Centre Democrat. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1848-1989, April 27, 1882, Image 3
Serenade. Stan of the stimraor night! Far in yon azuro deeps, ' Hid®, hide your uoldeu light I She slecpal My lady sleeps! Sleep*! Moon of tho (umranr night! Far down yon western stoops, Sink, eink in silver lightl She sloops! My lady aloepsl Sleep*! Wind of tho summer night! Whore yondor woodbine creeps! Fold, fold thy pinions light! She sleeps! My lady sleeps! Sloops! Dreams of tho summer night! Tell her, her lover keeps Watch! while in eiutnbcia light She sleeps! My lady sleeps! Sleeps! l.on<jfMou>. OUR NEWSMAN. nr Tin: Aonll HI oi " it OBEX'S ru nnw." His name was Ellis Marston; this I learned without any special desire to know it, from the bill which ho ren dered monthly for tho daily papers that he delivered at my house. Tho bill itself, being for a small amount, was one of the sort that a man last remem bers when in the humor for paying bills, so I saw its maker's name several times before I paid it. One morning onr servant told me, while I was at breakfast, that a gentle man, who desired to seo me, was in the parlor; ho had not given her his card, and sho had not fully understood his name. I found the early caller to be Ellis Marston, my newsman, but I was not at all surprised that tho servant had unhesitatingly admitted him, and an nounced him as a gentleman, for he had a refined face and good manners, whilo his clothes, although far from new, fitted him well and wore of taste fnl cut. In paying his bill I made as many apologies as I would have done to any gentleman whom I had subjected to de lay and annoyance. As whilo waiting for mo he had opened a volume of Browning that lay upon tho table, and had not closed it up to tho time that I entered the room, I promptly assumed that he had more literary taste than the generality of men in his business, and a moment or two of conversation, begun haphazard upon the book in his band, satisfied me not only that I was right but that ho knew far more than 1 about modern English poetry. At that particular hour my time was precious, and my mind crowded with interests temporarily moroprociona than poetry; so to express in somo way, and quickly, the respect which the man's manner had exacted, I increased my order by asking him to serve me with several weeklies and monthlies that 1 had been in the habit of purchasing at whatever news-stand I first saw them on, and ilia pleased expression as ho made note of my order and bowed him aelf out pnt me on very good tonus with myself for the remainder of the day. So seldom had I seen a man who seemed superior to bia position in life, that Ellia Marston's face presented itself frequently to my memory dnring several days that followed; so one ; evening, obtaining his address from his billhead, I strolled out to gratify my curiosity about the man. I found him iu a little shop fairly filled with periodicals and stationery, with a small circulating library on shelvo* at the rear. An order for a foreign review was the exense for the visit, which I prolonged by offering him a good cigar, which be lighted with evident satisfaction, and we soon engaged in a plessant chat about books. , I looked over the titles of the vol umes in his circulating library, and cx pressed my surprise that the general public read works of s character so high; he replied, with a sigh, that the public did not read them to any extent; that they were the bnlk of his own li brary, and he loaned them for whatever they might bring.ratber than leave them untouched on hia shelves at home. While we were chatting a vory pretty, well-dressed lady, whose face waa rather vacant, except for an expression of im patience, entered the store, and Mars ton hurried forward to meet her. She did not aeem to want to pcrchase anything, but conversed rapidly and in a low tone with Marston, and departed after he banded her some money. She looked utterly unlike any ordi nary business creditor, and I inspect some wonder expressed itself in my face, for, aa the proprietor rejoined m he explained, very quietly, in just two words: " Mrs. Maraton." Then I sew in an instant that Mara ton had made a very unfortunate mar riage, bat, after the untruthful manner of aootcty 1 complimented him on hia good fortune in having eo aightly a companion, and he acknowledged my •felicitations with fine dignity, but not a sign of entbualaam. It was very evident to my mind as I sanntered homeward that evening that Marston's wife innst be extravagant and unreasonable, and that her bntibnud would never save money with which to onter a better business, unless he had *omo holp; go, for soveral days, I sjsfe matically tortured publishers among my acquaintance to make a place for our nowsman But I soon loarned that Marston's prosont position was not that in which ho had begun business. lie had been a respectable bookseller in tho interior, whero ho married a beauti ful girl who longed to livoin New York, so ho sold out and re-established him self in tho metropolis. Everybody liked him, but everybody said he rniued his credit and then his business by failing to pay bin bills. I found a general sup position that ho secretly indulged a passion for gambling; onosolid old fel low, though, suggested that no man conld maintain his business if ho grat ified all the whims ui a woman like Mrs. Marston. "Then why doesn't lie explain to her?" I asked. Tho old fellow gave a hard, dry langb. " I'eaco is cheap at any price," paid he. " But any reasonable woman —I began, when I was interrupted with : "Huch women are not reasoning bo ings. No woman is who loves self lirst and husband alterward." Tliis seemed hard lsngnage to n?o aboat so pretty a woman as Mrs. Mars ton, bnt I could not deny that tho old fellow was right. Occasionally afterward I met Mars ton, fometimes at his shop, where he always was glad to have mo and a cigar drop in unexpectedly ; oftener. how ever, I saw him at tho door of theater or opera lionso, waiting for his wife. Ho ouco explained to mo that ho could not afford to olosu the .shop an 1 accom pany his wife. One night, howevor, returning from a club dinner at au Lour when many peo- I pie were already awake, I met Marston on a street-ear, with an immense load of newspapers from Printing Ilonso square, and without an overcoat, althongh tho weather was bitterly cold. He seemed somewhat ashamed of his appearance and work, but chatted about books moro brilliantly than ever before, and as we got ofT tho car at the sarno street, I insisted, when we reached my door, that lie had been very impru dent to expose himself, and that he mnst wear my overcoat for the rest of the night; indeed, he mnst keep it, if he wonld. for rough work, and save the better one that I had seen him wear, for mine was old, and too tight for me. : who was much stouter thar. he. Then f went to bed and lay awake for an hour wondering if there was no possible way I of doing anything for Marston. 1 soon found that there was. His bill came in on the first day of tho month, and that evening a very line-looking | b< y of abont ten years, nod unmistak ably Marston's son, called to say father was quite sick, and would l>o glad to ! liavo the amount of the lull that oven j r.g if convenient. As I had never been able to learn that • Marston had any friends, I sent him, ! with the money, a note expressing re gret at his illness and asking if I could be of any service to him. Within an honr the boy returned with a note expressing Maraton's thanks for my sympathy, and saying that if I had an honr to spare, and would not object to chatting with a sick man, who, nevertheless, would promise not to talk abont himself, he would bo very grateful, nis wife was going to tho theater, and his son was temporarily in charge of tho shop, so ho would lie quite alone, and wonld not object to tobacco-smoke if I wonld ex cuse him for not smoking with me. I accepted his invitation, and fonnd Marston on a lounge in the parlor of a little flat in an unfashionable street, but everything about the room indi cated comfort and good tasto. Marston told mo that be had suf fered by a sadden attack of plenriay, but believed himself now ont of dan ger, althongh he felt very weak. I complimented him on the charming effect of bis room, and be was so pleased that he chatted alio til one thing after another on the walls, brackets and mantels, nntil I learned, without bis intending it, that he and not bis wife had selected and arranged the deoora tions. His conversation was as bright as ever, so I soon forgot he was a sick man, and I neglected to look at my watch. I was therefore surprised, by the retnrn of Mrs. Marston from the theater, to learn that midnight was not an honr distant. Marnton Intro Joced me to the lady, who gave mo • greciona amile, and im medfatelj began talking of the play aha had jnat aeeti, Mking me if 1 did not think that certain actora in the com pany—one familiar to all New Yorker* —were not aplendid, and whether the leading lady'a dreeaea were not exqniaite. tier enthnaiaam waa charming, and ao waa the play of her feainree while ehe talked of the performance; bat when, 'en minntee after her arrival, aheaakeo her hoaband bow he waa feeling, eht did it ao liatleealy and meohaaieelly that I departed with a distinct oonvic tion that Marston's homs-life was not what it should be. Two or thrco days afterward, as I left home before daylight to catch an early morning train, tho newspapers of tho day struck tho front door as I opened it, and I recognized the figure of tho retreating carrier as that of Marston. I also he ml a cough that made mo ap prehensive as to tho health of my nows man. For a moment I was inclined to follow him and warn him against im prudence, but I had no timo to sparo, so I hurried to my train. On my return; two days later, I found that Marston's son had called several times within a few hours, I immedi ately hurried to the shop, btit finding it closed, went on to Marston's resi dence. Mrs. Marston received mo at the door. "I um afraid your husband has suf fered a relapse," raid I. "Yes," said she, "and isn't it too bad ? 110 was to have got me a pass to ——'s benefit to-night. I'm dread fully disappointed. ' Tho moment I saw Marston I feared that tho end had esmo. His faco was strained, his eyes bloodshot, and ho breathed with difficulty. His boy knelt by the bod ode, with one arm thrown ucross his father, and with moro sorrow and apprehension in liifl faco than I ever saw in human countenance before. "Whore is the physician V 1 asked. "He —why, Ellis did not think he needed one, and I agreed with him ; he seems only to have a heavy cold, and has been doctoring himself." I sent his boy for my own doctor, who lived only u few squares away. Tho little fellow was loath to go, but something that I whispered to] him sent him off in haste, only to return with word that the doctor was not in. Meantime I responded to an invitation from Mars ton's eyes, and leaned over him. •'Excuse me," he gasped; "but I have no friends—no relatives—any where near. \T ill von—be—my eiccn torr "Certainly," I replied. He drew from beneath bis pillow a piece of paper that proved to l>e a will, very short but to the point. " Witnesses—quick I" ho whispered, hoarsely. I turned quickly toward his wife, but lie seized my arm and said "Don't frighten—her. Let me—tlie— it peace." I excused myself for a moment to Mrs. Marston, who was reading the evening paper, and hurried downstairs for witnesses, returning almost at once with a grocer from the nearest corner, and a policeman whom I persuaded to leave his boat. Then Mrs. Marston was alaruied, but stood helplessly in the background as tho dying man signed his will and the two men affixed their signature*. When the witnesses departed, Mrs. Marston asked mo what was the mat ter, and when I told her that her bus band had thought it only proper to make a will, as he should have done before falling sick, sho ejaculated "Oh!" in a reassured tone, and said that the scene had reminded her of one that she had seen in some play. I resume 1 my position at the bed side, kneeling to catch tho words tlist Marston found hard to utter. The boy, on returning, knelt also and took hi* father's band. " Tho stock—and—good will of—the shop—ought—to give—her enough to —bury me and—get her back—to—her family. Advise her—to go—to them She—is a good woman— bnt Now York's —no place for—bar. My boy " Just here M irston's voice failed him; lie straggled, thrnst one arm toward a chair near tho bed and took a small bottle. I took it from him, saw "Brandy" on the label, poured ita en tire contents into a glass and helped him to raise his head so as to drink it. As soon as his head touched tho pillow again, he whispered : "My boy—he is a noble fellow. What will become—of him, God—God only knows. His mother knows nothing —about boys—and she can't seem to learn. Would you watch him—a little, and save him if yon—can ? He's worth all that—can be done for him." I did not know what I conbl do in the future, but I looked into Marston's eyes, and then into the boy's, and pat one arm aronnd the little fellow, and drew him close to my aide ; his father seemed to understand, and the look he gave mo was fall payment in advance for all I have doue or can do for the child. Mrs. Marston conld not have heard any of our conversation, for ber hus band could barely whisper; besides, •be was deeply interestel in whatever she was reading. Marston put forth both bands, taking one of mine; and laying the other upon his boy's head. There was a moment of silence, in whioh be looked earnestly at me and pressed my band vary hard. Suddenly be started, raieed himself on one elbow rad almost shouted: Floral" "One moment," replied his wife, still reading, as the boy nod I regained >nr feet end made room for her. Again vfaraton exclaimed, extending no arm ae be did. •• Flora r " Goodness f How impatient you are I" replied tho lady, orumpling her nuwspuper in her hand and turning to ward the bed. Bnt her son sprang quickly in front of bis father, Marston's arm encircled him, and the boy, with a quick cm brace, screamed : " Papa I" Mrs. Marston bad by this timo reached tho bedside, saying, icily: "Mr. Marston, allow mo to sug gest—" • T in- - ... „j " Excuse mo, madame," said I, bnt be cannot hear you. He is in another world now." , ■ Then Mrs. Marston broke into tcarH and pitiful exclamations, for although her heart was very small it was not bad. For almost five minutes I was com pelled to respect hor; after that, how ever, her lamentations wero all for her self, so after promising to arrange tho details of tho funeral, and saying a few words to tho I toy, with the hopothat he would understand that I would always try to be a father to him, I departed. A day or two after Mrs. Msrston gavo mo p, sealed envelope, addressed to me, that she found under her husband's pil low. 11 contained a number of pawn tickets and a note, written a day or two before Marston's death, asking mo if I would redeem tho articles and save them for his son; they had all been pawned for money that bis wife wanted when he could not take a penny out of his business without mining him self. Among them I found a watch, an opera-glass, two meerschaum pipes, some club badges, a silver cup with an inscription that showed it had boen given Marston when he was a baby, a handsome copy of Khakespeare, a vel vet dressing-gown, a sword that its owner bad worn during the war. a gold hoa led cane and many small articles of jewelry, including the dead man's wad ding ring. Mrs. Marston became resigned to the will of Providence when I told her that tho good-will and stock of the shop would bring a thousand dollars. Her mourning garments became her |>ecu liar style of l>couty so well that she found great eomfort in them, but soon put thorn off at the solicitation of a dashing young broker, who, I hope, will marry her, for she has fully as much heart as a man of his kind will ap preciate, and will relieve him of any anxiety as to what to do with his money. Her son promises to become a fine fel low, and has a friend who will eoc that be never repeats his father's blunder of marrying a girl merely for her beauty. —John Habbrrf'yn. A Discouraged Borrower. Pete Freer is always hard np for money, and is everlastingly Irving to borrow from his friends. Colonel An drews has got plenty of money, bnt he ioea not like to lend it to IVle, for fear ho would forget all about it. On tho first of tlie month IVte met Colonel Vndrews and said to him : "Can yon lend me half a dollar for afowminntes? I want to pay my landlady." •' I am irry, Pete, bnt yesterday I let George torner have the last half-dollar I bad • bout roe, otherwise I would bo proud to lend it to yon." Next day Pete made mother attempt to borrow half a dollar from Andrews, who said he had on tho day before paid ont bis last cent for taxes; but for that Uc would lot Poto have the money in a minnto. On the next day Pcto made another attempt to get that half-dollar, bnt Colonel Andrews said ho bad, on the Jay previous, been paying bis pew rent and it took tho last cent ho had, otherwise ho wonld take pleasure in lending Pete as mnch money as he needed; that there was no man in Anatin whom ho respected as mnch as ho did Pcto Freer. On the succeeding lay Pete once more tackled Andrews, who remembered that he had on the day before contributed tho only half dollar he bad to the erection of an Alamo monument, otherwise be wonld ho prond to advance Pete the cash. Pete began to lose hope, and yesterday when he met Andrews on Austin avw une, instead of asking him for tho hal f dollar ho merely inquired: " i say, colonel, what did yon do yesterday with that half dollar yon oan't lend me to day."— Texan Sifting*. Aust r alian Vanities*. It is not easy to grasp tbo enormous bulk of tbe Australian continent—the practically unlimited space within which the oolonies have room to grow. The colony of Victoria, the smallest and at the same time the most popu lous and highly developed of the con tinent group, a about as large as Great Britain; New South Wales has an area Ave times that of England, bnt ia not half so big as Queensland, and not only a third of the sise of South Australia Western Australia ia even larger and more empty of population; after meas uring acres with South Australia it would almost have sufficient lend to furnish out New Zealand and Tasmania, and yet New Zealand eomperee In area with the British islands, and Tasmania is nearly ea large as Scotland.—Edin tmrgk SccXtman, MOR.VL A.M KKLKHOI'M. Mpall li Mai. Hero is an alphabet which will make you study. Oet out your Bible and turn to the places. When you have found them, read and remember: Au * monatrb, wlm reltrnrd In tie- Kul K* liter t: J, Bwu a Chal'leo who maSe a co-at f<-**L Man. S: 1-4. CV Wit* vcrvlou* wltso oilier* t/ild Ilea. J Hum. IS: SO-n. Dwa* a woman, heroic and wlae. Judge* 4: 4-'. 4. T.S waa a refuge, wbt-ra Marld i>arel Haul. 14 1 Ham. 24: 1-7. T.S wa* a Human aecuaer of Paul. .T Acta U: I. ( "1 wa* a garden, a frequent reaort. IT John l*: l, I; Malt. IS: SS. Hwa* a city, where Mavld held court. • Ham. t: Z [wa* a mocker, a very bat] hoy. lien. IS: IS. Jwa* a city, prepared a* a joy. I'aa. 137: S. Kwa a father, wboae *on wa* unite tall. 1 Ham. I: 1,1 I war a proud one, who bad ago at fail. J iaa. 14: 11. Mwai a nephew, whore uncle waa good. Col. 4: 10; Acta 13 : 14. Nwa* a city, lone hid where It rtood. 7-eph. 1: 13. (v waa a aervant. acknowledged * toother. J Philemon 1: IS. 1) waa a (TtrUllan. greeting another. I Tim. 4: 11. |> wa* a damat l. who knew a man'* vi ce. IV Sail a aovei' •, who made a trad choice. 1 King* 11: 4-11. f|S wa* a araprjrt, where preaching war long 1 Acta ): S, i. XT wa* a teamrter, rtruck dead for hi* wrong. J 2 Haw. 4: 7. \f wit* a cat-otT, and nerer re-tored. K*ther 1: 11. /wa* a rutn, with rorrow deplored. p.a 137: 1. —Churth l/awa IfrllitoiiM NFWI and S.le. The M'lkwliM LM return* indicating tlie reclamation of nearly 40,000 souls •ince January 1. The Methodists of Washington Ter ritary hare decided to establish a col lege at Spokane Fills. The Engliah clutch secures and spends for bnildir.g and repainng church's about $3,000,000 per annum. There is a marked increase in the number of the theological students in Germany. In 1173 there were 1,53G; last year, 2.3HL Easter this year, a writer in Note* and Qwne* states, was kept on the an niversary of tho day on which the res urrection actually occurred. The Moravians number in this oonn try 9,637 communicants a gain of ltd during the first year. Twenty-five were excluded and 913 "dropped" during the year. Of the flro bishops of the Southern Methodist church, Bishop Paine is not expected to do much more active ser vice, Bishop Pieroe feels tho weight of years, Bishop Kavanaugh is over fonr aoore, and Bishop Keener, though not old in years, has not robust health. Bisbop McTyeire is strong and active. Tho Methodist missionary report states that the society has ninety-nine missionaries and seventy assistant mis sionaries, 21S native ordained ministers, 227 native local preachers, 28,127 mem bers aqd 8,712 probationers, showing a gain of 1,425 members and a loss of twenty-five probationers. The number of missionaries engaged in domestic missions was 2,246. The total of mem bers was 21,151, and of probationer*, 3,418. Sculptors' Stories. Sculptors who cxecnte busts often hear droll things said. Hero arc two anecdotes taken from a French news paper: A sculptor had produced the likeness of a celebrated personage, in whose biography it is mentioned that he regarded architecture as a very secondary art. The son of thia person age visited the artist's stndio for the purpose of examining the bust, when, after considering it with the air of a connoisseur, he said: "Conld yon not express more clearly his oontempt for architecture ?" Another time it was the husband of a beloved deceased wife, who came to see her bust. "Pray, etndy it well," said the artist; "it is only in the clay, and I can still alter it." Tho widower looked at it with tho most tender in terest. "It is her very self I" be ex claimed; "her lar go nose—the sign of goodness I* Then bunting into tears he added: "She was so good. Uake the nose a little larger 1" Why the LHUe Chicken* Hay " reve." A citisen of onr county tell* the fol lowing M a true fact: He had a choice hen setting on nienteen eggs. One morning on paying the hen a visit he found that she had left the nest, and he soon peroelred that a large black snake had cnrled itself within the nest. Opon seeing this the gentleman stepped back, gathered a stick, and killed the snake. On cntting off the head of the snake be took it by the tail, shaking it OTN the nest, the nineteen eggs dropping back into the nest The eggs being left in the neet the ben returned to her seat, and in due time she had hatched eighteen little chickens, said by those who have seen them to bo rare euriosi ties. This peculiarity is noticed in the little chickens as being afraid of every •tick they tee, running beck from e eUok in the greeteat terror, ottering the ery of " pare."—Aweno.. (Wa.) R*pmi>- fioen. How a Lawyer Silled Hla Wife. Tt In not often that • more remarkable story in beard in a court-room than waa told by Lawyer O. J. Landing, of Eu reka, Nev., on trial for the killing of bin wife. When he took the witneaa ntand the grief in bin face hunhed the bar and the spectators into a pitying silence. lie began by declaring thai be bad oonaonted to aay what he woald have to aay about the dead only upon the urgent requirement of hie counsel, and for the nako of hie daughter. Then be gave the jury the hiatory of hia married life. Ever aince 1864 it had been, be aaid, wretched in all ways. Hia wife took to liquor. She waa a powerful woman—fully hia equal in atrengtb. When drunk the waa vio lent, ferocious. Bbe repeatedly at tacked Lira, threatening to kill him, and, aa ho believed at the time, mean ing to carry out her threat. Hho throw rocks at hia head, poured boiling water over him, tried on several occasions to atab him with the carving knife, once at leant drawing blood. She followed him into court, making such a dis turbance that the police had to remove her by force. Bhe burst into hia office and heat him over the head with a raw hide till the blood streamed down hia face. Bhe beat hia little daughter with an iron poker. " I felt like letting loose all holds," be aaid, " and I drank heavily, too." Once or twice he decided to leave her; Ouee he bonght poison and waa on the point of swallowing it when be thought of bis daughter and threw it away. Last year matters grew worse, until a night came when he did not dare to sleep under the same roof with her, and called in a neighbor. They tied her wrists and ankles with silk handker chiefs. "I'll kill you for this, sure," she screamed. At daylight ahe prora aod to behave, and they unbound her. At her request he irent out for two bot tles of champagne for her to "sober up on." He wandered about ail da/, shunning hia acquaintances, trying to straighten himself up. "I could not be atill in any place," he aaid. "I could neither stand up nor sit down —had to walk all the time." At dusk be went home. The Chinaman had finished his work and gone for the night. Hia wife came through the kitchen and went down cellar—as he supposed to get whisky ; "she often hid a bottle down there." When she came up, he spoke of going down town. ••You—," she said, " I'm fixed for yon, and you shan't leave this housel" He tried the door; it was loeked. He turned sround ; bis wife wss right in iront of him, her hand pressed to her hip. " I'll kill you I I'll kill you!" ahe •creamed. In a frenty of utter ner vousness and terror he caught up some thing—it was a kitchen chair—and struck her. Ho saw her lying at hia feet Then he found himaelf out in the street—be had no remembrance how be got there—looking np at the dark win dows of hit neighbor's house and de ciding not to wake him up. Then all is blank again in his mind until a later hour when he was standing in front of the sheriff and uttering the words, " I have killed my wife." The jury were out twenty minutes. When they came back it waa with a verdict of " not guilty." A PernHar business. Mis* Nellie Webber, of New York, describes herself as "an artist and manufacturer of memorials." Her fac to rj in the Bowery is littered with pio tnre frames, the wood of which they are made, type cases, a printing pre*, wax flowers and leaves, and cardboard. Many yonng women are employed there and six salesmen are kept buy outside. She showed a reporter a memorial ready for delivery. It consisted of an ornate frame a foot square, glazed and contain ing a black card on which in gilt was printed the words: "In memory of George Byrne, died April 7, 1882, aged thirty-four years" This was followed by s few tonching lines of mortusry ver*% and the whole was encircled by flowen in white wax, bordered with a deep binding of white satin. There was a apses opposite the printing for the re ception of a carte de visile or a lock of the hair of the person of whom it was a memorial, but as neither was furnished in this oase, a big wax flower was af fixed to the card on that side. "Yon see there are 600 deaths a weak in New York," said Miss Webber, "and lately the number has risen to 700 and even 800. I get all the death and send my talesmen to the houses with samples of ths memorials, sad they gat a great many orders. The memorials sell for St 50 eeoh, whether cash is paid or only a dollar paid down and the rest In weekly installments. I have patented the idea, have been la business five years, and have a branch in Louisville, Ky., and another in In diana polia" The is* ehotild be ted bat little eon daring the list two month* of her pregnane*. Her diet should avoid thai which it so heating and fattening. Oats, bran, middlings and beets are a great deal better than the oorn diet of the Wert.