Newspaper Page Text
lowa County Democrat.
* VOL. XII. if)' s]VEirrm:.\i!T-~A /m/mdo.v. Sivy, leu. \ ,iu s i-n nit wrothrntt r sot Tli.-ii your eves li.no miss.-1 ‘'neoftli fultest faces l hat o'er tin- mi.iltKlil kissc.i. Hit ous are w,■ 51 s ..f love-leon. Iter lips aIV ( upiil's how; Hit smilo is like a siiuln-afi; I lor brow like driven sao.i ; tier loots a crown of glory; Her i-iit'vk mi p issiii;i lair Thai zephyrs. as they I.au u, Dolinin in Incjcr tlu-ic. vli know y.-n not my sweetlicnt Dfivrt-r to mi- than 1 iV? Im-!ln your car. I'll to-1 yon: Mi sweetheart is mu trh. . - y. >. s,union riw.s.j SIGNS Ob' Sl‘RL\<;. Potato hugs arc hnddinsr out. W c sev Hu? hopper's li ful glaum. Amt now the cm- au.t toothsome trout I Cavorts w thin tin- native stream: Ami now tin. I) itobiril chants a lay Atnl n.liliins twiner in the tiers The bullfrog's murmur's, all the day. Come (loanin' on ilie balmy breeze; ' The ground-hog issues from his i ole And browse on 111 - corn, . oor thing - Those omens to the pool’s soul aro harbingers of ear v spiiie’. —SI Lovh ,/oi/ca#/. MISS BERTHA'S VALENTINE. Harper's Bazaar. Every body said that Miss Bertha was very much alone in the world, won dered what on earth she would do if her eyes and health should fail her, and pitied her in that easy-going way which subtracts nothing from the pocket, hut leaves a residue of self-satisfaction in the conscience, while they paid as little for her services as they could help. But Miss Bertha never grumbled; she put as many stitches and us much eye sight into the line sewing as if she had been paid a ducat for every stitch. 1 1 j was her way never to slight any thing. | But sewing was not the only occupation ! in which site excelled. If any poor struggling mother with little children; toddling about her fell ill. Miss Bertha ! quilted her needle into her cushion and stepped into the breach; when watch-] ers failed, Miss Bertha came to the l front; and when tin 1 small-pox visited the little sea-port of Great Herrington,! it was she who went about from house: to House, giving draughts and doses,' comforting the dying, and making the] last ghastly toilette for the dead. “What does it niatu-v t<> mo’'’ sin said, when someone expostulated tit the risk “There's nolio,ly in the wide world to mind whether I live or die. I’m the light of nobody’s eyes, and as for disfigurement—law! 1 left oll'caring for my good looks, such as they were, twenty years ago. Time was when 1 should have been as beared as any of I you about being marked and losing my complexion, hut it doesn’t signily in the least now. If I were ugly as a night mare, folks would give me their sewing to do just the same, 1 suppose.” “Oh, but I should hate to be so dis figured that Sam wouldn’t like to look at me!” said Sue Blair, all pink and white, and eighteen, with the world be fore her. “I dare say; hut there’s no Sam to rare whether I’m a fright or not;” and Miss Bertna drew in her breath with a quick gasp, as if the fact hurt her. “ You don’t know, Miss Bertha,” laughed giddy Sue; “ your Sam may he on the road to you.” “ \ precious long road.” “ Why, Aunt. Janet was as old as the | hills before she married Uncle Arte-] mas, and I’arson Cliapell’s second wife was no chicken. Every body has liiinces, they say.” "Yes, 1 suppose every body has] chances; hut some of them are mighty! small —hardly worth calculating,” she returned. Miss Bertha, to be sure, never accept-, ed anything hut thanks for these ser vices in the sick-room; indeed, few dreamed of offering any remuneration, i i >tio might have supposed that the uni verse had provided her for their benefit,, along with seed-time and harvest, the common air, and other f*-nmon bles -ings fur which nobody was expected to render any return other than to make use of them. Her neighbors staid at 'tome, stilling with burned brimstone and ti camphorated atmosphere, and yet caught the infection, while she walked abroad in the thick of it, shirk ing nothing, and came out, like those hold men from the fiery furnace, un scathed, yet more or less reduced in finances. She was a cheerful body, and doubtless sent to carry warmth and healing into the sick-room. But poor Miss Bertha had not always been old and useful and thoughtful fir others. “You must have been pretty once.” that heedless chatterer Sue Blair had said to her one day. “ What make- you think so?” asked Bertha, lifting her faded eyes to the mirror. “It is like tracing the exist ence of the extinct megatherium from a foot print in the rock.” But Sue -poke truly. Bertha had been fair in her day: the hair that was white as new-fallen snow had once been brown and bonny; the eyes, which to day were sunken and pale, had looked out like lucent beryls from under dark lashes; time and toil and trouble had robbed the satin skin of its fine texture, and seamed it with many a line: little of youth remained to her hut a heart alive to generous imnulses, and the col or that still burned in her cheeks in MINERAL POINT, WIS., FRIDAY, MARCH 8, 1878. spite of the frosts of her forty-odd win ters. Yes. Miss Bertha had had her heyday. Miss Johnson, the .-quire's daughter, who lived in tin- lineal house in Great Herrington, a ioT ‘silks that coulil stand alone and reaching to her heels, who ate otf French ehina every day. and who had never known what it was to sutler from hunger; cold, or fatigue; who had never had a sorrow or a lover --even she might have envied poor Miss Bertha those haleyon days when Angus Aiken loved her. when they walked together in the moonlit gardens in their English home, and sat beside the fountains, and listened to tin' silvery monotone, like some sad and gentle voiee complaining. No doubt Miss Johnson would have bar tered all her dry goods and imported finery for an experience as rich as this of her elderly seamstress, about whom no romance seemed to linger. To he sure, every body in Great Herrington knew that after the visitation of the small-pox Parson Ghapell had invited Miss Bertha to share his temporal bles sings, which consisted of a small salary and four mischievous boys with torn jackets and dirty faces. “The- parson wanted a housekeeper," the neighbors agreed, “Of course a n an of his age don't fall in love like a boy—with an old maid too! Seems as though she must have thought he’d a k again—with a house all carpeted from garret to cellar, and the gentry in his gales, so to speak! I wonder what Miss Itertha expects at her time of life too —when oilers of n aren't as plenty as wrinkles." Hut Miss Itertha expected nothing. There was that in her history which -he would not exchange for the kiicv ve of the earth and the glory thereof, tin dust of twenty years had m no wise tar nished tin'brightness of it. She had her anniversaries which no one reckon ed but herself; delicious anniversaries of half-guessed happine- s; days full o! sunshine and the music < if the spheres: dark and cruel days, when tire clouds that threatened showed no silver lin ings. On such a morning, so main years ago, Angus and she had gone out to gather spring (lowers, and the wood had been full of spicy odors, and the pale blood root was waiting for them, it petals nil on tiptoe; at such another dav they hsu-„„,i j 0 tlic- nightingale’s tinting, w hile the stars stole bin .... jf to listen with them, and the new mom. I ) ung a golden bow low in the heavens, I and she had asked, “Do yon never wish by the new moon, Angus?’| “Never," he had answered; “hut l! shall to-night; I shall wish that yon! may love me forever and ever." And . then ho had kissed her, and "thenight-1 ingales kept fluting.'’ There was that day in June which should have been; their wedding day; and the time when I he kissed her last, under the golden la burnum-tree; and then that dreadful morning when her father came home, black as a thunder-cloud, and swore she should never marry the son of the man who had ruined him, who had robbed him of the invention into the perfection of which he had put all his money, his 1 hopes, and his energies for years. Ber tha had refused to renounce her lover I on account of his, father’s wrong; (here! had followed a scene; then her father had seemed to soften, and had traveled to Ixmdon with her to talk the matter! over with a lawyer. She had been glad enough to go, for was not Angus some where in the great throng of London at his work? would she not he sure to meet him? But the day after they reached the hig noisy city her father had taken her out and on hoard a ship, sight-seeing; and suddenly, while she look's] and lis tened and wondered and talked with the captain —who was in the secret suddenly the shore, Hie masts, the stee ples. began to recede, and they were standing out to sea, hound for America. Oh, what a long and hateful voyage it was! how she longed for the sight of Angus, to say just one parting word, to tell him it was no fault of hers, and she should love him forever and ever! What terrible days they were which carried her farther and farther from England! The line weather seemed wasted with out Angus. When storms hore down upon them she only shivered at the thought of dying apart from him. But as they drew near the New World, her father, we akened by a long and useless struggle with fortui e, and broken utter ly hy this " nnkindest cut." gave up the contest and lay down to die. “ Promise me, Bertha,” he begged “promise that you will never write to that man’s son, that you will hide your self from him. Promise me. or 1 shall not rest in my -.rave. Promise, child, and 1 shall die easy, w illingly. I'm yon refuse this last request?” \rd amidst gri<T and distraction, poor Bertha prom ised. And she had kept her promise for twenty years and better. Never one word fir Angus had crossed the water to tell him whether she lived or died, though longing thoughts and wishes! went out to him on every wind than blew, though night after night her pillow was wet witii hitter tears, though he; had never been out of her mind, wak ing or sleeping. At fir-l she had com forted herself with the belief that lie would find her out himself; but as time passed, this hope faded and died, and was given decent burial. How should he know that she had proved true, that she nad loved him on and on? Why should he not suppose tint .-he had left him on her own choice he. mv she scorned the son of Ids father? Nq doubt he had taught himself ta unlove her, had almost forgotten the old fondness, the old hurt; had married some good woman, and was happy hy his u \vn tire side with hi> children, flu- hoped he was happy; as for that good woman, she Hid not (cure to think ot her over much, But daily site pictured him in the midst of his faintly-nicttired him young and handsome, wilt the color in his smooth cheek, the b-,tn shade in his waving hair, the spartlo in his eyes, forgetting that twenty ye;is had robbed him of youth and its hearty. When her father died there had not been enough money left in the purse to take her home to England, though Gap lain Seymour would gladly have carried her back without it if site would have ! taken him for better r worse. After-i ward she bad parted with her trinkets j on< in one for her dail; bread, till she ; could earn with all hit the shining! ring that Angus had jivcu her, and I which was now worn qu.to thin, though ; the odd legend engrave* within was vet plainly legible. “ 'hough he snsk tl'l In he jam, I.nv e will ti ml em |iie \ nv." But in all these twenty years she had never saved enough front her iteeessi.ies to pay her homeward piSsage. If per •■■bailee she gut a I’mv ddlars ahead, some poor soul's grealern <ed appealed to her: and it was nov fifteen years since she had gravitated (■> Great Her rington and east anchor l>nl no one in all the place dreamed tint romance had ever touched mi plain aul old and com in in-plaee a I’ody as Mis Bertha, who was doubtless made to s-yv, to lend tin sick, and s|jr gruels aid broths and mustard pla-ders, leavin; tin l poetry of! life lor her young neighbors She had I been nut, toward the D-t of January, i watching till night, and \; she stepped : into tin* Iro-ty air, and berttn In remem ber that she yv,is hungry and drowsy, j she suddenly menu n tern Dr. March i coming round a cornet'. “ Speak of angels and you hear their i yvings,’ said he. "I yy.ts thinking of; you. Miss Bertha, (his wry ;> innle.' " 1 Mn'l turn my head,doert." N\ ell. yon.see. the bag \hhy .late- 1 came in t.|,( week. Sin's,: whaler ; been oil’ the-i years. Most of the ; crew li.l.ing tn Gr.-i.y He Region, and the ,1 -nee take it |l the,, (li llow „ with the slnp-fi ver; eanieasli;,,, |IS well as yon are 100. \’m\ dn. ''ntner is, some have families to look nfier them, and some hav* n’t; and all the penile are as seared as they yyet e in the small pox panic, and nurses can’t he found for love or money at least not enough. I’ve been up myself these Ivo nights yvith one poor fellow, who’s vild tts a hawk, and I'm ready to dnp, not to speak of my other patients, aid 1 can’t find any body willing to lookifterhim; and 1 didn't know 1 thought o myself, ‘ There's Miss Bertha, she’s thwy.s ready to do a good turn, and she jin’ afraid of man, the devil, or the smul-pix—’ ” “ And so you’d like me to goto him ?” •‘EzXticily. He'll die if you dout't. It’s missionary work, Mil Bertha. 1 don’t know i the man kata sou to pay a nurse.” “ 1 don't yvant any mom!, if he has,” said she. “That’s lucky. Gome bine with me and drink a cup of Mrs. torch's codec, and then I’ll take you tot) Herrington Arms. There’s where m patient put up when In* came ashore. Looks as if he’d no kith or kin in tlnplace, and 1 don't icmcmber his fa.ee iiliese parts,” “ Boor fellow! poor ffii-v'” Miss Bertha had forgotten thatho had hecn up over tiiglil and was link r astless. “ I thought, to ho sure,'site mused, during the next night vigils “ | thought, to be sure, hiwas a young man; but he is grayer tin ( am. I yvondcr if liis \yife is lining for him home soon. He isn’t witln r-healen like a sailor: his hands a white and soft and yvell kept, like gentleman's, 1 don’t believe he ever hu and the ropes ! before this voyage. Leaps lie is re duced in circumstances, til w ent whal ing to seek his fortune, yvondcr if lie will die." But the diseali-fl her little time fur idle rellecliorund surmises, the services of thedoctoend the occa sional assistance of thother nurses whose patients were eonweing, being all tin- relief afforded h One night, as she moved ah ml the loin, coaxing tin* the into a glow, sting the gruel in the porringer, pouriuhe wine, dis charging the ninety-amine little du ties of (he sick-room, it;tiled to her that the patient follow her with his eyi - curiously ihosijreal hollow, ( darkling eyes, full of sajuesiioning. “ Du you want to aske any tiling?” ■ she said, pausing besides pillow, and meeting the ga/.e. “ i’erhaps,” In- falter- “ perhaps— ( you could tell me— wh- I am—and ' how—l came here? .’ 1 awake—or dreaming?" ** You are in the tovof flreat Her*’ rington, at the Jlerrirm Arms," she answered him. " Vohave been ill with ship-fever. Vocume in the whaler Abby Jane, Dr. m b tells me, j which had picked yod the wreck of the Atlas, bound for -Nhj’ork—yon and others. You have he very ill, and you must not talk.” "And you have ml my life, i. heard the doctor say ibis morning.*’ l 1 “ Hush, hush; that's only the doctor's I palaver." Mi-- Bertha, I'm afraid you've won | that poor 1c 1 low s heart that von've been taking care ol at the I lernngton \rms,” said Dr. March, drop; ing in a week or so alter he had ordered her home to lake care of herself, ie-i lie should have another patient on his hands. " lloh been pmnning medry ahon; yon: wants to know why yon never married. I told lorn because nobody asked yon hut I'arson Ghapell, and he was too hig a I'ill i ;* " That’s because yon didn't prescribe him," said M;ss Bertha. Just then Sue Blair put her rosy head in at the door. " Have yon smoked out, Miss Bertha?' said she. "Is it quite safe for me to come in? I've sneh a lovely valentine from Sam, of course that 1 must ; show you, even if 1 eateh the lever. It's St. Valentine's Day, you know, Did you j ever have a valentine, Miss Bertha?" "Once ages nearer the beginning." "Oh, hy-the-way,” put in Dr. March, “here’s something for you that I took from the mad as 1 came along. It’s a wonder I remembered it. Perhaps it’s a valentine loo; it has a blue stamp. Who know < ?” “ IVrhnps so," laughed Miss Bert hr., opening, and reading Tlio gli In l M-i-k 1(11 In' In' lain, 1 .‘ivi' will lUiit out Ilie wan . ' A s.ii-s An,: v ‘ II niuiNiif.is \uvi" ' \\ hy, w hat does it mean ?" she cried, rising and dn-hing strangely, " Who : eonld have been so cruel ? \\ ho could know? Who "My dear child," said Dr. March, " w ho could k’tow whatVnv.ns A ikcn is the name of inn patient at the 11, r i ington Arne. Didn’t 1 tell yon that >mi hail w m In- heart ? It- \ alen line indeed!" “ Just to thinksaid the second Mrs, Ghapell “just to think of Mi-- Bertha marrying at her lime of life! A bo's going (ii do our owing now ? Wonders never will cease. And to mini, that it was an old all'.vir o( twenty years stand ing’ And they sty he' been Iroin Dan in Beersheha I ' hud her, and has more money than he knows what to do with." Line i. ruling n,, A hi idnl coup], . witll more si vie id'out them than a gras* widow, honor ed tlm Indiana House with their pres cnee two or three days during the past week. I’hey gave the dining-room a mighty tony look hy marching in m meal time arrayed in th, ir new clothes, with while gloves on, and when old man Hyman first saw them betook one square look, and then set down his cof fee-pot and went nut into the kitchen and laughed until Ids eye-hulls fell pointed. In that supreme ‘moment he felt that he was paid ton times over with compound interest for all (he trials, vexations and unpaid hoard hills en countered in his exper.ence since he left (lie old farm. When the dining-room girl g.g her face straight enough to get behind their chairs and say : “ Roast beef, roast pork, lamb, chick en or ilsh 1” the bridegroom said, “ Chicken and fish; ’ hut the bride, with the characteristic pn Hence of mind' for which her sex has ever been noted, interposed "l>. no, ducky dear, w.- can’t take any o that; for don't you know, pidgv widgy. ’(would muss our glove up? We’ll have to have something we can eat with mir knives and forks ” “Si we will, bonny him eyes; 1 never I thought u that. What do von say to roast beef, then, huxy-pnxy? Gun we Igo Some o' that, sweety?” asked the | happy man. No, no, daily, it’s always lough, and we might splash the gravy and soil our clothes; don't yon see,’ honey dew? Let s take lamb, pootsie that’s always tender; 1 don’t care much about it, but it cuts so easy, lovey, and I expect their knivi - are as dull as a hoe,” remarked the bride. “ Well, I don't care, dumv; whatever | you mi y, fori s'jiOHe we’ve got to keep | up appearances; hut, hum my buttons, : sugar liunn, if I haiu'l got ,i cjoufouncl | <l l*i nolioiiH (o pi cl off these milieus and wade into some o’ that 'ere chicken .•md f.r I’m all killin’ fond of it, and these hlanicd things sweat tny ; hands so, doosy-poosy, and pucker anil | draw wor-.ii a stiekiii'-|>laster, and hang nie if | don't a!.nos! console they’ve , Idi'tere l tny lingers ail up,” ■'N i, no never, goosey, don’t do! that for the world, or every body’ll i know we’re from the country, tin’ may- i he they II jail ns in the papers. hnhhv and; at. tin’ wouldn’t that he awful?" And the young wife had her own way about it, as they always do. llrtakfutd Tuhl As an evidence of the dullness of the' limes we may state that during the last ten or twelve months no one has dis covered imbedded in the center of a* reck, .‘/(XI feet In low the surface of the earth, a live toad Happened to he 2,000 years old. This wearying discussion of the financial question is prostrating all kinds of business,— SurritUwn (I’a,) Herald. Humor. \ lirasr Answer I loot or; "Thomaa, jdid Mrs. I’opjov u*'l the medicine I ordered vesterda vl'homas; •• | |b’lee\V‘o. sir; 1 see all the blinds down this morning." -huhi. Tim next tdovernor of Illinois will pardon Hande, and, tinally, he will be oomo a I’enitentiary Commissioner. a Sh>i iO', Congressman, or something. •v. l ewis i\*i. riio Indianapolis .lotoiui! has Hopped again, and says tin' salvation of the country depends on the President, sign ing the silver hill. No.v sonielmdy I old the .Ammo/ down with a slab, South lU'iiii Trillion-, An editin' says he heard reeenlly how a man enred a neighbor newspaper borrower, I; is told tints; ’■ Mr. Jones, lathe-, wants to borrow your paper; he only wants to read ii." “Well, go haek and ask your rather to lend me [ his supper; 1 only want to tat it." The next t'xening the hoy did not come. The unavoidable iptestion: “ Which is which, and which isn't?" has already been agitated in Alphonso’s household, The young man was heard to inquire lhi> other morning, in tom's of the deepest agitation: “ See here, von so i"ilh'd Majesty ! who's doing this king ing, anv bow yon or I?" Oil ('Hit Ihr rich. A creditor in Maysvi'h', Ky., nought • o gel an attachment on tln> ground that his debtor had Haiti: “ I'm going to hi 1 11 on t and go loin'll,” thus juMilying a lu lift that In' intended In t|uii tln> Stale. Ihe justice deeided that Hnt remark was no indieaiion that tlu> debtor meant to go out of Kentucky, I ’iiifimtr'i Viiiiik, I hiring the recent civil war there were two volunteers 1\ mg heneath their blankets. looking up at the stars m a Virginia sky. Hays,lack: " What, made von go into tln> army, Tom?” ‘‘Will,’' replied Tom, “ I had no w il l< and 1 loved war. What made yon join the army, •lack “ \\ ell,” he replied, *' 1 had tv wile and low and peace. W In n Martin Van Ihtren was told ot the marriage of his son, Smith Van Unrcii, he Haiti: “ 1 thought he had given that girl up. Well, he’s mined. She is very rich. Now he'd give tip his profession of the law. where he had great, ability, and heroine really tv rich man the feast nsemi of human things, IN>or Smith.” Cnieago hoa*t* of a woman tlial ha* hair seven feel long. Now, wo arc nut a helling mini, Iml wo ant ready to wager everything we ow n, right down to onr mmjtender buckle*, that tin* in the woman who niakoH our hotter. Dan liury yaw. We have a nhorlor arlieht lor a leuM price, if the I >an lin ry AW< dislike* to change hi* regular diet.- I tilri~ Ocean. “Well, IVe been noti**in dat do w hite folkea Mince do wall don't hah haf e* much time to work in an day used ter,’’ “ And why?" “ Kiwi 'fore de wall de while folkea neither m till the rooster* crowed. Now, wid ho many loose* nigger* in de land, rooster* i* jiow'ful *ka*e, an’ when or white man re** under do 'fusion dal day don’t hreak till *omefin'holler*, he’* liorhul ter looe do 10’clock trano ehery day in the yeah !"- Atlanta t\m*titutwu. UiiMsian women go out of door* with their children, but seldom with their husband*; and a man i* not expected • o take notice of another linin'* wife by bowing to her if *ho pa**e* him on t*e Htreets. One of the sight* which Hlirprie a UiiHiian of the midland eilieH most when he gm * to Hi. I’eler*- lung, Momcow or Ode*Ha, i* to notice the proinUeiion* (low of hoth *exe* in the street* and in place* of amuHO* incut. An 11 ( town man and hi* wife agreed recently to learn a ver*e of Scripture i very evening and repeal it to each other fur mutual improvement. The hist night, however, her ((dotation happened to he: "Ain 1 not thy rul er V and hi* wan to the etleel that I e’d he hanged if she was; and the re*ull* of the plan *o tar has'heen that he ha* taken to drink, and exhibit* w ilhngne** lo sleep in the woodshed Tiighl*. --hlr vhanyv. 1 I’ lll - latest Washington social scnsa limi in the engagement nf Senator Don I ( 'am cron to Miss l.i/./.m Sherman, of •Ilia iily, Minn Sherman lion been ;t(,ending the winter in the family of Seeietary Slierman, und her bounty and i n<■< •>>l l ,)) 1 if*l l l l m■ nt < have made lier one |'d llie imvl oonqiieuous onnuneiitH to I U adiington seeiety. The matrimonial | alliance of two of the strongest political | families in the country is an event of 1 more than ordinary magnitude for the i (irundy'rt of the cajdtal to contemplate, < Jewinvil Ilmitti, A tiiiucion iron roller lay at the top of a high hill in Knreka, (ill. A hoy called his comrades’ attention to the chance for fun in weeing it go clow'll the long and heavy grade. They alar tod it with considerable ditlloully, and at the very outlet it ran over a pile of latc*s and school hooka, crushing tliorn to hit*. Gaining speed as it whirled along, it aoou overtook and flattened a dog. Next, it aruaalied a wagon, from which a man jumped just in time to save hia life; and then, quitting the road, it craahed through u Chinaman’s shanty, and buried itself in a ravine. no. :u).