The Republican. [volume], January 04, 1873, Image 1

About The Republican. [volume] (Maryville, Tenn.) 187?-187?

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Devoted to Literature, News of the Day, Agriculture, and Important Local Intelligence, Etc.
VOLUME V.
MARYVILLE, TENNESSEE, SATURDAY, JANUARY I, 1S73.
NUMBER 4H.
rm
SIERRAS A PIOS.
HY JOAQriN MILLKK.
Wlilj a buckler and sword into buttle
I moved, I wan m:itrliless ami Htroug ;
I Hto.n in the runh ami the rattle
Of shut, ami the spirit of Bong
Wa upon mi', and youthiul and splendid
My annor Hashed far in the kuu
A I sansi of my lau.l. It in ended.
Ami aU hius been done and uuduue,
1 (lonoend with my dead in the trenches,
To-ni(tlit I lcnd down ou the plain
In the dark, and memory wreuchm
The poul. I turn up to the rain
The cold aud the Wautiful faces
Aye, faces forbidden for years
Turned up to my fare with the trace
Of blood to the white rain of tera.
(Vmnt backward the year on your tinker
While forward riden yonder whits moon,
Till the Boul tnrus aside, and It limrcra
By a grave that wan lxrn of a June
By the prave of the spill where the gram-
Are tangled aa witch-woven hair,
And where fixtprinta are not, Bnd where px-utcn
Nut any thing known anywhere.
By a grave without tooiuliHtone or token.
At a tomb where no fern-leaf or fir.
Boot or branch was once leuded or broken
To beetow there the lxnly of her;
For it lives, and th woul perished only.
And alone In that land, with these IkanUf.
Did I lay the dead foul, aud all lonely
Does it lie. to thin day in the Band.
I ! a wild little maid.ni witli tresses.
Of gold on the wind of the hills ;
Aye, a wise little maiden, that gue.-set.
Some good in the eruelet ills ;
And a babe, with his baby lists doubled
And thrust to my beard aud within.
And he laughs like a fountain half troubled.
When my tngers chuck under his chin.
Should the dead not diyay when the culture
Of flelds be resumed iu the May?
Lo I tie days are dark-winded as the vulture,
Iet them swoop, then, and bear them away.
By the walks let me cherish red flowers,
Hy the wall teach one tendril to run.
Lest 1 wake aud watch all the bourn,
I shall ever see under the sun.
It is well, maybeso, to lie-ar losses.
And to lieiid aud bow down to the r-nl.
If the scarlet red bars and the crosses.
Ik- rounds up the ladder to G-hI.
But this mockiug of men ! All ! that enters
The marrow ; the howling of Hell
In return for my song love that centers,
Va.-t laud, upon thee, is not Well.
And I go, thanking God iu my goin
That an ocean flows stormy aud dfep :
And yet gentler to me is its flowing
Than the storms that forbid me to sleep ;
And I go thanking Ood with hands lifted.
That a laud lies beyond, where the free
And the giant of heat and the gifted
Of soul have a home jn the sea.
DAISY'S SERWEANT.
A tory by lle Late Krel. AV. I.oilui;.
From the Old and Nw.
I3y a special order from the war de
partment, Cant. Bullington, brigadier
general of volunteers, was transferred
from comparative peace ami comfort, in
one of our island cities, to a remote
military station, west of the Rocky
mountains. This military station was
named Camp Jenkins, after the com
mander of a surveying expedition who
established it. It had been established
because there were Indians in its vicini
ty; the instant that it was established
the noble red men faded away like
morning mist, with the exception of a
few who did washing for their oppres
sors. It was a lovely spot; it had cotton-wood
and willow tree standing by
the banks of a rivulet of clear and
sparkling spring water, and the parade
ground was a magnificent lawn of vel
vety grass. Around this parade ground
stood the quarters of the garrison; at
the head, four cottages belonging to the
officers and the surgeon; while the bar
racks and the guard-room completed
three sides of the rectangle, the fourtn
being left open, and showing a wonder
ful picture of purple mountains, barren
and verdnreless for thousands of feet,
while the summits held pine forests, and
fields of dazzling snow that flashed on
the eyes even iu the middle of arid July.
Outside of Camp Jenkins, for miles
around, were deserts of sage-brush; in
side was a natural landscape, that by
contrast seemed a bit of paradise. The
inhabitants of this paradise were, at the
opening of this story, in the Adamite
condition as far as the absence of wo
man was concerned. Mrs. Gen. Bul
lington had flatly refused to accompany
the general when she rirst heard the
news of his transference to the West;
afterward, finding that the general was
placidly preparing to go without her,
she determined to follow. Imagine
then the scene as I have described it at
Camp Jenkins, while (Ten. Bullington is
discovered on the piazza in front of his
cottage, just waked from his afternoon
nap by the arrival of the daily mail. In
his hand is an open letter, signed Ma
tilda Bullingtoti, which informs him
that his wife will arrive a week after her
letter.
" Crestle!" cried the general to his
lifutentant, who was crossing the parade
ground; '"Look here, will you?"
Lieut. Crestle, formerly a lieutenant
colonel of volunteers, not only looked
there, as the general l'equested, but
came there and stood by the side of his
commanding officer, lie was a hand
some, soldierly-looking fellow, dear to
(Jen. Bullington because he was brave,
honorable, a graduate of West Point,
and a Philadelphian.
"Creste," said the general, " my wife
is coming next next."
" So is mine," replied Crestle.
"And the cottage is not in order; and
the carpets are not down," said the
general plaintively. " Here's the doc
tor." " I have good news," said Dr. Gil
bert My wife is coming next week."
" It's a conspiracy!" said (Ten. Bnl
lington. " What do they all come together for?
There will be a row here in two. days."
"That is an ungallant remark," said
Dr. Gilbert.
" I can't help it," said Gen. Bulling-
ton. " Matilda is the best woman in
the world; but when she comes, well,
gentlemen, how do I pass my afternoons
now?"
"You sleep, and vou go fronting,"
said Col. Crestle.
"Well, alter Matilda comes," said
Gen. Bullington, " I shall go fronting
alt igether."
With these oracular words, Gen. Bul
lington cease.l. Men were detailed to
paper and carpet, the officers' cottages;
and a week after the general received
his wife's letter, that lady was deposit
ed at the doorfrom the ambulance which
had been sent to the railroad station, a
trilling distance of sixteen miles, for
her.
At the same time Mrs. Crestle alight
ed. Th general knew who Mrs. Crestle
was, and greeted her cordially.
" Your husband will be here in a few
minutes," he said. " I see you and my
wife have traveled together part of the
way, so that I suppose you are acquaint
ed." " We have Hot yet been introduced,"
said Mrs. Bullington severely.
The general felt vaguely that there
was a natural antagonism between Mrs.
Crestle and his wife, and introduced
them with the air of a martyr.
"I am happy to meet you, Mrs. Cres
tle," said Mrs. Gen. Bullington.
" You are verv kind," returned Mrs.
Crestle. Mrs. Crestle was a small wo
man, and Mrs. Bullington a large one;
but size is not always victorious in fem
ine contests.
' Is your husband stationed here?"
inquired Mrs. Bullington.
"Yes, Mrs. Bullington," replied Mrs.
Crestle. " Colonel Crestle was trans
ferred to this place by the same order
til at sent your husband here."
" Ah!" remarked Mrs. Bullington, in
a slightly surprised tone. "Is your
husband a colonel then ?'
"That is his volunteer rank," replied
Mis. Crestle sweetly, "just as brigadier
general by brevet is Capt. Bullington 's,
you know."
The skirmish had proved successful
for Mrs. Creatle. Mrs. Bullington real
ized it, and wondered whether that
audacious woman, as she inwardly des
ignated Mrs. Crestle, -would ever dare
to address her as "Mrs. Capt. Bulling
ton." As for the general, lie felt that there
had been a battle, though he could not
comprehend how it had been fought.
The arrival of Col. Crestle, who was
affectionately greeted by his wife, sus
pended hostilities for a time, ami the
couples went in to dinner.
Now, what Mrs. Bullington said to
the general at dinner, only she and her
husband know; but, after dinner was
over, the general was seen with his ex
tensive fishing-tackle making his way to
the trout stream.
Two days after this, Mrs. Dr. Gilbert
arrived; and with her came her sister-in-law,
Daisy Gilbert. Daisy Gilbert was
uncommonly pretty. She had curls and
dimples and smiles fluttering around
and across her face. She was lithe and
graceful, though petite. Sho had con
sideradle independence of character.
She seldom asked advice, and still more
seldom took it. She was, in a word, a
spirited little beauty.
By the time of her arrival, there was
a distinctly recognized hostility between
Mrs. Gen. Bullington and Mrs. Crestle.
They still greeted each other politely
enough; but Col. Crestle did not smoke
an after-dinner cigar, as formerly, ou
the piazza of Gen. Bullington's cottage;
and a distinct boundary-line seemed
now to be drawn between the respective
premises of the two gentlemen.
The arrival of Daisy Gilbert produced
a marked effect on the camp. Iu the first
place not only did it inspire the two un
married lieutenants with a wild passion,
but made them drill their men for the
most part directly under her windows,
especially when a right or left wheel
was required. Thereby Daisy's lawn
was injured, and her temper sliglitly
ruffled. But, strong as was Daisy's ef
fect upon the gentlemen, still more
marked and intense was the impression
she produced upon the ladies. Mrs.
(ien. Bullington remarked to Mrs.
Crestle that Daisy was so gentle and
modest. Mrs. Crestle replied in ac
quiescence with Mrs. Bullington, inti
mating that a chief charm of Daisy was
that she never gave herself any airs.
To this Mrs. Bullington retorted that
Miss Gilbert wasn't always "working
and contriving to gain gentlemen's at
tention, Mrs. Crestle," and Mrs. Crestle
responded, that she wasn't so old 'that
she had to exert herself to do so. The
ladies were fast becoming a little
broad and inelegant in their manner of
scratching eacli other, being so far re
moved from civilization. Each looked
on Daisy as an adherent that must be
won by Iter side. But Daisy would not
ally herself to either the Bullington
or the Crestle faction ; though she was
a great pet with the general, and ac- i
cepted numberless little attentions from ;
Col. Crestle. j
Now, one day, when it happened that !
Daisy and Mrs. Crestle were on Mrs.
Bullington's piazza together, a sergeant
came up with a message to the general, i
which he delivered and went away. j
"What a handsome soldier!" said i
Daisy. .
" Is he?" said Yieii. Bullington. j
" My dear," "said Mrs. Bullington, j
" you ought not to notice a common J
soldier." j
" He wasn't a common soldier," said !
Daisy ; " for he had braid on his arm." j
"The principle is the same," said!
Mrs. Bullington.
" But he was handsome," insisted
Daisy; and Mrs. Crestle laughed. But
Mrs. Bullington did not laugh.
She delivered a short lecture upon
the evils which might arise from young
ladies looking at young people of the
opposite sex ; and then, with swift, fem
inine logic, asserted that such evils
were intensified when there was great
social inequality between the looker-on
and the looked -on. Daisy stood there,
very pretty and sliglitly vexed, pulling
a bouquet to pieces, as the cidm stream
of Mrs. Bullington's discourse mean
dered gently on. Again the sergeant
appeared, and stood before them. Dai
sy saw him look at her admiringly, and
colored ; then she observed that his eve
fell upon the flowers she held. Sud-
denly, almost abruptly, she held them
out to him. I
"Do you like flowers?" she asked, j
"If you do you can have them." And j
the sergeant bowed and glanced expres- j
sively at her; his eye was blue but ex- !
pressive: and tlien lie walked away. ,
"My dear," began Mrs. Bullington ;
and then she stopped ; utterance failed j
her. !
"Well," said Mr. Crestle, " has that !
sergeant made a conquest of you, Dai
sy ? First you called him handsome,
then you gave him flowers ; what will
you do next ?"
"O was that the same sergeant ?'' said
the humbug innocently.
"Of course it was," replied Mrs.
Crestle.
"I think you are mistaken, Mrs.
Crestle," said Mrs. Gen. Bullington,
with dignity.
"O, come now," said (ien. Bullington
indignantly, "let us drop the sergeant."
And so the sergeant was dropped.
But some three or four days afterward,
a.s the same people were setting in the
same spot, Col. Crestle said :
" There is going to be a ball to-morrow
night."
"A ball?" said Daisy, suddenly
brightening up.
"Yes," said Col. Crestle, "a ball
over at l'orter Gulch. Shall we go ?"
'(). ves,"said Daisv, "bv all means."
"Why, Ned," sa'id Mrs. Crestle.
"just think what you are proposing !
There will be miners and all soitsof
dreadful creatures there, audits fifteen
miles away from here. Our going is
quite out of the question."
" I think you are mistaken, Mrs. Cres
tle," said Mrs. Bullington. "It is jkjs
sible for us to go, and I for one would
enjoy it. General, we will go and-take
Daisy with us."
" Very well," said the general sub
missively. Now, Mrs. Gen. Bullington did not
w ish to'go to the ball at Porter's Gulch,
and only the controversial spirit inspired
her to do so. But, of course, it was im
possible for her to recede from her po
sition, and so on the appointed evening
she and Daisy.ltogether with Gen. Bul
lington "and Dr. Gilbert, entered the
huge mountain-wagon belonging to the
camp, and started for Porter's Gulch.
Just as they entered that flourishing
settlement, Dn Gilbert was recognized
and carried oft' to attend a sick person
near, so that the Bullingtons aud Daisy
entered the dining-room of the Gulch
house, where the ball was to take place,
alone.
The dining-room was certainly not an
imposing apartment. The ceiling was
low and smoky ; the walls, unlike those
in most of the houses at Porter's Gulch,
were papered, but with paper so hid
eous in its design and color as to make
the spectator regret that the laths and
plaister which had, at all events, the
merit of simplicity, were hidden from i
view. Dancing had already began when
the Bullington party entered. The
room was crowded ; there were three
sets of " plain cotillions," wonderfully
plain, Daisy thought, with a shudder, i
already on the floor ; while forty-three j
young men with large hands and feet, '
who had been unable to secure part-1
ners, sat grimly in the seats w hich were
placed on all four sides of the ball
room. Such a motly assemblage as
that wax. Fat women, gaunt women,
gray-haired women and little girls were
among the dancers, and a grand-mother,
if Daisy had only known it, was execut
ing that interesting and beautiful figure
known as the " ladies chain " with her
grtii al- dan gl iter.
At tine end of the room the orchestra
sat in state, composed of a melodeon, a
violin, a guitar, a cornet and a brass
trumpet. The performers on these va
rious instruments seemed to have va
rious ideas of time and tune, and con
tinually indulged in little departures
from the key in which they were play
ing. The blast of the trumpet was not
sustained, but intermittent ; when it did
occur, however, it was so powerful as to
entirely drown everything else. In
spite of the confusion and noise, the
entrance of the two ladies excited an
amount of attention calculated to de
light both ladies had they been vora
ciously craving of masculine admiration.
The "plain cotillion" soon reached its
end ; and several men thereupon rushed
toward Mrs. Bullington and Daisy.
"The next dance," said one of the
roughest-looking of these, "is a waltz.
May I have the honor, marm ?"
"Sir," said Mrs. Bullington, in min
gled anger ami disdain, "I do not
waltz."
"I'll learn you how, marm," said the
man, with a persistence worthy of a bet
ter object.
" I do not dance with strangers,'' said
Mrs. Bullington. with increased sever
ity. " You'd better, marm," said the man
persuasively. "Woman is scarce here
abouts, and we'd like to have you and
your daughter there trot out a little.
We don't want no folks here that won't
dance."
Iu spite of the presence of Gen. Bul
lington, poor Daisy felt a little fright
ened. She did not want to dance with
a man whoso pistol and bowie-knife
were his most striking features. Just
as she was sitting there, perplexed and
confused, hardly realizing what the va
rious men about her were trying to say,
the tones of a man's voice, which sound
ed fresh, pleasant, and manly, struck
her ear. Now, when the feminine ear
is struck by the tones of a man's voice,
the feminine eye turns to look at the
owner of the voice. The voice said :
"Why, Miss Gilbert, this is a pleas
ant surprise. Don't you remember me,
Harry Curran V"
And Daisy looked, in accordance with
the law we have just enunciated, and
recognized him. Then she gave a little
gasp, and looked at Mrs. Bullington,
and saw that she did not recognize him.
" Mav I renew our acquaintance bv a
waltz, Miss Gilbert ?" said Mr. Harry
Curran; and Daisy said yes ; and they
left Mrs. Bullington, and in an instant
his arm was around her supple waist,
aud off they went, all fire and grace and
beauty, in spite of the melodeon and
trumpet, exciting admiration even in
the stupid louts around them. So well
did Mr. Harry Curran waltz that Daisy
went once and a half around the room
before slit? stopped, and then she said,
" Of course you must explain your con
duct, sergeant."
"I owe it to you, I know," said Mr.
Curran ;" but I wish you could trust
me enough, and believe I am sufficient
ly a gentleman for you to forget my real
position. I came over here without
leave of absence ; and, if I am discov
ered, I am disgraced. I saw that those
men troubled you, and I hoped to help
you out of your difliculty."
"What did you come over here for?"
said Daisy.
" For the same reason that you did,"
said the sergeant; "and vet that was
not my only reason."
"What was it then," said Daisy, im
periously. "Because you came," said the ser
geant boldly : and then he colored.
"You are no sergeant," said Daisy.
"At least, you talk to me as I have
heard other young gentlemen, no, I
don't mean that, but, who are you?"
"Don't ask me please, Miss Gilbert,"
said the sergeant. " My life has been a
ruin and a waste ; my brilliant hopes
and prospects have been worse than
crushed ; aud now I am simply Sergeant
Butler except to-night, when I try to
forget what I am, and return to what I
was. This waltz is over ; may I dance
with you again ?"
"But Mrs. Bullington will detect
you, I am afraid," said Daisy.
Not a bit, said the sergeant gayly.
" Introduce me and see." And strigh't
way Daisy did so.
" Let me see," said Mrs. Bullington
reflectively. " Curran, Curran. Your
fact? seems familiar. Are you any rela
tive of Mrs. Joseph Curraii of Philadel
phia, u charming woman, and a very
dear friend of mine ?"
"Iam her husband's nephew," said
Mr. Harry Curran with a bow.
"Dear me!" said Mrs. Bullinjrton ;
"I thought your face seemed familiar.
General, how much he reminds one of
Joseph Curran."
" Very," said th General.
" You must take good care of Daisy
to-night," said Mrs. Bullington blandly.
"The child is passionately fond of danc
ing, and enjoys the picturesque element
she finds among these people. Only the
other day she quite went into rapture
over such a c mmonplace-looking ser
geant at the campj said he was hand
some ; so ridiculous, fau know."
The child upon tins blushed vividly
and hastily said it was time for the next
dance ; upon which Mr. Curran checked
the How of Mrs. Bullington's conversa
tion by carrying Daisy off.
"Are you really Mr. Joseph' Cumin's
nephew ?" asked 1 aisy.
"Certainly," said Mr. Curran.
Daisv looked carefully at him. He
seemed handsome; but she fancied his
look had a little exultation in it.
"Do you know who the handsome
sergeant at the camp is?" she asked,
and had the pleasure of seeing a shade
of doubt appear in his expression.
"No, I do not," he said. "Has lie a
mustache?"
"O, no," replied Daisy; "a full
beard, and taller and darker than you
are. And I only said he was handsome
to tease Mrs. Bullington."
" Will you do me a favor 'r" asked Mr.
Currau.
"Perhaps," said Daisv. "Whatsis
it?"
" When Mrs. Bullington is ready to
leave, delay her a little," replied Mr.
Harry Curran, "until he can start
ahead of them, and get back to the camp
in time."
Now, at this moment the wrath of
Mrs. (Jen. Bullington was aroused. She
sat and looked upon the throng, but
miugled not with them. Now, beside
the " caller," who stood mounted on a
platform behind the melodeon, and by
the side of the trumpet, was a lxtt 1
and a tumbler ; and in the bottle was
the national beverage, whisky. Agree
ably exhilarated by the national bevt r
age, the natural wit and humor of the
caller of figures began to find vent.
Accordingly he varied his calls from the
dull and stereotyped routine. Instead
of " lady forward, and swing opposite
gentleman, and balance to fourth gen
tleman," lie cried, "lady forward and
swing the handsomest man in the room,
and then balance to the one she loves
best." This filled the bosom of Mrs.
(ien. Bullington with disgust; and,
when Daisy and Mr. Curran returned,
she announced her intention of leaving
this " disgraceful n.-ei.o." But Daisy
teased for just one dance more, and Mr.
Curran seconded her, and so she went
out for the Virginia reel. Mrs. Bulling
ton saw figures of ungainly men and
calico-dressed belles go spinning about,
and grew thoroughly glad that Mrs.
Crestle was not present to exult in her
discomfiture. Verv long indeed the
dance seemed to Iier, and very much
astonished she was when Daisy appeared
alone beside her.
"Why, where is Mr. Curran?" she
asked ; and Daisy explained that he hud
been called awav. Then Mrs. Bulling
ton rose to go ; but Daisy was such a i
longtime getting ready, that she grew
quite impatient, and the general quite
sleepy. And then, when they were all
seated in the ambulance, Daisy found
she had forgotten her fan, and it was
absolutely necessary to go back and get
it. But at last they reached the camp,
and Daisy broke the silence which had
oppressed them with the words,
" Quite safe ! (), T am so glad !"
"Of course we are quite safe, you
foolish child," said Mrs. (ien. Bulling
ton. "You had better go straight to
bed. You have been dancing too much
to-night." And Daisy thought that
perhaps she had, though she did not
say anything, but went slowly, very
slowly, to sleep.
"To-morrow morning," she thought,
"when he conies, a; he probably will,
to the general's cottage with some mes
sage, he will not find me there, and that
will disappoint him. And. when he
does not see nit', lit1 will smile from un
der his mustache ; his mustache is very
becoming ; and I shall look very blank.
How disappointed he will be." And so
Daisy began to dream.
The next day found Daisy very fretful
and discontented. Cause, her plans
had been frustrated. In the first place,
he did not come in the morning ; in the
second place, when he did come, in the
afternoon, he did not smile from under
his mustache, partly because his mus
tache was shaved off, mi I partly because,
having flirted occasionally in his life
before, he was prepared for a feminine
reaction on the part of Daisy, from Un
graciousness of her behavior on the
preceding night.
But the next day Gen. Bullington,
who had made a pet in every way of
Daisy, blindly become an instrument in
the hands of Providence.
"My dear," said he, "I have found a
horse in the camp tliat will just suit
you. Horseback riding will do vou
good."
"O, it will be lively," cried Daisy
joyously ; and then, as an afterthought,
added, "but I can't go alone, general."
"That is true," said the general. " I
have told Sergeant Butler to act as your
escort. He is a good, honest sort of
fellow; very trustworthy; and, while ho
rides behind vou, you can feel finite
safe."
"I should feel safe, I know, general,"
said Daisy demurely; "but would it bo
proper i
Proper! Oh, confound it!" said the
general: " I forgot all about that. I'llj
ask Matilda." j
Matilda, on being asked, and hearing j
casually that Mrs. Crestle had said it
would be improper, immediately ex-
pressed her opinion that Mrs. Crestle j
was a fool. j
" If it were a lieutenant," said Mrs. j
Gen. Bullington, decisively, "objections I
could oe, raised. L,ut what is a ser
geant? The idea is absurd."
So it was settled; and one pleasant
morning in May, Daisy and Sergeant
Butler started together on the moun
tains. The scenery was barren, the
foliage mostly sage-brush; yet Daisy
glanced furtively at the sergeant, who
looked rigidly proper.
He did not speak; he was attentive,
obedient, energetic: but he did not open
the conversation; so Daisy herself final
ly made a remark, i'? S-2
" I suppose General Bullington told
you that you were to ride out with me
whenever I wanted to go."
"Yes, miss," replied the sergeant.
" Now, don't talk in that stiff" way,"
said Daisy, " when you know I know
better. Please don't be a sergeant, Mr.
Curran."
" Very well, then." said Mr. Curran,
becoming elastic suddenly, "if you are
so kind as to let me be my old self."
"Why, of course," said Daisy, "Ser
geants are not interesting."
"Thanks for the implied compli
ment." " Don't suppose that 1 imply any
thing," said Daisy. "Only please tell
me vour story."
"I have none to tell," said Mr. Cur
ran. " Oh, very well, then!" said Daisy,
and pouted. She could pout.
"Well, really, Miss Gilbert," said
Mr. Curran, "there is very little to say.
I wits born at an early age."
"You can skip that," said Daisy.
"Well, then," continued Mr. Curran,
" I w as engaged to be married by my
uncle, who has taken care of me since
my parents died, and whose fortune I
was to inherit. Now, it is a good thing
to be engaged. My uncle and myself
were agreed on that point; but we differ
ed on another."
"And that was?" asked Daisy.
" And that was the woman he select
ed. As I was going to marry for myself
and not for my uncle, I remonstrated.
Bemonst ranee made a row, and I enlist
ed for three years. The lady in ques
tion is married; my uuele is ready to
welcome me back; but I insist on serv
ing out my time, which lasts about five
months longer. Now, won't you tell me
vour storv?"
" Mine!" cried Daisy, "Why, noth
ing ever happened to me."
" I am very glad to hear it," said Mr.
Harry Curran; then there was silenco
for a little while.
" It was curious the way we first met;
wasn't it?" said Daisy.
"Very," said Mr. Curran.
So, affcer this, Daisy roil- tint fre
quently with her sergeant; and, as peo
pie generally mind their own business
west of the Mississippi, nothing was
said, except by the private soldiers, who
naturally envied their comrade's luck.
But one July dav when (ien. Bulling
ton sat, radiant in Panama hat and linen
duster, under the cotton-wood trees ou
tin bank of the creek, endeavoring to
beguile some unwary lish, he heard the
steps of horses, and lie heard voices.
The voices wen soft and low; he looked,
and saw Daisy ijid her sergeant, and he
heard them call each other "Daisy"
and "Harry." His first impression
was that he was dreaming; then as
he listened in astonishment to what they
were saying, he felt very young for a
few seconds; and then with an elephan
tine bound that threw his fishing-jKle
out into the creel;, he sprang to his feet,
and cried out, "Stop!"
They stopped. They were on the
opposite side of the crtek; and the gen
eral was forced to elevate his voice
slightly, so that the tableau was not en
tirely impressive.
"What," said the general f-ternly,
" does all this mean?"
Then Daisy began to cry, and the
sergeant tried to explain, in a straight
forward and manly way; and the general
felt himself growing steadily younger
and younger, and finally said,
" You needn't say anything more. I
don't know about such things myself;
but come over to my house immediately
on your return to camp."
And the pair rode off, ami the general
walked off slowly to his home.
' I never was worked up with any
thing romantic before," he said to him
self; "and I will never be again. What
right has a sergeant to be no sergeant
at all? And what will Matilda say?"
This is what Matilda said: she ad
vanced smilingly to meet her husband,
and said,
"What a charming little romance
this is!"
" What!" said the general: "vou like
it?"
"Certainly," said Mrs. Bullington:
" it is an excellent match. Why. gen
eral, he will come into half a million.
And the wedding is to be here in camp.
His time is up iu seven weeks now.
The general sat down and w iped his
forehead.
"Well," said he, "1 do not under
stand women."
Died of (irler.
A touching story comes from Mem
phis. An old man, Peter Bean by
name, a w ell-digger iu the locality for
something like thirty years, had a dog'
of which he was very fond. Peter was a
bachelor, and he lived a lonely life.
The only thing he tenderly fondled was
the dog who shared his bed and who
divided with his master the frugal meal.
Well, the dog, which was nearly
always by Peter's side, was large and
powerful of frame, and cheerful aud
playful in disposition. It seemed to
love its master with that perfect, en
during love that crowds all less weighty
objects from the heart. One day it was
separated a few hours from the old
man. Peter was patiently laboring at
the bottom of the well, when he faintly
heard the joyful bark of his favorite.
He looked up; there was a swift glance
of recognition, and then the light went
lout of the well-diggers eves forever.
The eager rush of the dog to greet its
master displaced a heavy bucket and
sent it crashing down upon Peter's head.
A few minutes after the battle-worn
man was dragged to thesurfaeeableeding
comse. With niteous howls the faithful
animal licked the ugly wounds, but the
fond caress could not reanimate the fast
stiffening body. The man was laid out
in his shroud, but before the grave
closed over the human form the dog
was also dead. It had stretched itself
before the cold clay of its master and
moaned out its life in griof. It is a sad
storv silvered o'er w ith touching beautv.
If we celebrate in verse the death of
Panthea, who slew herself upon the
the corpse of her beloved Abradatas,
why should we not drop a word of
sympathy for the dog who refused to
live because his master had died?
-A Washington street boy received a
dollar for learning eight hundred Bible
verses, and has bought with it a hand
some deck of lineuback cards.
UALLpF UF TJIK 11 ALL.
ors.
-Come ft$Ui iu ! How rre you i'red ?
FiliajLrt-bair, and have n liflit."
KKKt.
Jfl'ill, old boy, recovered yet
?tk'rvm th Mather's jam last Bight V"
'Didn't dam ; the German's uid."
tua.
"liulut you? I had to lead
Awful bore ; but where were you ?"
CIS.
Sat it out with llollie Meade.
'Jolly little girl she is
Said he didn't o-a-r-e to dance
Ilather have a quiet chat.
Then she gave me ucU a glance.
' So when you had cleared the room,
And had captured all the chair.
Having nothing else, we two
Took possession of the stair.
"I was ou the lower step '
il lib e on the next above.
Gave mo her bo'piet to hold
A-s-k-e-d me to draw on her fcloxe.
" Then, of course, I squeezed her baud
Talked about my wasted life
Kald my sole salvation must
lie a t rue- and gentle wife.
"Then, jou know, I used my eje.i
She believed me, every word.
Almost eaid she loved me Jove!
Such a voice I never heard.
Gave uie some symbolic flower
With a ineuniug, oh, so sweet '.
Oon't know where it is, I'm sure,
Milft have d-r-o-p-p-e-d it. in the street.
How 1 sjtooned ! and she the goose
Well, I know it wasn't right,
Uut she did believe me so,
That I k-i-8-s-e-d her; pas a light."
Jl I.IA.
"Mollie aloode! Veil, I declare:
And walking up the avenue I
After wliat occurred last night,
Who'd a-thought of seeing you V
"Oh, you awful wicked girl
There, don't blush I saw it all."
Saw all what
"Saw vou, iuM night,
At the Mather's in the hart."
Oh, you horrid ! where were you ?
Wasn't Gus an awful goose?
Most men must be caught; bnt be.
liuu bis nock r:ght iu the uooxe.
"I wus almost dead to dance
I'd have done it if I could
but papa eaid I must stop.
And I promised ma 1 would.
"So I looked up sweet, and said
1 didiit tuuiii a t.ilk with him,
Hope he didn't see my face
Luckily the lights were dau.
'Then he gently tcjuecicd my liilni.
IOoking swiftly in my fare
V 1th his handsome, loving eyes;
Ileully, he's a f uuuy cu--e '.
" He was aU so fsarnent, to.;
lint I thought I'd have to laugh
When be kissed a flower I gave.
Invoking silly as a calf.
" I suppose Gus has it now.
In a wine-glass on his slielves ;
It's a mystery o nic
Why men will deceive themsi-lves. . . .
"Saw him kiss me? oh! y m wretch :
Well he lMnred so bard for one.
And I thought thor'd no om know.
So I 1-c-l him Just for tun.
" I knew it wasn't really riuht
To trifle v.ith his feeling dear.
Hut men are such fiuir.y things.
They need a Lesson ouce a year.
En r.,;..
Hl'SIOUOUS.
Neck or nothing- -A ball dress.
l'.asy things to make Mistakes.
Belle mettle A young lady's tem
per. An indescribable circle A circle of
acquaintances.
Never have a wooden leg made of
oak, because the oak is apt to produce
a-corn.
-A watchmaker says he passes a
great many "springs" every year in his
sh p.
Hereafter the worst you can wish
your enemy will be, that somebody may
put a Mansard roof on him.
Pillows, though not belonging to
the human species, come under the head
oC rational beings.
A foreign medical journal remarks
that the most waxlike nation in modern
times is vaccination, because it is always
in arms.
"The earth is the Lord's." "Lots
40x150 for S-o0." These were the adjoin
ing inscriptions ut the Sea Cliffs camp
meeting grounds.
Saith the modern belle, hampered
by a weak treasury: "Dresses are long
and boots are worn high; stockings I
can do without, but ear-rings I must
have."
Old Equestrian: "Well, but you're
not the boy I left my horse with!" Boy:
"No, sir; I jest spekilated, and bought
'im of t'other boy for six cents!"
A baker has invented a new kind of
ruel Hud iimkes his bread SO light that
a H)und loaf weighs only twelve ounces.
A gentleman meeting a friend, who
was wasting away with consumption, ex
claimed: "Ah, my dear fellow, how
slow you walk!" "Yes," replied the
consumptive, "I walk slow, but I'm go
ing fast."
A St. Louis parent, w ho happens to
be blessed with a prodigal son, "re
joices more over one boy that runs away
and stays, than the whole family who
sponge their living off him at home."
An Indiana paper describes the
feast of a legislative delegation at a
railroad dinner. The reporter narrates
the facts in the case very pointedly,
"The delegates set at i r. m. They up
set at 5."..
Jackson, Tenn., young ladies tie up
their taper lingers, and when the young
gentlemen callers iu the evening inquire
the cause, blnshingly reply: "I burnt
them while broiling the beefsteak this
morning."
Human knowledge iz not very koni
prehensive, after all I have seen men
who kould kalkulato an eklipse tew a
square inch, who kouhln't cum within
thirtj foot uv harnessing a boss. Hil
ling. An advocate having gained a suit
for a joor young lady w ho was very ug
ly, she remarked: " I have nothing to
pay you with but my heart." "Hand it
over to my clerk, if vou please; 1 w ish
no fees for myself," lie replied.
An inebriated stranger precipitated
himself down the depot stairs, and, on
strildng the landing, reproachfully
apostrophized himself with: "If you'd
been a wontiu' to come down stairs,
why'n thunder didn't you say so, you
wooden-headed old fool, an' I'd come
with vou an' showed vou the wav."
Woody Oriental War in Propcrt.
From the New York Trihuue.
Dispatch es from the far Last indi
cate the imminence of an armed con
flict between Corea and the recognized
Emperor of Japan. It would seem al
most is fatality that Japan, witli which
we have such interesting relations, and
for which our countrymen cherish such
lively sympathy, should so soon be in
volved in a war which may test tho
value of international friendship. But
the Japanese are confident, ami with a
fair share of what we can afford to call
Yankee boastfnlncss, express thiir de
termination to vindicate their ancient
clrom 0 the fealty OT the Corea.
The original conquest of the country,
it is claimed by the Japanese, was about
sixteen hundred years ago, when the
Empress Jingo-Kongo, at the head of a
considerable army, invaded the Corea,
subjugated the people, and laid them
under tribute. This tribute was regu
larly paid for several centuries, but
Japan becoming involved in internecine
wars, the Coreans took occasion to allow
the payment to lapse, and many years
passed without the annual levy being
exacted. When Taieo Sama, the foun
der of the dual system of Imperial Gov
ernment, and a warrior of renown, came
to the Tyconate iu the sixteenth centu
ry, he demanded a renewal of tho tri
bute from the Coreans, and on their re
fusal invaded the country and brought
them to terms. The tax was paid until
the downfall of the late Tycoon, Chief
of the Tokugawa elan; and when the
Government, after a short struggle, was
relmbitated, and the present Emperor
became seated on the throne, he sent
word to the Corean Emperor that the
aunual tribute, payment .of which had
been suspended, must be forthcoming
with arrears. The Corean Government
replied in concise terms:
"We have received your letter, and
have given it very deep consideration,
comparing your dispatch with other dis
patches. It is a long time since there
has been any intercourse between the
two countries. Your dispatch demands
payment of tribute. We will show how
this affair stands. Taieo Sama, with
out provocation or cause of any kind,
invaded Corea, and made Corea sign a
document agreeing to pay tribute. Tn
those days Corea was unprepared for
war, and had not even been informed of
the intention of Japan. But it is wry
different now. The invasion of Taieo
was a crime committed against Corea
by Japan which is not punished. Your
demand is so unreasonable that, instead
of Corea paying you tribute, it is for
you to return the money paid by Corea.
This was turning the tables o7i Japan,
and as tribute had been paid for about
ten centuries, it wiU be seen that Corea
ha-; an enormous demand against Japan
to ollVet that for the tribute in arrears.
It can hardly be expected, however,
that Corea is fit earnest in anything
further thnn u vigorous defense of th
threatened invasion. Such a conflict
would b" further complicated by tho at
titude which China would be compelled
to assume, for China, in its turn, lias
held a loose sort of domination of Co
rea. When the famous Sluing dynasty
was overthrown 15. C. 1122, the Viscount
Ke, a determined enemy of the Chew
dynasty which succeeded to the crown,
tied to Corea, where he was afterward
invested with the sovereignty of the
country by the reigning Emperor of
China. In this characteristically Chi
nese manner Corea was annexed to
the Celestial empire, and a show of trib
utary dependence was kept up until
modern times. China cannot be neu
tral inany war between Japan and a
country which has up to a very recent
period acknowledged dependence on the
Chinese Empire.
Corea has a population of :!. 000,000,
an army if 040,000, men and a navy of
JIM) vessels. But Japan, with a popula
tion four times a.s large, and an im
mense, well-drilled army, equipped
with some of the modern improvements
of warfare, may well lioast of being able
to subdue her semi-barbaric adversary.
The contest must needs be largely naval;
and the world will have an ortunity
to discover of how much practical alue
her new fleet and armament really ure
to modern Japan.
Horace (reeleys Funeral.
On tlje occasion of Mr. Greeley's
funeral. Lev. Henry Ward Beeeher de
livered the follow ing eloquent and touch
ing tribute: No one dies w hose death is
not momentous of all who have passed
away.
Not one has gone for a long time who
will carry with him so much reverence,
so much honor, so much devotion. Who
is tiii man who gets all these civic
honors? Who is this nmn ? Was lie one
of these great princes of wealth ? Wiim
he one of great military renown? No;
and yet here are men from every
walk in life. Here is our Chief Magis
trate and our most prominent citizens
from nil parts of the country gathered
around the bier of this man who is now
no more. Here we see that criticism is
disarmed. A little time ago and men's
political passions were all aroused, and
we differ as much on politics as ever :
but here lies this man who, but a brief
time ago, was'a greut leader in the land.
And why do men of all parties gather
here in reverence around his remains?
It is because the man is greater than
his jwilitics. Hereto-day, between the
two (' ai.s there is scarcely a man or
child who has not felt the beneficent in
flir of ti c chaiaeter of Horace
( ir (; .
11 uac Grr ! y g;ve tl; strength ot
his lit'e. to edue. iioii. '. iiniii:t..ity, and
i.spKci.vi u to ri!': eo; ::
W 'iO could little In ip tilt 111 le.-. He
had a gre.it heart, which l -utrcd for
sympathy. Tlri-igh he le. -.y not be re-mcmb.-ied
by t!io.,e ; : -noiia I s which
carry tin r men's names dwn, h will
be r. tnemlii red t l.rouv ml this !.,::d for
thoe great ii'iiditie- of uiiii iand heart
which make hi chtoiu-ter commensurate
US it Were will', t he geil.i 1-. of thisjjl'etlt
! republic. .Hi- influence ha--."one out
to teu'h ;i ii 'er manhood to the
j mechanic, the l:il..:vr, aud farmer.
: What more can we say iu eulogy of the
j character of this illustrious dead ? Alas !
iilas! He, through a long and not iu
i tempestuous voyage, has reached the
! shore. How blessed are tin dead that
j die in the Ijord ! May God grant that
i in the solemnity of these thoughts, in
I which we have gatht red here, it"may
be our happy lot that when we die,
! angels shall open the gates and receive
I us into glory.