Swf a ""; : r' "'"' si Mill liyyjp- Ak INDEPENDENT FAMILY NEWSPAPER. " .JSS!-' "Vol. -ril. IVoav Klooiiiflolcl, Tuesday, March 11, 1873. TVo. 10. 18 punUBHEU EVERT TUESDAY MORSINO, BY FBANK JIOETIMEE & CO., At New Bloomfleld, Terry Co., Ta. Bolng provided with Btenm Power, and largo Cylinder and Job -Presses, we are prepared to do all kinds of Job-PrlntliiR lu good style and at Low Prices. ADVERTISING KATK8I Tramtmt 8 Cents per lino for one Insertion 13 two Insertions 15 "three Insertions Business Notices In Local Column 10 Cents per line. Notices of Marrlaees or Deaths inserted Tree. Tributes of Respect, Ac., Ten cents per lino. YEARLY ADVERTISEMENTS. One Inch one year $10,00 Two Inches " " 1 18.00 jFor longer yearly adv'ts terms will be given upon application. CLEANSING nr.Es. Let thy gold be cast In the furnace, Thy red gold, precious and bright; Do not f oar for the hungry tire, With Its caverns of burning light. And thy gold shall return more precious, Free from every spot and stain : For gold must be tried by lire. As a heart must be tried by pain? In the cruel tire of sorrow i Cast thy heart, do not faint or w all s Lot thy hand be firm and steady, Do not let thy spirit quail. But wait till the trial Is over, And take thy heart again; For, as gold Is tried by lire, Ho a heart must be tried by pain ! I shall know by the gleam and the glitter Of the golden chain you wear. By your heart's calm strength in loving, Of the tire you have had to bear. Beat on, true heart, forever ; Shine bright, strong, golden chain: And bless the cleansing tire, And the furnace of living pain! The Lost Dahlia. rrWIERE was trouble at tho great white I stuccoed Iioubo on the hill-side, with its extensive gardens and grounds, over looking the little village. Its mistress, Mrs. General Harmon was very angry ; and the gardener was in disgrace, threatened with dismissal ; and all the servants and all the family were more or less uncomfort able through the vexed temper of Madame. And yet the cause of it all was a very slight thing in itself merely the loss of a flower root a dahlia. But then Mrs. Harmon would havo told you what she had already repeated a bun . dred times, that this dahlia was a very unique and consequently precious species ; that she had purchased it in France, at a high price, one of two plants which an old disabled soldier, with a taste for flowers, had, he said, succeeded in producing by means of several successive years of careful culture and experiment ; and above all she had been certain of this dahlia taking the prize offered at the approaching great hor ticultural fair, for the finest and rarest specimen of flowers. Several other valuable ones she had, but this particular dahlia, " l'lmperatrice," as the old Frenchman had called it, in honor of "la belle Eugenie This dahlia was to be the crowning glory of all. Never before bad been seen a dahlia of such size, of such perfect formation, and of a hue so gorgeously unique a vivid tinge between richest carmine and most glowing crimson, tipped at the edges with imperial purple. And now the precious root was lost ; and Mrs. Senator Rivers, the other great and rich lady of tho neighbor hood, and Mrs. Harmon's rival in most things Mrs. Senator Rivers would cor- tainly obtain tne prize and honor ol pos sessing which the mistress of Fairview was so anxiously, and some people said, so fool ishly ambitious. " It must have been Duncan's fault," said Mrs. Harmon, excitedly. "He was careless with it I cannot conceive how otherwise the root could havo been lost. I remember perfectly that after myself tak ing it out of the jar of sand, I placed the bulb in somo dry moss in a corner of the greenhouse shelf, and pointed it out to Duncan, tolling him that it must be set out ' to-day. And now it is not to be found I and no one but Duncan has entered the greenhouse since I left It yesterday. He has been making some arrangements there, he sys clearing away rubbish ; and no doubt he misplaced and lost the bulb. I have several times lately observed him to be careless aud I suspect, lazy." '.' Oh, no, mamma 1" observed Emma, a gontlo, kindly-looking girl of fifteen " not lazy, only old you know, and not so brisk as pooplo who are younger. He has been complaining of rheumatism " "You know nothing about it, child," said her mother, impatiently. " My splen did dahlia 1" bore the tears actually came into her eyes, and sho added, " I gave the value of twenty-five dollars for it ; and I would give as much again for its recovery." " Fifty dollars, mamma, for a flower 1" " For a flower such as that. There is but one other like it in the world." " Then we will find it, mamma t" shout ed Waltor, a few years younger than his sister, "me and Willie. You promise to give twenty-five dollars to any one who will find your lost dahlia-root ?" " Yes," replied the mother, " to you or any one else who will And and bring it to me unhurt." But though tho boys, as well as Emma and the gardoner, and some of the servants searchod all the afternoon, the missing root was not to bo discovered. Bo Mrs. General Harmon, never at any time a very reasonablo woman, mourned over her loss, and partly soothed her ag grieved feelings by dismissing the old Scotch gardener, Duncan, and taking in his place one younger and more active, though by no means as skilful as bis pred ecessor. And Duncan smarting under a sense of injustice, went forward and offered his services to Mrs. Rivers, who had long been desirous of possessing them. Thus Mrs. Harmon " spited nobody but herself," as is generally the case when people act hastily in a passion. Now Duncan's successor at Fairview was a young man named William Watson, who had long been in love with the pretty daughter of tho widow Luttrol, who occu pied that poor little cottage at the far end of the village street, and eked out a scanty pittance by taking in washing, or any such job that offered, whilst Rose went out sewing when she could And tho work to do. Watson had long been anxious to supplant Duncan, and it was, in fact, partly owing to his artful representations that he at length succeeded ; and his hope was now, that in view of tho comfortable salary and the pretty gardener's cottage at Fairview, Rose might be induced to marry him. Great therefore was his chagrin, as well as resentment, when lie found his offer of marriage for a second time rejected by the daughter of tho widow ; and his ill feeling was increased on learning that Rose had all along preferred his own cousin, Robert Ward ; and that the two wore to be married as soon as Ward could afford to purchase or build a small cottage. But then, the young man was, like his affianc ed, very poor, doing a small trado in the village as blacksmith's assistant ; and it would probably be a long time that he aud Rose would have to wait for their cottage, Meantime, thought Watson, who was vin- dictive, something might be done to break off the match ; and he never wished this so ardently as when he saw the young couple, bright and happy looking, despite their poverty, saunter slowly past his own door on Sunday evenings on their way to and from church, and fancied in their smiling looks that they were triumphing over him So the spring passed and tne summer came blossoming into the gorgeous luxur iousness of July and August. Un the first of September was to be the great hortieul tural fair at Lexington, the county town, about twelve miles distant from our littlo village. Mrs. Senator Rivers wanted somo dresses made for the little girls for this particular occasion, and, as was frequently the case, applied for Rose LuUrel's services. So one morning, about a week before the first of September, the young girl set out for a a thrce-milo walk to Mount Joy, whose turreted roofs and many chimneys, rising above a magnificent grove of old trees, she could see quite plainly from her own little cottage. She was to pass the day at Mount Joy, and in the evening return, bringing the work with her for completion at homo. Rose was used to walking, and two or three miles along the pretty picturesque valley road was very little to her. Never theless she accepted from farmer Brown, by whom she was presently ovcitaken, the oiler of a ride in his wagon. Little less than two miles from the vil lage they came to what was called the Five Corners, a point where no less than ', that number of roads met. There was a nice country tavern here, together with a store and a smithy. As they passed the latter they saw the smith come out, aud with black aud brawny hands mill up a board In front of his door, on which was written, This property for salo, cheap 1" " Hello 1" said farmer Brown, drawing up, " Solan' out uey V" " Wouldn't put up this'ere if I wan'n't," answered tho smith who was a gruff fellow. " Wal, now I and your doin' the best blacksmith business in the hull country !" said the old man in a tone of disappoint ment. "Mebbel can do abettor still," an swered he, coolly. " You don't say ? Whereabouts, now ?" " In California. Dick's makin' lost o' money over thar, and he's writ to me to come out the first minute I can, and jine him in a business he's about to undertake." " To be sure 1 and you'll go Boon's the place is sold ?" "Yes ; tho lot, and the smithy, and the house over thar," nodding his head toward a nice littlo white cottage with its portico embowered in multiflora roses, which stood a littlo apart from tho shop. "Going to let it off cheap, as in this case time's of more value to me than money. Five hun dred the wholo lot !" " Wal, now, that is ft low figure !" " Must bo paid, though, before the first of September, as I'm bound to be off by that time. Wouldn't let it go off so easy if I warn't pressed for time, and obliged to give such short notice." Tho smith finished nailing on tho board as he spoko, and returned to his shop, whilst farmer Brown drove on. I say, Rosey, that'd be a first-rate chanco for Bob Ward," said tho old man, turning to her with a look of interest. " Better speak to him about it, my girl. IIo's a fine steady fellow, and you both de serve to do well." I don't think he has the money," said tho girl, blushing, but with a wistful look back at the smithy and the cottago, with its garden, its field, ond "cOw-lot." " Wal," said the farmer, thoughtfullp, I might possibly help him along a little. He's sure to succeed at the Five Corners, the best place for a smithy in the country round, and though I ain't much to spare, I wouldn't see him at a loss for want of a few dollars or so." All that day Rose Luttrol's thoughts were running loss upon her work than on tho pretty cottage at the Five Corners; and when Robert Ward came in, late in the evening for the usual half-hour's talk with her, Bhe told him of it. "I can't do it, Rose," he said, regret fully. " I've but 300 in the, world, and you know bow much there is to do with that. And yet it's such a capital place for busi ness !" " And such a pretty cottage already built, you know." "I wish I could afford to get it," he said, looking at the bright, eager face be fore him. "Couldn't you try, Robert? Farmer Brown will help you, you know." Robert came in next evening, looking rather excited. Farmer Brown bad prom ised to loan him $100, " all the ready mon ey he could scrape together." This, with his own, would mako $400. "Only $100 morel" exclaimed Rose, joyously clasping hor hands. " But there is the difficulty, Rose. Only $1 wanting would spoil the whole, and how on earth am I to get this $100 ? I did try two or three people, whom I thought best able or willing to make the loan ; but they either haven't the money, or don't want to part with it." "There is your cousin, William," said Rose, hesitatingly. "IIo has plenty." " I spoke to him, first," said Robert, with a shadow coming into his clear blue eyes " offering interest on tho loan : but ho hadn't the money, he said. I think, Rose, he hasn't any over-good will toward mo now, dear."' She understood him. "Lot him have good or ill will," she said, with a little defiant toss of her head " It doesn't matter. We can do without him. But it was with rather a sad heart that Rose, on the last day of August, sot out to Mouut Joy, carryiug home the comple ted dresses that would be wanted next day at the great fair at Lexington. She walk ed the whole way this time, as far as the Five Corners, and there stopped to rost in the shade of the fruit trees iu front of the smith's cottaco. The notice was still con spicuously nailed iu the front of the shop. " You haven't yet bad an offer for your place, Mr. Simpson?" she asked of the smith, who passed her, appearing very busy. " Plenty offers money aiu't paid down, though. Except young Watsou'U take it. Just left a littlo while ago, and promised to got the money out o' bank to-morrow at Lexington. Don't intend to take down notice till bargain's made and money paid cash. First that puts the money in my hand's to have it." Rose walked on. Her feeling of indiffer ence toward William Watson was changed into one of indignation. What could he want of tho smithy, who was a gardener, and had a cottage of his own ? No doubt the proposed purchase was to spite her aud Robert, and, as the thought occurred, she perceived the object of her indignation approaching on horseback round a turn of tho road. She did not dosire to meet him. Not only was she angry with him, but he was not, as she well knew, the sort of young man with whom a girl would bo willing to be caught walking alone on a secluded road ; and Roso, seeing that she had not been perceived turned hastily into the bushes, crossed a low fence, and struck straight through the wood in the direction of Mount Joy. There was no pathway through this unfrequented wood, and whou Rose had walked some distance, she lost the "bearings," as sailors say, and bad wandered out of hor direct course. She paused on a slightly elevated and open space, and looked around. The first ob ject that arrested her attention was some thing red gorgeously red aud vivid gleaming out from a neighboring thicket like a blazing jowcl. It must be a flower, of course though not even tho superb cardinal flower had ever seemed to the girl's eyes half so splondid in its gorgeous hue. And when she reached it, she stood in almost rapturous surprise and delight at recognizing in this jewel of the woodland a dahlia aud such a dahlia 1 There were several buds already nearly opened, though but one in full blossom a blossom just opened and perfectly devel oped. " I will got Robort to remove It to our garden," said Roso to herself ; "and this lovely blossom I will take to Mrs. Rivers. She is so fond of flowers. I wonder how it came here, away in the woods, and there is part of a basket, half buried in tho earth near it. Yes, it is actually growing out of an old wicker basket." As sho passed tho Mount Joy garden, Duncan was throwing over the palings a handful of rootod-up weeds. His eye was instantly caught by tho glow of tho flower which Rose carried in her hand, its stem wrapped in some wet moss to keep it fresh, And when she showed the blossom, and told him how she had found it, the old man's shrewd, , grey eyes kindled. He knew all in an instant. It was Mrs Harmon's lost dahlia. " I'll gie you a gudo price for the plant, Miss Rose," he replied, persuasively. " What price ?" asked Roso, wonder ingly; for it had not occurred to her that any one would wish to buy tho flower. " Aweol," said the old man, reflectively, as he scratched his head "say $1." Duncan was a Scotchman, shrewd and economical, yet he folt half ashamed to im pose on tho girl with such an offer for this rare and splendid plant. And seeing that she hesitated, he fancied sho know some thing of its value. " You think its worth mair, mayhaps?" he suggested. "Oh, no," said Roso, with a half-absent Bmile: " I was only wishing it was worth $100." " Eh. eudo cuide us I 1100 for a woe flower 1" So Roso. in defending herself from the charge of such unheard-of mercenariouness unconsciously told her story. Duncan had a good heart "au fond" as the French say and his sympathies wero arousod for the lovers, whilst at the samo time, his in dignation rose against his succcsor at Fair view Watson. ."I'll tellyewha' tin, Miss Rose," he broke in at the ond of her story- Gin ye'll gie me that flower, and hail plant root, bud an a', I'll nae see ye put out for want o' tlOO. I hao that, an' mair. 1' the same bank wi' that donnie chiof yonder, and I'll be before handed wi' him, or my name's nae Duncan ?" So tho bargain was agreed to on the spot; and the old Scotchman, with spade and basket, accompanied Roso back to the place where grew the dahlia, and carefully, as though ho wore digging up a buried treasure, roruovod tho plant with the earth undisturbed about its roots. "Hech, sirs !" said ho, with a chucklo, "but it's the leddy o' Mount Joy wull win the prize this time; an I'd gie anither bin dred dollars a'maist to see how Madame Harmon wull open her big black eyne when they fa' on this at the fair to-morrow. Do'il kens how it kem here, then !" The way in which the root had really come there was afterwards remembered by Mrs. Harmon herself. She had placed it, with the dried moss in which it had been enveloped, not on the sliolf, as she had supposed, but in a little wicker basket on that shelf, and this basket the children had the same evening appropriated for gathering gentian roots in the woods, and thus lost, with the precious dahlia roots still within it. When, late the following day, William Watson, returning from the fair, presented himself and his $500 at the Five Corners smithy, he was told that the place had been sold some hours previous to Robert Ward.' And every time he is under the necessity of passing that way, he beholds Robert busily at work in his shop, with plenty of customers around ; whilst Rose, prettier than ever in her youthful matronly bloom is equally as busy attending to her garden, setting roots and tying up bunches, with frequently old Duncan to criticise, instruct and assist. Tho old man's loau has been paid long ago, and he and the Wards are great friends. He still shows his splendid dahlia at nil the flower fairs, and relates, with a chucklo, how ho gained possession of it; and if any one questions the strict honorableness of the proceeding, he puts down the objective with " Hoch, sirs 1 but it was a' providential, an' I'm nae ane to fly i' the face o' Providence." A XEUIIO WEDDING. ' IN tho Lakeside for January, Egbert Pholps doscrlbes "A Southern Christ mas in the Olden Time," when plantation life and old-fashioned Southern hospitality had tho luxuriant aspect on the outside that tho war and emancipation havo obliterated. Tho writer saw ono of those comical negro weddings which have been so often described. The bride and groom, answering to tho names Andrew and Susie, were field hands of unmistakably puro Guinea blood, and both of thorn had passed the first half century of life. Their dress, howevor, showed that they had not yet en tirely eschewed the follies of thoir youth, for, though rudo and cheap, as beoamo their condition, it was nevertheless not uu embclllshed with those bits of gewgaw and glaring finery of bright-colored ribbon and tie in which the negro delights. With tho most decorus gravity the preacher began: . " Andrew, duz you lub dis yore wo man?" " I dux so 1" was the emphatic roply. " Will you promise to stick close to her from time an' 'tarnity, renouucin'all oddors an'clcabin' ou'y to her forcber an' amen !" II T til J.t I,, X Will UUb i " Will you lub, honor an' 'bey" " Hold on, dar, Ole Jack !" herointw ruptud the groom, with no little show of indignation " Taint no use talkln' to dis nigger 'boyin' do wimmin. Can't prom ise to 'bey no wimmin folks, on'y 'copt ole missisl " "Silence dar! you owdumptlous nig ger," roared tho wrathful preacher ; "what fur you go fur spile de ceremony ? You done spilt all do grabbity oh de 'caslon ! Dis yore's on'y matter ob form an' in' sponsable to de 'oitsion, now don't you go fur to open yonr black mouf till do time for you to speak I" " Will you promiso to lub, honor an' 'bey" Andrew still shaking his head ominously at the obnoxious word "dis yere nigger Susie, furnishin' hor wid all . things needful for her comfort on happi ness, cherishin' an' makin', smoove de path ob all her precedin' days to come "Is'pose I must say yes to dat," said Andrew, meekly, " Don I pronounce deso yore two coup les to bo man and wife ! nil whom do Lord hab joined togodder let no man go fur to put dem assuuder !" Here an uproar arose among the blacks, betokening a dilemma entirely unforseeu by Old Jack. For inasmuch as ho had forgotten to require tho usual vows of Susy they insisted that, howevor firmly Andrew might bo bound by the bonds of matrimo ny. Susie was still single, and tho pair were but half married. Tho matter was at last adjusted by the preacher commencing the ceromony denovo, by which means the couple were finally united to the satisfaction of all. tW Sickly poople, it is said, live long er single than they would if married, aud healthy people live longer In pairs.