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__ , HERE SHALL THE PRESS THE PEOPLE'S RIGHTS MAINTAIN, UNA WED BY INFLUENCE GAIN. CHARLES E. PAINTER, Editor. STEPHENS CITY, FREDERICK SEPTEMBER 17,1881. VOI^^NO.^. J mtmsmtm —» - ■ I .__.. ~ ■ „ . . . . „. . « ~ , I I : uu,«i » on uuaji ii. Tito gnds of old, when man was made, Ono day reclining 'noath the simile Of high Olympus, formed apian To niiike a complement for man. For man in hia primeval Btato I Was not Hie being wise anil great And good anil true that now is seen, i But was at first a moro machine. ( And so the gpds, with toil and pain, Debated nmeh, and long in vain, I What they should form with the intent To be for man Hill complement. A way at last they did discorn, ud mado the pasHions, ciudi in turn. Among the which are rockoned great liemorse and friendship, love and hale. Anil every god in turn essayed The strength of what their skill had made, Decreeing that should be the strongest That 'gainst their own strength held out ■ longest. The leaser ones with ease they threw, And so with hate and friendship too; But when they came to love at last, I He stuck so firm and held so fast i That, though the gods all tugged and atrained, ' His steady hold he still retained : Yea, though the gods wero hot and blown, Yet love was neither moved nor thrown. j And so, as none his strength eonld move, rhey gave the palm, perforce, t«> love, And yielded to his tender thrall, Anil love was strongest of them nil. — Waverly Magazine. ) TEN EYCK'S FRIEND. Ten Eyck had fallen asleep on Ho- i barts lounge. As there was a screen before the lounge, Ten Eyck was, of course, invisible to any one elee who , might enter the studio. The place was empty when he had come in. but what ever belonged to Grant Hobart was share and property (so declared) of ' Warren Ten Eyck, and therefore, the ' latter, having free entree and his own key, felt at perfect liberty to sleep, read, lounge, or amuso himself by any avail- ' able means, either in Hobart's presence ' or absence. So he had chosen, or, without choos- ' ing, had happened to fall asleep on the lounge behind the screen. It was nearly sunset when he awaken ed, roused by a sudden soft confUHirfu. of sounds—the door closing gently, i footsteps in the room, then Hobart's voice, arid—another! i Was he still asleep and dreaming ? , The voice was the voico of Helen Blame, the woman he was engaged to marry. Ten Eyck half-rose, with a smile on | his face, ready to call out a welcome or , greeting of some kind—for he supposed 1 this visitation to refer solclv to him- ■ self. Ho was not sufficiently awake to re mind himself that Miss Blaiuc had no possible means of knowing he was to be found at Hobart's studio at that par ticular time, especially as ho had left her in the morning with full intent to spend the day with his cousins in Orange. At the first consciousness of her pros- ' once he rote, smiling. Ho had heard l hor voice only; then, instantly after- ' ward, his sense mado room for these words, uttered in soft, purring tones, f half-scolding, half-coaxing: "And all these days that I have not ' seen you, bad, careless boy! What ' have you been doing with yourself, not , even to write to your poor girl ?" "My love and my angel!" said Ho- ' bart, softly. Ho seemed to think it ! necessary to say no more. Ten Eyck sat gasping, while long kisses were exchanged. It seemed as if the world wero crashing asunder and ' failing his feot, but he kept firm hold of himself amid the terrible conflict of ' feeling and passion which had so sud- ! denly assailed him. He did what perhaps the niceties of honor might condemn, but what ninety- ' nine honorable men out of a hundred f would have done-—constrained himself to resume again the attitudo of sleep, ( and listen with every fibre of his being, ( mental and physical. And this is what ) he heard between those long pauses , lovers delight in : , "How fortunate we should meet! You will put your bonnet off. You will 1 stay a little while. Oh, but you' must ! ( No one will come in now. I would i have tried to see you this evening in any case. I knew Ten Eyck would be 1 away." ( "I would rather be here than any- ( where iii the world, dear- you may 1 know that; but it will be dinner-time i directly. Oh, don't tease about my bonnet! If you could see how my hair i is all screwed and twisted up, you would ] beg me to keep my bonnot on. Do you i love me ? Do you expect to be for- i given ? Nearly a week since I saw you. j It is a week to-day, Grant." I "I have been so hurried and so wor- ] ried. lam dead tired, dearest. Say t something sweet to your poor boy. I Don't scold and frown, now that 1 have i you to myself for five precious minutes. I expect yon to pity, forgive and love me. I deserve it all. "Poor, dear darling! There, and there, and thero ! I would kiss away all your worries and your troubles if I could. Dear old pot, what has happened to vox and tiro him so?" "I did not see my heart's delight for a whole week. Is not that sufficient? And now she scolds me." " Because she adoros you too much I But would you have come to me to night in any case?" "Through flood and fire I" " Then you will come ? It is opera night ; motker and the girls are going, but I can have a headache and stay at homo for you. Oh, Grant, Fate is kind, after all!" "Kind—well, she gives us a crumb of comfort now and then. It is better than nothing, I suppose. But when you are married " " I shall always love you," says the soft, thrilling voice. " I can never feel for Warroc as Ido for you. Oh, yes, I know he is good and lovely, but what is the use ? I like him aud respect him ; ho will bo a splendid husband, but I never mean to give you up as long, dear, as you love me." "You make me so happy—happy!" murmured Hobart, while Ten Eyck, lying white and still, clinched his fists and set his teeth. This was the man whom he had called friend, and this was the woman who had seemed an angel of truth and innocence, whose air of virginal purity had almost chilled the ardor of his love at times and awed it into calmness. These two, his dearest upon earth, had taken from him all that made life dear. He felt an almost irresistable impulse to rush upon Hobart and choke back into his throat those lingering, happy whispers of contented love. Toward Helen he felt a sort of trem bling horror, as if her freshness and beauty had been suddenly changed by -loatli«o»«»~«H«*«i«!. - Aadt-JiWu7 the t#r- : rible surprise of it all served to render him powerless. He could not shape his thoughts or intentions to any definite end. Tho moments that seemed like heavy years dragged by and the words of ten der, impassioned parting were softly uttered, and at last Ten Eyck knew that he was again alone. It was only for an instant, however, but in that instant his plans wero made. Hobart came up al most immediately, and began whistling over his poncils and' putting aside his canvases and easels for the night. In the course of his work he stepped be hind tho screen, and discovered Tom Eyck, to all appearances in a sound, nntroubled sleep. He started back with a spring, and then stood rooted to the spot. His heart ceased beating ; cold drops of perspiration stood on his fore head ; he leaned against the wall for support. After a moment, during which he watched the calm face and closed eyelids, and heard the long, reg ular breathing of the quiet sleeper, the color came back slowly, the warmth to his frame, and a smile of thanksgiving rested on his lips. Thank God! was what he said inwardly. He thanked the great Judge above that his perfidy to his friend had not been discovered. "Hallo, my boyl Do you intend to become a second Rip Van Winkle ?" And Ten Eyck rolled off the lounge, passed his hands through his hair, and answered sleepily : '* Confound it all 1 how long have I been here ? I had an appointment at five. By Jove, quarter to Bix! Let's go to dinner." * * * * * * * Warren Ten Eyck, having suffered at one blow the loss of his dearest posses sions, proeoeded quietly to his revenge. He had determined to jilt his fair affi anced, in the most gentlemanly manner of which such an act is capable. For a week or two he visitod hor, and behaved much as usual only with a slightly perceptible languor and indif ference. Gradually his calls became less frequent, and each of shorter dura tion. Ho pleaded press of business, in disposition, accidental obstacles, and continued perfectly kind and courteous; but to Helen and to Helen's friends his defection was plainly evident. The preparations for the marriage still went on. He sent her handsome presents, now and then, in a nonchalant way, as if the engagement had suddenly occurred to him, but all the charming petit soins of love had ceased, and Helen felt blankly and bitterjy that her em pire was at an end. To Grant Hobart she said nothing. She shut her white teeth over the cries of pain, and anger, and humiliation that again and again rose wildly to her lips, and held her head up, facing tho world with what pride she might, and glancing at the future with shnddoring fear. It was'in one of those moods of emotional excite ment, not having seen Ten Eyck for nearly two woeks, that sho sat down and wrote him the following note: " Will you be frank with me, War ren ? I ask nothing more. Have cour age to speak truth to me. Thero has crept into my mind a fear, I feel it al most a certainty now, that I have lost your love. My heart breaks to write the words, for, more thau ever, more llian over, I adore yon. What will becon'o of me if we must bo 2>arted ? lam not demonstrative. It is hard for mo to ex press the depths of feeling in words; but you must know that with my undivided heart I love you —you, and you alone! Sometimes I feel convinced that you would bo glad to bo freo of the bond that holds you ? Oh, forgive me if I wrong you—you, so noble, so honor able—it is not possible you could ever forsake the poor girl whose only treas ure is yuur love. Ask your own heart, Warren, and tell me, once for all, the truth. "Your own faithful Helen." With this note in his waistcoat pocket, but with no definite intention in partic ular, Ten Eyck lounged into his friend's studio, late at night, and found Hobart smoking by the open window. Broadway was almost quiet at this hour, and the star-lighted sky above was very quiet, indeed, with the peace not known to mortal life. On Ten Eyck, Hobart's personal charm was potent as ever. The habit of friend ship is wonderfully strong in some natures. These two had been comrades since boyhood, had played, studied, traveled, planned, executed, enjoyed and suffered together, and, to his sur prise, Ten Eyck discovered that the fact of Hobart's treachery had not uprooted his old clinging affection for the man. After the first fierce uprising of in dignation came a deep and settled sor row. Ho knew the time of his associa tion with Hobart must now be short, but meanwhile their intercourse should . lie the same as over, Ho could not do without the support of this nature that had been so long tho counterpart of his own. As he entered the studio and saw Hobart sitting alone and thoughtful, thero was a positive stirring of tender ness in his heart toward the man who had wronged him. "Hello!" was the comprehensive greeting oxchangod, as Ten Eyck dragged a chair forward and lit his cigar, throwing his hat behind him on the floor. "I was wondering if I should find you in or awako. What cigars are these ? Not the same old Irvings, are they?" . • "Tho very same. I think they im prove on acquaintance. Odd you should come hi at this moment, Warren. I was just sitting hero, remembering the day at Milford, when you fished me out of Skinner's Pond. I was going over tho whole thing. You hung your life on a thread for me that day, my boy." "I think my mode of rescue was rather peculiar. I know I dragged half your clothes off in the struggle. I made havoc of your wardrobe, whatever else I did." . "You clutched me baok from death. I shidl never forgot the moment your arm came around me. Warren, from my heart I wish you had let me go un der—l wish to God you had !" "Well, why, in hoaven's name? But, of oourse, you don't mean what you say!" "Yes, I mean it, indeed. See here, Warren, there is something that has got to be spoken between us. Beforo you came in I had made up my mind that it must be spokon, and then you appeared as if in answer to my very thought. Warren, you have always trusted me. You have givon mo your confidence full and free. You have re lied perfectly on my truth and friend ship. Is it not so ?" "Needyou ask that question, Graut?" "Well—your confidence was mis placed. I Uave deceived and betrayed you. lam unworthy of the trust yon have bestowed. lam a scoundrel, War ren." "You have betrayed me?" repeated Ten Eyck, quietly. "In what manner ? How was it possible you should betray me?" "You must not ask me that! I tell you that I am not worthy of your friend ship, that I am disloyal—Good God! when you come here and hold out your hand to me, and look at me with your honest eyes, I feel that my place is in the dust before you. I can't bear it. Warren, you have never known what it is to be tried and conquered by temp tation. It all came upon me suddenly. Until six months ago, my life was hon est and open to you day and night. Then something happened, and almost before I knew my own danger I had 1 forfeited my own self-respect, my honor i —the dear right to call myself your t friend. If I could tell you all—if I had I had courago at the beginning to speak ] truth to you perhaps you could have for- ( givon me. But tho rights of another wero involved. I can't even explain or 1 ask your forgiveness " "Suppose there is no need to ask it ? f Suppose I forgive you and lot you keep \ your mystery all tho same ? Look hbre, i Grant, you aro not very disloyal when < you make confession of your disloyalty!" i Ho held out his hand suddenly, with a 1 Bort of eager smile ou his face. "If f you wore not still my friend at heart, ) would you care to ma ke this confession ( or grieve because it needed to be mado ? ' Take my hand, old fellow. Grant, I ( am more glad than if some one had givon me half a million of dollars that i you have made this confession. I don't i want it in plainer words. Whatever the 1 sin is I forgive you. No need to feol i cut up, my boy. Shake hands, and let c it be forgotten." t "1 can't,' said Hobart, huskily, turn- t ing his head away to hide tho tears that t had rushed to his eyes. "If you could know-but your kind- > ness - your generosity—Warren, you cut i me to the heart!" i For a long minute there was silence. 1 At length, turning impetuously, Hobart spoke: t "I can never take your hand again, f the hand from which I have received t only help and kindness, unless I am truo to you, Warren. This is the con fession I must make to you- -that I love * Helen Blame. 1 have spoken words of lovo to her. I have tried to take ' your place in her heart knowing that you loved her and were, soon to make ' her your wife. Now, do you think I ought to take your hand in mine?" For all answer Ten Eyck stretched his hand out and grasped Hobart's heartily. That clasp, and the silence that followed, were eloquent indeed. "Confession for confession," ho said, quietly, and commenced again to pufl his cigar, which had suffered neglect ' for some moments. "I will say to you what I would say to any one else, that ' lam trying, as gradually as possible, to ' break my engagement with Helon. It ! is daily more apparent to me that we ' are not suited, and 1 am hoping that ' she will be shrewd enough to dismiss mo—in time." ' "Ymt are trying to break tbe engage- .' mcntV" Hobart asked, slowly in an ac- I cent of deep snrprise. f Ten Eyck nodded. "It will not bo ' so easy a matter, I am afraid. I have ' just received a letter from her that has discouraged mo considerably. Perhaps, under the circumstances, I am excusa ble in showing it to yon !" Hobart received and read the note, his faoe changing to the very pallor of death. His hand trembled until the paper rustled like a leaf in the wind. As he ended, it fell slowly to tho floor, and he sat looking at his friend in a terrible silence. "I am justly punished," he said, in a | low voice, at last; ' 'she has deceived me, too." He drew a scrap of paper j from his breast. This came to me two hours ago. Bead it, Warren. We shall , learn by-and-by what women are !" And Ten Eyck read : ] "I waited for my boy a blessed hour | today. What detained yon, dearest? The jiark was lovely. And I wore the littlo blue bonnet you admire, and sat in ' my shady corner and loved and waited, ' and no one came. Will expect you to morrow, same time and place. Have ( not had a word from T. E., and it is moro than a week since wo met. I was earnest when I told you I would try to break the engagement. I think he is i beginning now to understand my inten- | tion and is too proud to oppose it! God grant! With it thousand happy hopes and thrice as many kisses, all my thoughts and all my heart, I am your ' own little girl, your Helen." The note was written on tho delicate, ' perfumed paper with which Ten Eyck * had always kept his affianced supplied. * He smiled a littlo us ho picked the other letter from the floor and com- ■ pared them. * There was none of the amazement or * indignation apparent that Hobart had expected this revelation would arouse. ' Ten Eyck merely said : ' "We shall never know women—nei- J ther yon nor I, neither Gods nor an- 1 gels I" And then he continued calmly: ' The fact is, my surprise oanie long ago. f I knew of this affair between you and ' Helen two months past. You remem- I ber that day you came in and found me ( asleep on the lomnge? I had not been aslaep, Grant—in fact my eyes were opened pretty widely !" I "Warren! Warren!" i "Oh, well, don't mind it so much, my boy ! I don't mind it now. I can un derstand how such a temptation might overcome a man. Anyway it has not ' separated its. We have each other, and ' Helen may have—any one sho can got!" "God is my witness, it began with ' her!" said Grant, low and solemnly. ' "She sought me hero. I tried to be firm and loyal, but a moment came when her arms were round me, and everything was swept away in a whirl wind of passion. I asked her then at ' once to break with you and share my life, such as it was ; but her honor, she said, bound her to be true to you. Her honor— oh, her honor ! Yet I have not . the right to blame hor, God knows ! ! Warren, how is it possible you can for give me this?" "Oome with mo to South America," was the quiet answer. "I have made my plans. This day week we can sail. I intend to leave Helen a few thousand dollars to take ber abroad, and she will soon make a brilliant match. I don't think we need, either of us, keep her ' on our conscience to any great ex- l tent." I "Oh, God, I loved her!" said Hobart ' with a groan. " I would have staked ' my life on her love for me. It is hor- 1 riblo ! It is worse than death to know her—what she is !" "You'll get over that, dear fellow," said Ten Eyck, kindly, patting his friend's broad shoulder. "I felt terribly,, too, just at first. • •«.«■. d I There was a great buzz and stir of gossip in Society's little world when t tho engagement between Helen Blame and Ten Eyck was declared "off." ' Ten Eyck very kindly allowed tho sin of jilting to lie at Helen's door, and ( Helen bore her share of blame in ex emplary penitonce and humility. To her ' intimate friends she said, with a vir- ' tuous air of resignation : "Why should people find fault with |me for saving Warren, and myself, too, from a life of misery? It required some courage, but we were so entirely un suitod—so utterly at variance." Her tone left her hearer to infer that the uusuitability and varianco were all ' on Warren's side, and that her mag nanimity alone prevented her making f known to tho world his faults and ' vices. But Ten Eyck, scaling the Andes and shouting his enthusiasm to Hobart, with ' yells aud gesticulations that astonished ' their sober-minded guide, had little ' thought and less care of the reputation ' he had left behind. In truth his head ' and hands wero full of care for his friend. 1 By a strange irony of Fate, it was he ' who ministered to Hobart, who cheered I and encouraged him, and watched over, I with a woman's tenderness, the man ' who had so deeply wronged his confi- ] dence, but whom he had loved with i more than a brother's love. | FASHION SPIUYS. Khadzimir silk is largely imported for i fall wear. Tho reps of this new silk are rather flat, in appearance. Satin surahs, with a glace surface, produce many lovely color transitions. Plushes and velvets, plain and em bossed, are used for trimmings of satin Surah, and for wool stuffs. Shoes with lattice-work straps all over the instep are worn with stockings matching the costume in color. While bead bassementeries are on tho wane as fashionable trimmings, black jet is more worn than ever. Black and white is a favorite combi nation for fall and it will probably ex tend into tho winter costumes. A slashed or open sleeve worn with mourning dress is this season supposed to iudicato that the wearer is a matron. It is the custom at tho moment to decorate wodding cakes with a profu sion of white flowers, natural or arti ficial, i Fraises composed of from threo to five rows of pleated laco are frequently i seen enclosing the throats of the most | fashionable women. Autumn millinery shows the summer t modes greatly amplified. This enlarge ment of styles is carried out very gener ally. There are some petite fashions in headgear, but not to such an oxagger- • atcd extent as presented in tho opposite 1 sizes. The poke bonnets have high j tapering crowns. The importations I give felt for autumn wear, and for win- I ter there are plush and beaver chapeaux. 1 The most common measure of capaci i ty among tho Komans was the Amphora I nearly nine English gallons. ITEMS OF INTEREST. Tho term pin-money is derived from an ancient tax in France to supply the queen with pins. Huts, instead of tents, were used by the ancient English soldiers, as the modes of warfare consisted chiefly in sieges and standing camps. Dr. BUS'S says whisky has prolonged the life of the President. All right, Doctor, cure tho President and the public will not find fault with tho rem edies used. Bombards were large alo barrels, and tho vossels used to carry beer to soldiers on duty, from whence came bombard mau, for ono who carried about provis ions, corrupted by the sailors into bum. boat. During a storm in Vormont, in 1870, the lightning struck a horse in pasture, burning off his hair, or pulling it out, cutting a hole two inches long in his head and throwing off his shoes. The horse recovered. When Lieutenant Flipper embezzles $5,000, everybody says, "the colored cadet!" When Captain Howgate steals $100,000 nobody remembers that he is a white man, or charges him with his race. Colored men should have a pro portional share in the public service, so far as they evince fitness therefor. Both Sides of the Bridge. "Say, mister, are we on this side of the bridge or the other ?" asked a placid old lady of a gentleman on a Court street car, yesterday morning. "Wo are on this side," responded the gentleman, gravely. "Laws mo! Then we ain't anywhere near Greenwood cemetery yet ?" "Yes, madam, we are within a few squares of it." "Sakes a massy! I thought Green wood was on the other side of the bridge." "No, madam ; it is on this side." "Well, that pesky conductor told me it was the other ude when we started." "It was, madam, on the other side then, but wo have crossed the bridge." are on the other side!" "No, madam, we are on this side of the bridge. We've passed it." "And is Greenwood on the other side?" she asked, starting up in some alarm. "No, it is on this side." "Don't try to fool me with your non senso !" exclaimed the old lady, indig nantly. "Don't try to make metbinkthat Greenwood is on this side of the bridge when I know better, and don't try to make me believe I'm on this side of the bridge when I know I'm on the other! Don't ye do it! You want to be careful how you amuse yourself with me, or I'll fit you out with a new set of ribs !" and tho old lady shook her umbrella in warning as to the source of additional physiological development. "The idea," she continued, turning to the passen gers, "of trying to muddle an old woman that might be his mother ! I'll bridge ye, both sides, in a minute. Conductor, just as soon as I get on this side of the bridge, you let me out, or this will be your tombstone trip to Greenwood!" And the dame straightened back and glared defiance, while her well-meaning informant concluded that it wasn't too warm for him to walk to his destination. An .Esthetic Wire. "Say, I'll tell you something if you won't blow it," was the way one man saluted another. "All right—go ahead." "You won't give it away until I say so?" "Not a word." "Well, my wife has got to be an sbs thetio." "No?" "Sure's you're born. I have suspected that she was working that way for some time past, but it's only within a day or two that I became positive." "Well, that's wonderful. Say, how does she act ?" "Languid—very languid. She lops around, drawls her words, writes sad poetry, and the sight of an old pie-tin or a banged up chronio entrances her. Congratulate me on my luck." "I do—l do. That is—" "What?" "Don't build hopes too fast. Be sure you aro right aud then go ahead. I la bored for a whole yoar under the delusion that my wife was developing as an (es thetic, and when I came to talk to her father ho said she was always more than half-idiot by nature. Go slow—go slow. The difference between an lesthetio and a fool is so mighty small that you oan't afford to make a mistake and be placed in a box."— Fret Press.