance was 750 | ys considerable skill and a correct
feet. On the other side we took | judgmeet of distance, would be very
another goach and visited the immense | jegtructive to cavalry moving rapidly
sheep ranches at Wellington Harbor. | sutside the line of 400 yards remains to
We also visited the Maori be proved.
These people are very kind, but easily
riled, and when so, are dangerous.
| They looked very fierce and hideous
with their bodies tattooed all over.
us a sort of tree, on which they could
rest without danger. We visited the
lakes of New Zealand, where we spent
| many happy hours. On one occasion a
large whale came near upsetting our
boat by shooting under us, We all
thought there were several whales near
us, but our boatman assured us there
savages,
As Elzey’s brigade was pressing for
ward to the line held by the Confeder-
ates at the bloody battle of Gaines’s
| Mill, a squad of fifteen or twenty sol-
Their country is wonderful, abounding
in geysers and hot springs, boiling
cauldrons and boiling mud. Wesawa
staircase of boiling water basins,
“We have visited all your principal
| diers were encountered on their way to
the rear. A tall fellow at the head of
| the little party drew special attentien
| to himself by singing out at the top of
. , | his voice with an oath, “Gentlemen,
cities ang placesof interest. The rocks | 3 Ya
in the Rocky mountains beat anything | we had the honor of being captured by
~
y Stonewall . i "ed LAYS
I have ever seen. Wichita falls, Nia- | to wall Jackson mst "a
gara falls, Yosemite valley and & thou- i ment which he repeal with evident
hs ry » - i ’ aa bi i - a3 ¥
sand other points we visited are won- i prale 4 long the rs ’ a oy
| derful. At Texas 1 took a hand | A A his story ‘was le a Gene
aounduag up eattlo an Bounding and eral Jackson, having ridden a
cutting them. SO Ia AY relied | a 4 . me sudden
31,200 mites, When Iget back to Lon- ne a Sdvane, th ome his Sey
don 1 will have traveled 54,200 miles, rahi a
teristic tuosity, bad ¢
giving me an average of 136 miles each Wietleths ww ° 3 1 haeged
day since 1 left home. render, which they made haste to do,
a ——
she Gave #1 to a Gambler.
S———— i
West Pollut.
The Board of Visitors td the West - : re 3
| Point Military Academy, in their News from Chicago says,
| annual report to the Secretary of War,
| says the general impression made by the
appearance of the cadets in drill and
review gives a very favorable idea of
| the discipline of the institution. The
Mrs,
| Thomas Smith confessed to the city
| detectives recently that she had nob
| been gagged and robbed of §1,000 as
she had reported, but that she had
| given the money to her lover, who lost
ra. | it at the Washington Park races. Mr.
| board are of the opinion that Very | coith is chief ¢raughtsman at the
graduate of the academy should bean | po foundry. Mrs. Smith mar-
| expert in the use of the rife, off hand | ied him seven years ago. Recently
| or lying down, at short or at long range, |
| . ; : | they determined to buy & home and
| completely understanding and compe- | | menced to save to tend, H
| tent to teach all that a scientific marks- | is that a somewhat noted gambler
| man ought to know. They recommend here, “Black Jack” Bass, was intimate
| that increased opportunities and in-| cps. pefore her marriage and their
| struction be given, with a view of | Loo. 0 pave continued since then.
Sin tie She xl lh | Dogo ete Rd 7
500 recommended fo Tew EV | ua ore prions a snk
sium, $5,000 for improving the cadet | 5 oo tly she gave hum the $1,000
laundry, $10.000 for improving the | i) pad been saved. Recently ber
blacksmith and other shops, $12.000 |, 05,3 asked her to bave the money
for removing the barracks for the cav- | ly that evening, as be intended to
alry detachment nearer the stables and | oo out ae 4 first instalment on the
i ! ¥
riding half, $6,000, dor Re et. | Purchase of a house. Meanwhile Bass
library By SAS | had Jost it. With the determination of
able provision for the departments of | committing suicide she set about wash-
chemistry and philosophy. The board | ing herself and otherwise making prep
recommends that the number of ap- | 404 for a presentable appearance in
pointments “at large” be restored 10 10 | o sy, While using the towel the happy
per year, | thought of gagging and robbing fiction
Like a Crater Valley,
The Beaver Basin, Wyoming, is for
all the world like a crater valley with
a huge cone towering in the middle, It
is 6,100 feet avove the sea level, and
| has two wells in partial running order
giving what is claimed to be the best
| lubricant in the American market, of a
lof a color like dark mahogany and
| smelling like a mixture of linseed oil
and balsam. Crossing the Rattlesnake
Basin in the third block to the east is a
curious congregation of tall, queer-
shapen sandstone groups, which look
in the distance like the building of a
city, so curiously did the water ‘work
in, out and around them hundreds of
years ago. Rattlesumke Basin is boun-
ded by step-like mils, from which
sléven streams of off flow. The ol
from these bottoms is of the heaviest
gravity at zero of the Beaume scale and
is very black, A shovelful when thrown
into water will sink immediately and is
of anasphaltum consistency, containing
jargely vaseline products,
Nature ae withien » letter Py credit
on some men’ which fs honored
suggested itself. Binding ber arms and
legs and disarranging her clothing, she
crawled out to the front door and made
the noise which brought the neighbors
Her story was that two
men disguised as plumbers had secured
entrance to the house and robbed ber.
The detectives arrested Bass on general
principles and he brought about the
confession of the woman.
Sireet.onr Fares in Seotiand.
Casa —
In many town in Scotland where
street railvways are in operation a cus-
tom is in vogue that is an improvement
on the American system. Instead of
charging a stated fare, from whic
there is no deviation on sccoaht of the
distance. the passanger travels, the cam
routes are laid off into districts, When
a gets on a oar he pays one
petmy, which takes him to the end of
that distoct, and then the conductor
ve-enters the car and collects
penny from each person, and eoutinue
doing so as each new district 18 entered
until (he terminus of the line is reached
By this means, a passenger ouly
for the distance he den
eheouraged to eutpe the AEs
he baa but a short distance to