Dakota farmers' leader., November 21, 1890, Image 6

About Dakota farmers' leader. (Canton, S.D.) 1890-19??

Image provided by: Minnesota Historical Society; Saint Paul, MN

                
A WINTER SCENE.
BV HOWARD O. TRIPP.
TJpon a mountain's crost I stand
And look upon the world below
The landscape is a silver land
Of wave-like drifts and shining snow.
The tall and slender pines uplift
Their steeples in the purple air
The crimson sun-gems sway and shift
O'er distant mountains dim and fair.
A.
misty- cloud floats o'er the sea
And drops in snow-pearls softly down
Into the vale In front of me,
And hides from sight the little town
That stands below a distant ledge,
Near by tho ocean's sandy beach,
Tliat seems to be tho very edge
Of this fair world—just out of reach.
Tho skies grow bright, the sun appears
An arc of phosphorescent fire
Mine eyes grow dim with unshed tears,
My heart is pulsing with desire
*1 wish that I could rule the sun,
Could stop at once his sudden flight,
.And paint these beauties every one
Before the coming of the night.
Each distant mount is getting dim,
Tho valleys look like shadow-bars
The sun drops o'er the ocean's rim,
And night comes on, the moon and stars
Seem like pale specters of the air
That are by turns both dim and bright,
And this grand scene so richly fair
Has vanished in the mist of night.
Kxkosley, Iowa.
A TERMBLE SECRET
The Curse of the More
lands.
BY LEON LEWIS.
CHAPTER I.
WHY DID SHE REJECT HIM?.
cannot be,
Vance! I love
you—oh, so deep
ly! so tenderly!
and I shall love
you always and
forever, but I can
not marry you! I
would sooner
die!"
What strange
words were these
to pass from -a
beautiful young
girl to her lover,
and with what
wild energy of despair and grief were
they uttered!
And he' to whom she was speaking?
Ah, it was here that was seen how singu
lar was her decision.
Scarcely three-and-twenty, yet old in
thought and study, as grave as genial,
with a face as expressive of kindly feel
ing as of intellectual dignity, and a
iorm that was a model of manly beauty
surely it seemed as if he could have in
•no wise deserved to hear those burning,
withering words which had so unex
.pectcdly fallen upon his hearing.
How astonished, not to say horrified,
•was the look he gave her!
ELS' could hardly .credit the evidence of
his senses, and stood as if petrified,
unable to give order and sequence to the
'troubled ideas and impressions crowding
'•upon him:
Then he advanced and took the girl
fn his arms as tenderly as a fond mother
itakes a weary child to her bosom.
Snrely she must be ill—as she looked.
He could think of no other explanation
of her singular demeanor.
"Oh, never, Vance, never," she con
tinued, shrinking away from the arms
ithat inclosed her so gently and firmly,
£ad even averting her eyes from the lov
ing glances bent upon her, as if she dar
ed not trust herself to meet them. "I
can never marry you. I have been weak
and wicked not to tell you this sooner,
but, oh! I was so happy. I have always
known that there is a barrier between
as. But the end has now come. Sooner
death than marriage. Do not press me
for my reasons. This must be our last
-meeting, Vance—the very last."
How the lover again looked at her, as
she struggled further to escape him.
A vague sort of comprehension began
-dawning upon him.
He recalled the deep gloom in which
'lie had often-found her, and the traces
of tears he had frequently seen on her
cheeks, when he hiad presented himself
unexpectedly to her. He remembered
how she had again and again seemed to
•desire to fly from his presence without
•being able to do so.
"And yet," he cried impetuously—"and
yet you love me, Jessie!"
"Love you!"
«Oh, how her arms inclosed him!
Again and again, as if she could not
-control herself, in the wild agony of that
moment, did she rain kisses upon his
cheeks, eyes and lips, with a tenderness
and fervency which attested how com
pletely she had given her heart to him.
And then, with a startled and almost
«uilty air, she tore herself away -abrupt
ly, and placed herself behind the chair
r«he
had previously occupied, bowing her
ihead upon its high back and sobbing as
iff her heart were broken.
A look of terror appeared in the eyes
•of the lover, as he contemplated the
weeping girl a few moments, and then,
with a sigh of mortal anguish, he dropped
Into, the nearest chair, covering his face
nrith his hands.
What a dismal abyss human life had
•-already become for him!
What a cheat and snare were all the
:Xbnd hopes he had been cherishing.
From his boyhood up to that hour,
Vance Wyeville's lines had been cast into
'pleasant places, and he had hardly
.known a care or a sorrow.
Left an orphan in early infancy, he
Jhad been reared by a childless uncle who
ihad made a great pet of him, and taken
.*11 the pains in the world with his educa
tion.
Naturally gifted and energetic, it had
Iteen easy for Vance to take the first
place in school and college, and to grad
iaate with the highest honors.
His uncle having purchased a large
farm in Lake County, Illinois, a few
•tiles from Wankegan, Vance decided to
commence his practice in this pleasant
and'growing neighborhood, and the re
sult had been all either ancle or nephew
could have desired or expected.
Within three months after, his arrival
An Waukegan, Vance become the most
tpopular physician in the town, one of his
•oldest and most popular confreres having
•died and another having retired from
practice on account of failing health, and
-duly recommended Vance to the largest
clientele with which any doctor of the
vicinity had ever been favored.
At the comparatively early age of
three-and-twenty, therefore, Vance Wyc
ville had found himself in a very pleas
ant and profitable situation.
He was not only popular with the public
but with his professional brethren.
He had made discoveries and effected
cures which had attracted the attention
of leading medical authorities, who had
spoken of his labors with tho praise they
deserved, not a little to the delight and
satisfaction of the admiring and devoted
uncle.
Perhaps the moving causo.of this suc
cess was the fact that Vance was thor
oughly in love with his profession.
As kind of heart as he was gentle and
polished in demeanor, he thoroughly en
joyed his capacity to put an end to human
suffering, and it is doubtful if tho pa
tients he saved or benefited rejoiced
more heartily at his triumphs than he
did.
Every life he saved or blessed gave a
new cliarm and gladness to his own.
"And yet you love me, Jessie," repeat
ed Vance Wyeville, rousing himself from
his bitter anguish and desolation, and
continuing to contemplate, the sorrowing
girl with infinite yearning and "tender
ness. "You have shown it in a thousand
ways. Your treatment of me for months
past can only mean that my attentions
have been agreeable to you. You have
avowed your love for me as much in
deed and word as in those gentle, timid
glanpes which tell their story! You can
not deny that you return my passion,
Jessie!"
"Nor do I wish to deny it, Vance," de
clared Jessie, as frankly as sadly, raising
her head and looking into the face of her
lover with the double intensity of affec
tion and despair. "Oh! if -it be love to
live only in your presence, then am I in
deed in love with you. If it be love to
regard you as the incarnation of all that
is good and grand in the world, then no
doubt whatevor can be thrown upon the
fervency and depth of my affection.
How truly and sincerely I love you,
Vance Wyeville, no one can ever know.
And I shall love you always and for
ever.
"Then why, darling, oh, why, this
strange refusal to marry me?" demanded
Vance Wyeville, in anguished tones.
"Why is it that you are resolved to ban
ish me forever from you sight, in this
strange manner?" and tears appeared in
the lover's eyes as he again drew the girl
nearer. "You surely owe me an expla
nation. Have I in any way offended
you?"
Jessie Moreland shook her head vigor
ously, still striving to escape from the
arms that held her.
"You do not doubt the sincerity of my
love, darling?"
"No! No!"
"Is your mother opposed to our un
ion?"
"Not in any such sense as your words
imply, dear Vance. She only fears that
our marriage would be an unhappy one.
That's all."
"What a singular misgiving! Have
you any idea what can have inspired her
with such an extraordinary fear?"
The maiden was silent, as if afraid
that a reply would lead to grave compli
cations of a situation which had already
become intensely painful.
"In any case, your mother is not the
cause of your refusal," pursued Vance.
"I must look elsewhere. Have you heard
anything against me?"
"No, Vance.. And if I had, do you
think any one's slanders would have had
the least effect upon me, other than to
inspire me with contempt'for the slan
derer?"
"Is it because I am unknown, as almost
every young doctor is bound to be at the
beginning, of his career?" pursued the
lover, earnestly.
"Most certainly not.»
"Is it—is it because, I am a doctor?"
The maiden shook her head again.
"What, nobler profession could you
have?" she asked. "Is there anything
better in the whole field of human toil
and study than to minister to our fellow
beings, curing their diseases and reliev
ing their sufferings?"
"Then what, in heaven's name, Jessie,
is the trouble?" demanded the lover, im
petuously. "Why not be frank with me?
If there is really any reason why you
should not accept my hand in marriage,
the very least you can do is to tell me
what it is."
He waited a few moments for the an
swer of the sorrowing girl, and then ex
claimed, earnestly:
"Oh, Jessie! Jessie! I cannot give you
up! You must not ask me to do so! You
wrong yourself as much as you wrong
me by any such thought. Become my
own darling wife, and banish all this un
rest and apprehension forever. You
cannot possibly doubt my love, dear Jes
sie, after all the assurances I have given
you of it!"
"Oh, no, no, Vance!"
"Then why not marry me, darling?"
"I cannot I must not, dear Vance,"
assured Jessie Moreland, writhing anew
in the loving embrace which so persist
ently detained her. "There is a curse
upon me—a curse, which has been hered
itary in our family for many generations,
and of which I am the latest victim! A
terrible curse!" she added, with bated
breath, "which I will never, never per
petuate, and which I am determined
shall end with me! A horrible and with
ering blight and affliction, which the
womon of our race have long been doom
ed to -think about the last thing when
they lie down at night and the first thing
when they awaken in the morning! A
hideous and dire misfortune, which poi
sons every joy of our lives, and makes
us wish with the dawn of eveity new day
that it might mercifully be the last!"
Vance Wyeville was startled by the
wild, gloomy impetuosity of the girl's
speech and mien, her eyes and face glow
ing with as keen an anguish as if her
feet had been on living coals of fire!
"No, Vance, I can never marry you,"
she resumed, in a wailing voice, but one
than which nothing could be more stern
and determined. "In this awful hour—
the last we shall ever pass together—I
have candidly avowed that I love you,
but there it all must end. There's a gulf
between us which can never be crossed.
As dearly as we love each other, I must
persist to the end in this 'strange refusal.'
I—I do not dare marry you. A marriage
between us, darling," and her voice be
came low and broken, "is wholly out of
the question. I love you too well to
wrong you. I love you to well to wreck
your happiness. To me, the memory of
the last few months will be like the
memory of a lost Eden. To you they
need appear only as a brief, joyous
dream. Go, and forget me."
"I must go,, of course, if you insist up
on It," returned Vance sadly, "but I can
never forget you. Believe me, darling,
these last few months will always be as
sacred to me as to yr Not as a dream,
as you suggest, but as the most glorious
reality with which my life hasf been
blessed."
"So bo it," prayed Jessie. "But for
you there is a future. A future wherein
the arms of a loving, dutiful wife can be
clasped around your neck, and wherein
tho prattle of joyous, beautiful children
will have their place. God grant it."
She was silent a moment, her bosom
rising and falling stormily as if with
thoughts for which sho had no language,
and then she resumed, hurriedly
"I come to my last requests, dear
Vance, of which I have two. The first
is that you will forgive me for allowing
our acquaintance to go so far. I knew
from the first hour of our meeting—oh,
only too well!—-that I had no right to en
courage your attentions, since I was fore
doomed never to marry! But it was so
sweet to be loved! The flutters you
caused my poor heart, were so delicious!
It was such a delight to meet you! You
had so much to say that thrilled me!
You will forgive me for hot breaking off
the acquaintance sooner, dear Vance?"
"Forgive you, darling? I will bless
you to my last breath for having given
me this great happiness!"
"I knew you would be generous,
Vance," and she kissed him "with solemn
tenderness. "My second and last re
quest is that you will order your future
lifo precisely as if you had never met me.
The only thing now wanting to crush
and kill me is to feel that I have blighted
your life. Such is not the case, Vance?"
"No, darling. On the contrary, you
have glorified and ennobled it!"
"Then let it be a grand success, Vance.
I want you* to be honored and happy.
The world is full of sweet, good girls,
and you are one of those worthy and
gifted men who readily attract them. I
shall hope to hear of your marriage in
due course, and then
Tho poor girl had assumed too much.
She broke down, and sobbed piteously.
"Nothing that you can reasonably ask
of me, darling," assured Vance, seizing
her cold, trembling hands, "shall be re
fused. But my heart is no longer mine,
Jessie. I cannot reclaim it. I feel, too,
that there is no adequate reason for this
banishment. I will go away now, but I
must come again and I must know more
about the 'curse' of which you have
spoken."
"No, Vance we must not continue
this acquaintance. We must separate
now and forever. Forgive me for all the
pain I am causing you, but do not seek
to change my decision. Be sure it is
none the less irrevocable because I have
delayed about announcing it. Judge of
my pain by yours, and be merciful.
Farewell, dear Vance. One last kiss."
"But, shall we not meet again, Jessie?"
asked the young physician, caressing her
as tenderly as sadly. "At least once
more?"
"Oh, do not doubt it, darling!" and her
eyes kindled as if the music of the
spheres had already fallen upon her
hearing. "Oh, yes. By-and-by, Vance,
when this mortality shall have put off its
fetters and earthly infirmities, ahd we
shall have exchanged the thorny paths of
this vale of tears for the everlasting
radiance of the starry plains above us,
then we shall meet again, dear,. dear
Vance!"
A moment longer she hung upon his
breast and lips, as if upon the verge of
insensibility, as indeed she was.
And then, with a final swift return of
the wonderful strength lent her by de
spair, she tore herself from the arms of
her lover and burst into the house, with
& mien So agonised, so terribly.indicative
of suffering, that- he did not venture to
detain her or to pursue her.
11
She had fled from love and all that
love had:to offer.
T,r
CHAPTER H, ..
STARTLING VIEW OF THINGS.
O describe the chaos
of thought and feel
ing to which Jessie
left Vance Wyeville
is simply impossi
ble.
His consternation
was such that its
first full effect was
very much in the
nature of a stun
ning blow.
As bewildered as pained, he stood si
lent and motionless a few moments, star
ing at the door which had closed between
him and the object of his affections.
Some vague idea of refusing to accept
his rejection evidently traversed his
mind, for he took a hasty step or two to
wards the entrance.
A burst of sobs from within arrested
this movement, causing him to realize
that an intrusion at that moment was
entirely out of the question.
He must wait in patience for the pres
ent, coming again on tho morrow
Facing about abruptly, he descended
the steps of the veranda where the inter
view had taken place, crossing the lawn
towards the adjacent meadow, with the
air of a man walking at random.
As he did so, he suddenly became con
scious that the shades of evening were
beginning to gather around him.
How thankful he was for the friendly
veil thus thrown over his sorrow.
Darkness and night were just what he
wanted at that moment.
His one necessity was to have time to
think, that he might form some plan of
conjuring the dire calamity which had
destroyed his present happiness and was
menacing his entire future.
In what a dazed sjate he was!
He could not even form. a coherent
theory as to the motive or reason under
lying Jessie's rejection of his suit
He did not doubt the reality of the
"curse" of which she had spoken, or
rather her entire and earnest conviction
of its reality, but he could form no con
ception of its actual nature.
Yet he made the attempt, then and
there, as was natural, asking himself all
sorts of questions, and passing in review
all sorts of conjectures.
To begin with, he knew from the con
fidences of Mrs. Moreland and Jessie, as
casually presented during nearly a year
of friendly relations with them, that the
head of their family, Mr. Walter More
land, had been a good husband and
father, and a man of excellent character
and reputation, whom they had lost when
Jessie was a mere baby.
He had received some hints, too, in the
course of his conversation with the
mother and daughter, of the existence
and character of a man named Badd
Moreland, an unworthy and dissolute
brother-in-law and uncle who was tar
some way troubling their existence.
And finally he had heard both Mrs.
Moreland and Jessie speak repeatedly of
a kindly and generous brother, Col. Bar
ton Ridley, an East Indian merchant
millionaire who had done so mneh to
brighten the lonely lives of his sister and
niece that they could never tire oi talk
ing about him.
There had been nothing secret or mis
leading, therefore, in the dealings of the
mother and daughter with the young
physician upon all these points, and
hence there was not tho least reason to
suppose that the action of Jessie had.
been based upon the existence of any'
disreputable family history, disgrace or
connection.
Even if some misfortune of that sort
had existed, Mrs. Moreland and Jessie
were both too sensible to have any false
shame about it.
By a single swift mental reference to
what ho already knew concerning the
two ladies, thereforo, the young physi
cian was able to decide that the rejection
of his hand was in no wise based upon
anything in their family history or con
nections.
To the contrary, the motives which
had influenced Jessie's conduct had all
been of a strictly personal nature.
In other terms, sho had rejected Vance
because of some attribute, characteris
tic, or circumstance peculiar to herself.
But what was it?
Did she refer to some incurable malady
of the body, or some dreadful
Infirmity of
the mind?
Was her affliction entirely beyond a
wise and loving treatment, or could it be
cured or mitigated by a judicious resort
to the vast resources of modern science?
Was it wholly real or partly imag
inary?
Vance recalled in this connection that
Jessie had never made any complaints,
and had always seemed to be in the best
of health.
Then what could be the "terrible curse"
of which she had spoken?
In any case, it was an inheritance of
Mrs. Moreland as well as her daughter,
inasmuch as the latter had spoken of it
as having existed in her family for many
generations—a fact which was in itself
enough to show that it could be perpetu
ated.
Might it not be in their blood, and
something in the nature of one of those
scrofulous taints which are so coirmon?
In that case, however, why had they
not made every possible effort to get rid
of it, and why had they failed to take
the young physician into their counsels,
after all the great cures he had already
effected?
Was their affliction not more likely to
be some dreadful form epilepsy, which
no art can cure, and which is liable to
strike down its victim at any moment,
with every circumstance of torture, dis
figurement and horror?
But just what could it be?
This was the query that kept present
ing itself constantly to the puzzled young
doctor.
From the mere fact that all his atten
tion waft given to this inquiry, at the
very moment of the rejection of his suit,
it will be seen that he did not take his
dismissal very seriously to heart.
Not for a single instant did he regard
the interview he had just had with Jessie
as a finality.
If the lover had indeed been tempor
arily eclipsed, it had only been to give
way to the physician.
He could only regard Jessie as ill, and
it was no more his intention to remain
away from her than if the painful inter
view he had just had with Jessie had
never taken place.
In good truth,this interview had deep
ened his love for the afflicted girl im
mensely.
Tho fact that she loved him so intense
ly could not have possibly failed to call
forth all the ardor of his own passion.
How tenderly and sorrowfully his en
tire soul went out to her!
How her grief and despair were dupli
cated in his own heart!
How earnestly he wished to get hold of
her secret and banish forever all the
misery it covered!
As he neared the. fence at the end of
the meadow, the end adjoining the1 high
way, he suddenly became conscious that
some one was dogging his steps, and
came to an abrupt halt, facing about
with an air of eager inquiry.
"It's only me, Vance," announced the
pursuer, in a quiet, pleasant tone, con
tinuing to advance.
"Ah, Uncle Erastus!" recognized the
young physician, looking around in a
curious sort of way, as if not quite sure
where hfs feet had carried him while his
thoughts were so busy.
"Is this the first you have seen of me?"
asked the new-comer, -as he came to a
halt in front of the rejected suitor.
Vance assented.
"Then you didn't sec me pull up the
grays at the entrance of the drive?"
"No, uncle."
"Nor walk along the drive to the lawn
after hitching them?"
The young doctor shook his head vig
orously.
"Nor saw me sitting on that horse
block near the house?"
"No, I didn't."
"I was none the less there, my dear
nephew—near enough to see and hear
why you were so oblivious of my pres
ence
"Ah! you saw——"
"That Jessie rejected jtm, as I always
supposed she would," interrupted the
uncle, in a tone that was at once cheer
ful and sympathetic, as he drew the arm
of his nephew within his own, and put
tbe young physician and himself in mo
tion for the highway. "I was too near,
you see, not to become enlightened."
"Bat how came you here, uncle?"
"How? Well, that's a good one!
Didn't you invite me to take tea here
with you, and I told you I would come if we
could get that hay into the- barn in
time?"
"Certainly."
"Well, we had some delay, so that I
was unable to drive into town to your
office and come here with you, but I
fancied it would do just as well if I drove
direct to the house."
"Why, of course, only
"Oh, yes, I understand the matter! I
see there has been a hitch in the pro
ceedings! But here we are!"
He climbed the fence with the agility
of a school-boy, and proceeded to un
hitch a pair of fine gray horses which
awaited him there in front- of a hand
some top buggy.
"Tumble in," he added brusquely.
The couple were soon seated in the
vehicle and jogging quietly in the direc
tion of the city.
"Will you smoke?" suddenly asked the
uncle, prodqpingan elegant cigar case.
The young man assented, with a kind
ling eye.
To light a cigar was the uncle's usual
preliminary to a conversation, and Vance
was anxious to talk.
By the rays thus cast momentarily up
on the face of the uncle, he could have
been seen to be a fine-looking, genial
hearted and kindly eyed man of some
fifty years.
Erastus Wyeville was, in fact, one of
those superior men who are every year
getting more common, and who are
fanners and workers without ceasing to
possess all the instincts and sentiments
of the best class of gentlemen.
[TO BE CONTTNUHkl
CANTON,
o. satrang
Practices in aU the Courti of the State.
Notarial and Collection Business given care
ful attention.
CANTON, SOOTH DAKOTA.
N. C. STUBBERUD,
'Canton, Lincoln county, keeps a full line
of Mens, Womens and childrens shoes
for summer and winter wear,
that sell cheap.
—DEALER IN—
Groceries, Provisions, Crockery, Glassware,
Boots and Shoes,
OWEDFRUITS,
CANNED GOODS,
VEGETABLES,
\-V- TOBACCO,
etc.
O "0 o—o—o—o O
Oetll and. see
OULUP
Main St., Cantorti
J. ANDERSON. P. J. ANDERSON.
Wholesale and Retail Furniture,
Sewing Machines and Organs.
FURNITURE OF ALL KINDS, which we are prepared to fur
nish at prices lower than the lowest.
ANDERSON BROS.,
CANTON, SOUTH DAKQTA.
THE PIONEER JEWELRY STORE. M%.
]pr»ioos| Liv,i
m. D. SlTEKUtt.TOp.
Watches, Clocks, Jewelry and Silverware, Musical Instruments.
Fine watch repairing a specialty. All work
warranted.
Thos. T. Brady,
of Beresford, will make
Special Prices To Farmers,
On a bill of goods. Call and see him.
M. E. RUDOLPH,
Attorney at Law.
SOUTH DAKOTA.
Farmers Trade Specially In
HOTEL 1N9 REST
AUR
A. D. HYMER, Prop.
Board by day. or Week. Meals 25c:
CANTON,
i.
Groceries, Boots and Shoes..
Motto "Square dealing." Come in and look
us over.
B. Schmidt & Co.,
Beresford, South Dakota.
Dealers in all kinds of Heavy and Shelf
Stoves, Tinware Barb wire, Paints, Agricultural Impliments, etc.
Give us a call and we will guarantee you prices.
O. T. HELGERSON.'
Owns this space. He handles a large vari
ety of farm machinery, mowers, reapers,
binders, Aultman & Taylor threshers, hullers
and engins, corn plows, stirrings plows, and!
all kinds of binding twine, oils- and repairs.!
If you call on him for what you want in the
machinery line he will treat you well and
supply your wants according to hoyle.
0. T. HELGERSON.
SOUTH DAKOTA.
C3-. O.
Bray,'
•//.:—Proprietor of— is
THE GATE LIVERY.
Keeps a first elass outfit o( livery rigs of every
description. One ot the best equipped
barns in this state. Sale and
boarding department in
connection.
E. END
Sth
T. L. Torgeson,
Beresford, South Dakota,
—DEALER IN—
ST., CANTON,S. D*
5