Throwing Stones How easy ‘tis for us to give A sermon to our friends, Whose sharp and burning eloquence Our neighbors’ faults condemns ! How clear and deep our logic is, Our argument, how strong | And our conclusions—oh, what force And power to them belong ! Meanwhile, we did not touch upon Our own peculiar “oranks,” We'd rather teach our neighbors And condemn their freaks and pranks Our piceadilloes=—oh, but they Are very, very few! Correcting them is not the task, We've sot ourselves to do, We have the whole thing upstde down We've caught the wrong end first, "Tis by this very meddling The whole world ls sccurst, Lat each other mind his own affairs, And leave his friends alone Aud while we're ina} Don't lot ns thy A FADED LEA F, in hardly believe i Wa I « there was one person whom I should have thought wa from the at cf that pers eid, middle remote wneeoi matrimony, nm Was we * } § v } f sweet and bonny as any young bride of nineteen, notwithstanding her silver 1 i have lived with Aunt since mother die When I. her I was quite a little tot, ar im six and twenty, 0 you ma Aur then, it is good many years ago. ti woman bu have been a young somehow she hasalways seemed middle ain aged to me, and gentle and did everything She was always so n such a business-like way that I regarded her a different kind of being ni { om my rest [ have had my little but Au less excitable sel flirtations now and then, int Hetty seemed too grave, too wise, too good altogether, ever to be mixed up g so frivolous as a love af into anythin fair. It only shows how we may live almost togethe I with people in the same house, in the same room, for years and yet know little or nothing of thei f 3 4 i 1 feelings, [| remember’ almost as were yesterday, fancying one day, about a year ago, that more carefully dressed I know what the difference was—only sn auntie was than usual, th extra bit of lace or ribbon or somethis of that sort, but I said to “Why auntie dear how smart you are! » | 4 her in fun One would think you were agoing to a wedding!” “No, dear,” she said, ing to a wedding, but this should been my own silver wedding day.” And the dearlipquivered fora moment and a tear came into her soft gray eyes. “Your silver wedding, auntie! For give me; I didn't know" ‘‘No, dear,” she said, “of « It “But how was it, then, that you were all, I But perhaps | not Don't tell 1 yUTss you could not. is a very old story now.’ not married after auntie? en * tO ught 1e if it pains you lear,’ she said it Was 2 painful », but the pain has gone out of And [ thiok I should like to Perhaps some ‘rom making [{ is a very simpl ver juarrel, few bh 8 I and over in five minutes altered my whole life \ q The I not on you lover juarrel, aunt he fault was de e wrong, dear, The f AH was proud and angry + word would have given , but I would not wand we hh anger AVE the most of | patient living beings—you proud and angry an obstinate! | can't believe it!" R it true, ni the hassock I will tell vou: \y stor Yes 3 ) Sit here on at my feet and twon't y ong. [ sat down accordingly and with her hand resting on my shoulder and now and then wandering lovingly over my hair, she began “It happened when | was only eigh teen—younger than vou, Ruth, and full of life and very the faded old maid known me, ried, spirit different you | was engaged to be mar. My lover was four Years older than myself; he was a mate of a ship and a fine dashing young fellow named Ed. ward Blake, months and were to be married a month later. The day was fixed, and Edward had arranged to give up the sea and take a situation on land, We were as happy as any two young people could possibly be, but, unluckily, just a month before the time fixed for our wedding day, a pienic was got up by some of our friends, and Edward and 1 were of the party. There was a hand. some young fellow there named Percy Sandys, the son of a neighboring clergy- We had been engaged six from | { sooner than have t t] | me go now, understand clear doa't | | should still have | | Th gor e. “I am not go- | have | y | ake | bou | . terrible cross and [ thought it rather good man. He was fresh from the college, and full of fun and frolic. I chanced to be placed next to him at luncheon, and not knowing, as | afterwards discovered that I was engaged, he was specially attentive tome. 1 did not care for his attention in the least; but 1 was in { high spirits and only bent on the enjoy | ment of the moment, and I did not | check him as perhaps [ ought to have Presently I caught sight of Ed. { ward's face, and saw that he was looking Foolishly, I | done, angry. fun him jealous; and, on purpose to tease | him, [ pretended to tuke all the more | finished luncheon the party scattered and strolled about the woods in various 1 Ed rather rons |} na i expect ward to a comyj 1m but he to waght, held aloof, and Mr. rudely, as | th punish him, [ paired off with Sandys When the party got } { wrds looked so that | him savage pr woke meh u I my temper, k enough 10 lake 0 Ruth, thoug | think me a heartle him little-mix If ridiculous by | We and finally he t that | promise to behave different! made himse vbhle ealou y ter not adm 1d been ture, all must be over between y tim hay Edward with me, but | would have dis Id him so wnswer and His last ir tensity I I: ‘Hetty, if you 3 sooner then | gave him a bitter still. tered with all the rds Pies Erew angrier wi ot n ring still in my ean tell them word for wor ly you wi did if 1 hs At to give never see my ce again,’ quite believe h Perhaj any f , + was far too te angry “10 by all means, i way ¢ bh) then, | | sald, and in another moment he was I had heen tearing to pieces, in my passion, a little spray of hawthorn he had given me in the day. I had pull ed off the leaves one by one, snd when le my remaining fq § i my ar the bare stem of he left me was left in l¢ only with it hand, ne , the last relic « " See, here and last k God grant that in your whole MAY never wept © d. with always carrie 1 book, owed me just within | po th opend {and sh 11 yere ket attached to wi said was i , and this old dry the day whe the wood, n never W again in this world, Stay | ne more treasure, see! Id fashion face, but 1d | could 1} y ! n It was a hand UNE Man in ar havi cribed it wu did 1 I on re i YOU ever He ty, | the lid not go back | to pienic ut join¢ an itward id pa 1 | a brief note for my mother, stating that | | | we had fortunately found out to in Lime that we were unsuited cach other, | and had therefore by mutual consent, put an end to our engagement,’ ‘But that was very cruel, I thought so then, auntie Perhaps it was have always |a little, but afterwards I blamed myself I had provocation, and I knew in far more than him, given the my heart of hearts that one word of pegret on my part would Rave made all right between But 1 was too proud to say it, | let Bim go with my cyes open and | have beet justly punished.” “But have you never heard of him since, auntie?" “Once or twice, in early « years, but only indirectly, He had no relatives in our part of the eountry, I that he gave up the ses, and obtained a commission in some Indian regiment. W hen last | heard of him he was a eaptain, but that was many years ago, and I do not know us. whether he is alive or dead, So ends | to make | { notice of Mr. Sandy's. When we had my poor little romance, There is one thing I should like te ask, Ruth, and that is partly why [I bave told you my story, You have seen my They have been my greatest treasure in life, and I should like them put in my coffin when | die. this dear?” I could not answer for but 1 kissed her hand and she content, Two months ago, tired of our hum relies, Will you remember tears, was drum country life, auntie and | resolved Accord | ingly, we went to Boulegne and took up for once, tovisit foreign parts, | our abode in a quiet boarding-house in Ruedes Vieillards, Our domicile | the been originally a nunery and afterwards | to have been occupied for a short time ww the great Napoleon when meditating 1 | wl way, flanked on « a decen n ng and A bro gate LOT field-guns, pl inted upwright together Be | did not reappear until dinner lime | | matters stood until ou wish it," | | was about to replace it, bu led the « hip the very next day, leaving | | and we passed out i { wand way of § . le by post pleasant courtya i. with s=eats under y Rg Lree thie had preadir and made h of a modest foun splas han he was {some mplexic as if tanned t al sun ir pi inge, t 1 iful tting rathe and them, TEM diff \ A Bi ght timidly, to help | utof a { of this } im 1 ind, and in this manner up weeed vd the 1 RCCQUAINLAD( betwed It further than e had sprung n bh pr y friendly Eo ACTORS us iad, Fever, Bn ( ssual rem ark table. Wi } visitors the After | he regularly smoked one the he started off for a solitary ramble, fraternized even le reak fast 88, RAT under tree in the courtyard, after which and So the first evening after our arrival, when we wen ttle Er sh adjoining street, We the pews aj propriated for strangers, and a minute Sunday as in duty bound, to the : church ushered int in a were y One of | or two later the Major was shown into the same pew, and sat down silently be side us, The service n the proceeded AD { the the M» lental movement of his elbow ususl course Sermo 5 by nea ly over, whet ir, ‘0 KD ke jown auntie’s little red prayer book which was on the slo He i~ige ping er. sooped to pick it } 1] in view in the full glare of ti [ his eye chanced to fall uj ried as the i ata rh he had wn the book fore him, but it seemed t book vdvantage head wi Was even read Lhe name 1 manly handwriting. | stared aghast and glan he but she had pr ybably not not “" fer mpertinence, Hetty to see whether would res e for she mad no sign ngregation began to disp rae, the We were searce The eo in our turn, Maior close behind us, y fairly in the street when he spoke to auntie “Madam, | am going to ask you =» very singular question, but let me as sure you that [ have a deep personal interest in asking it. Will you tell how you came by that red prayer book that you use.” I shall never forget given as quickly ss if it were the most commonplace matter, though I could tell by the faint roseflush on her usual ly pale cheek how deeply she was mov ed me auntie’'s answer, “You gave it to me yourself, Major Blake, six and twenty vears ago. The Major's face was a study. Sar prise, delight, and incredulity seewed struggling for the mastery. le took off his hat and stood bareheaded, 1 hard. ly know why, but that one little gest ure seemed to tell me, better than the most passionate protestations would was a quaint old house, said to have | have done, that the old love bad been | kept a treasured and a sacred thing. | And | think, from the faint sweet smile that gathered round her mouth as she looked up at him, that the same thought came to auntie, “And you are Hetty!" he said, “Yes | know you now." “You had forgotten twenty years. Maj. Blake. from the first.” “And would you really the I knew you six and have let me go without a word or a sigh ?"’ he asked, Why not?" she replied. “How could I know you would wish to be reminded of old times 7" | “Reminded ! I have never forgotten [ tried my hardest to forget, and couldn't { although you preferred another” | love in the person | Indy with the sweet ance | Another! what other? ‘Young Sandys. Did you marry him “Il have never seen him since, \t this st Age that of the conversatio truck me I was decided] Vv Blake had replaced h hat, side with auntie, I was b vd reachis J walking homeward [let they wr aunt indead, lon't head doubth sre two old § KNOW ner ‘Nay, dear, her hand gallant) we were young fools, but Lt that i twenty vears ag Let us hopes we ) 1 learned true w 11 ’ 8A now, Il don't know how the secret oozed out, but before twenty-four hours were over every one in the boarding house, even to white-capped Adele and her as knew that the hand had the sistant maidens some English Ms met an old gent smile and the soft } of le little gray hair,and that after a separation of again Were six-and twenty vears they were engaged to be married, and they promoted to the rights and privileges of a Lo A enguged lovers accordir And lovers they unm of twenty «i than this his re pre erheaten warrior faded seventeen ud happy In ver's devofi« i than ry rule, to have been r ulous | BOT noho seemed to think belie they had the hegrt n the house iy on eYer one ihe} ymeward jour shmentofour friend ery md been made or aantiy Is the spend her oneyin the little red pra Ruth, dear, [| am going to his tle t k as a parting You how | have it, and you give remember ¥e \ d | am sure And if, Vi Kno treasure won't value it les for having been so dem Mt 10 in Ruth, ever tempted to be wilful, that truly, think of your old Aunt Hetty, and don"t when Right comes a Are or wayward loves you or pain a heart forget the moral of the faded leaf.” — 4 A— If you want to keep a town from thrivingdon’t erect any more dwellings than you can conveniently occupy yourself, If you should ascidentally have an empty building, and any one { should want to rent it, ask three times i the value of it. Demand a Shylock price for every foot of ground that God hos given you stewardship over. Tarn a cold shoulder to every mechanic and business man who seeks to make a | home with you. Look at every new comer with a scowl. Ran down the work of new workmen, Go abroad for wares rather then seek to do business in your midst, Fail to advertise, or in any way to support a newspaper, that people abroad may not know whether business is going on in your town or not, Wrap yourself with a coat of impervi ous selfishness, There is no more ef feotunl way to retard the growth of a town than aotions like those enumera. ed,’ Horrace Greely, | = ~—~AT THE— Job Office nd Have YourJo OHEAPLY, NEATLY AND WITH DIPATEH. Now is the Time to Subscribe FOR THE "CENTRE DEMOCRAT,” The LARGEST and CHEAPEST Paper in Bellefonte. ONLY $1.50 PER YEAR, IN ADVANCE. OFFICE: COR. ALLEGHANY & BISHOPSTS BELLEFONTE, PA.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers