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lowa County Democrat. * 7 VOL. XII. MY LVCK. She taut come to visit Nut's sister, A tut there 1 met her one night ; A cousin, 1 think of the family. And a girl rather handsome and bright. 1 remember we looked at an album: Amt 1 told her how much 1 could guess if one's character ,is: from a nietuie: “Now witness," said I " my success." Here's a photograph of a young maid. n, Ho(h pretty and modest and irue," She tail'ly colored with pleasure: Why that's,” sho exclaimed, "sister Sue;" Rut hero," 1 continued, eluted, “ Is the worst looking fellow thus far: A stupid, old senseless curmudgeon," she simply said, 1 Thai's my papa " --llamini i rimso ~ rnrrisa. I show'd my love my fond heart. And asked would she lie mine Till cruel death do as part 1 she answered me, arh m in .’ 1 showed mv love mv bank-book— Ah. then 1 touched her soul! she sighed, with such a frank look. And sweetly lisped, yah wn/i: .V. Commercial \'lnrlis,r. RE HOLETTE'S ESCAPE. Harper's Weekly. “ It is farther than it looks," said Ke clolcttc. "Nut too far for us to climb,” answer ed the sunny-facod boy who held Kedo lotto’s hand while he gazed resolutely tip at iht' mwnn'ain’s greenwood height. “ We can be there by sundown, and run back before it is dark.’ " Well. then. I’ll ask leave.” "Ask leave? Are you not your own mistress, Kedoletle ?" “ No; 1 must obey my husband.” gravely the little maid replied. " Your husband !” eried Willie Locke. " A’es, he is here in the house. I al ways a-k his leave when he is at home. 1 do it in the beginning, because it will he so ail the rest of my life. 1 am learning, he says, to he his wife. ’ "What do you mean. Kedoletle?” asked the hoy, dropping her hand and turning to her with great earnestness, his eyes ablaze, his cheeks Hushed. “ You do not—you surely do not mean Judge Hunt when you say ‘ my hus band?’ Oh, yon are not in earnest; you are teasing, you are Joking; you tiro notin earnest, Kedoletle?” “ In earnest, Willie.”the girl replied. “Do not look so tierce. Are yon a wolf? Are you going to eat me up?” “ No, In is the wolf,” said Willie in dignantly. " l lei v*' always boon Ids little wife, said Kedoletle, “ 1 was horn so. ‘ Ever since Kedoletle was a hahy,’ ho says, ‘she has been mine.’ lit is my guardian. My dying father left me in his hands, and he lakes care of me, and takes care of tin money I am to have when I am of age; but before that, til least so Aunt Khoda declares, although 1 don’t say so quite —before that we shall probably he mar ried. There! Now, Willie, I’ll go and ask leave.” Whin nt another word she ran up the path at whose outer terminus, the .gar den gate, they had been standing while they talked, and disappeared in the house. She returned all smiles. “Judge Hunt has gone down to the village for the evening letters, and auntie says we may go to ‘ Hlock Height,’ if we will hurry home.” Sho offered to take Ids hand again as they went through the gate, but Willie drew proudly back. Sho started inquiringly, but still smiling. “Now, Willie,” she said, “don’t spoil our dear little time. Please don't be cn iss." “ 1 am not cross," said Willie; " I was never less so in my lite. Hut I certainly shall not take the hand of another man's wife. You do not understand me, Kedoletle,” said this man of eigh teen to the baby woman at his side, in a voice thrilling with emotion and stinging with reproach. “Oh, Ido," said Kedoletle, deeply shocked at His vehemence. “ Indeed 1 do, Willie. 1 understand you with all my heart.” They had gonosome paces down the maple-arched road before she spoke again, and during that time Willie had taken the hand he had re jected. and not only that, hut he had transferred it from his right hand to his left, so that he might encircle with In firm arm her little waist. She turned to him fully her innocent, sweet face — was there ever a face more sweet and more innocent? —and said. “ You art the only thing, Willie, in all the world that I il<i understand,” “Oh, Kedoletle !’’ sighed Willie, and he kissed her cheek. She broke away from him then, and they had a race. They raced down the road to the lane; raced up the lane to the pasture fence; leaped over the' fence, and this without any appeal for 1 assistance from Kedoletle. for she was a mountain maid, and free and agile as a bird: raced across the upland meadow, and then Willie caught up. The ascent negan; it became steeper and more steep; they went slowly and more slow. Rugged the way was that looked so i smooth, viewed from below. They climbed wearily the steep stones, stop ping occasionally to take breath, and to look back with delicious little finger ings at the pictured field and wood B‘rctched at their feet, and the zigzag' village clinging to the river's brink as, for dear life. MINERAL POINT, WIS., FRIDAY, MARCH IS7B. Hefore sundown they reached the height. They found a seat Just wide enough for two in the crevice of the great square rock that gave to this ac cessible hill-summit, perched amid prouder mountain heights, its familiar name, " Hlock Height." Flushed ami excited, and again cooled and calmed, they rested, while behind them the sun went down, its orb quite hidden by in terlocking Hills, and known only in its final departure by the uplifting from tin' vallev of the skirt of sumptuous light. " Now , Kedoletle, we must have a solemn talk." ‘•(it'llem////," said Kedoletle, with a 'demure yet coquettish accent, " 1 do not like solemn talks." “ Never mind," Willie insisted, authorialively. "whether you like them or not. Kedoletle—" He paused; he was going to say, ‘‘Kedoletle darling," but he restrained, for the sake of solomnitv, his boyish warmth. " Kedo lette, how old are you?” She folded her hands in her lap, and I looked down like a child at school I called to tlu> recitation bench. One j roguish dimple vanished beside her mouth. " 1 shall tie sixteen the fifth of next month." "Sixteen! And what do you know ?” Kedoletle laughed. " I know lint." Willie knew that too. " Sweet six teen—sweet sixteen !" he said in his heart. He asked her,gravely, " Where have you been at school ?" "1 went for some lime to Dr. K ’s class at / , Hut 1 have not been the last three terms. Judge Hunt does not believe in schooling lor girls. Just now I am taking lessons in house keeping of my aunt. I stitch shirt bosoms every day -four threads of the linen forward and two threads hack, the regular old-fashioned way, I sew and cook and hake." "Hake!” repeated Willie, indignant ly. “Or sometimes 1 fry. It depends upon whether ’lis doughnuts or bread. I would nitlur fry than hake; it is more exciting." “ I should think so. indeed. Why, Kedoletle, these are tin' tortures of the Inquisition for you. Fry and hake ! They might as well roast yon at the take. Of course these tilings have to he done. We must have shirt bosoms and bread, and if is right that yon should learn how to do them, or how to have them done; hut—spend your life at such tasks? The idea is absurd. We might as well harness doves to drays, or burn rose-biuls in nor grates. Every work has its own workers. My dear child there are two rules for prac tical life —first, the greater must not he sacrificed to the less, and second Here Willie was going to quote Carlyle at length, hut he recollected that he was talking to a girl, and he modified the grand sentences of the philosopher ending in, " Know wliat thou eansl work id," into, “ And you should do, Kedo lette, what yon can do best. Now if you can really do nothing belter than stitch and cook, then that is yonr work. Hut in this age of the world yon are not forced; yon can yonr have choice; and you must remember that we are living in the time of sewing machines and scientific cooks. There is no need of immolation in those departments of labor. We are living in a time "j Willie hesitated in the midst of his elo- 1 qnence, (lurried hy a little thing; just the touch of Ins hand hy Kcdolctte's 1 an action softly, shyly done, hut causing him to descend from His speech to look j into her face. He paused for a mo ment, enchanted hy the serious sweet I gaze of her dark eyes fixed upon hi-.; Hut lie recovered himself and went on: “ Do yon know what age of the world you belong to, Red Jette? Do you know that yon are a citizen of ('liristen dom? Yon have no right to go hack loan age yon were not horn in; yon have no right to marry a man who he longs exclusively to that age, and avail 1 yourself of nothing that has occurred I since in the great march of progress.' V< m nui go hack if you desire it. Von are free; you live* in a free land. Hut if yon do not desire it, if yon feel that there is something higher in you than a lite of drudgery, nnlighted hy liberty that ‘ makes drudgery divine,' nnlighted by love —and, oli ' lledoh-tte, you do not know what yon are relinquishing when you relinquish the possibility of love — if you feel a stir in yonr pnl.-e that heats with what is highest and nearest true in the time we live in, ihirlinn Ifi d olette ” (this time the emphasis was laid with sufficient stress to compensate i for the former restraint), “ then 1 would die a thousand deaths rather than sec yon met in these woods by a selfish soul, like lied Kiding-hood hy the wolf, and lured into a thatched hut, and ‘ eaten up,’with no ear to hear yonr poor innocent cry of. ‘<h, what big eyes you’ve got!’ and ‘Oh, what -harp teeth you’ve got " ” Willie was excited now. He fright ened Kodoleltc. She sprang up before him with a low cry—a genuine cry of pain, like a hurt child. A sudden pal lor swept Iter face; the paleness as of a woman s pang swept her childish face. Then Willie took her in his arms, and called her his precious love, and sooth-j ed tier with his tenderness, as he had 1 aroused her with his wrath. And then and there, in tho mountain solitude, witnessed only by lonely height ami lonely wood and lonely earth and sky, ho made her make one solemn prom ’>l*. Not the promise that his heatt burn ed to have her make. For what he wished so ardently, that nothing "he fore or after " could compare in ardor w ith that hour's wish, was to make her promise to In' his wife. lie reminded himself that he had no tight to do this, lie warn a young fellow not yet gradu ated from college; and after his senior year, just commenced, there lay before him a course of professional study, and then (he establishing of hi- profession's practice, for his patrimony was by no means commensurate with his wants. He had no right to ask her yet. lie only made her grant a promise formed disinterestedly and ex 'n-ively for her good. Hy this time the sun had set. Shad ows mingled with shadows. The air gathered that strange pure cool which seems to blend and at the same instant deline the precious woodland scents, Tue soft rustic of leaves, the twitter of sleepy birds, the faint crashing sough of “the long rank bent" as they enter ed tiie fields, the infinitesimal fine yet clear sounds of the summer night rasped not unmusically hy the liny sharp cries and healing limn of the in sect world these were the vocal ac companiments of the homeward way , for Kedoletle and NVillie hardly spoke. Clasping each other's hands they went down the rocky steeps, and across the meadows home. \nd at the garden gate he kissed her “good-night" and kissed her "good hy," for on the morn w he was to leave the mountain farm, and she would not see him again. Kedoletle lingered in the porch some time before she entered (he house. She watched W illie’s figure pass down the road, and disappearat the river turni then she thought and thought. And when she went into the lighted room where Judge limit sat in his arm-chair reading the evening i cwv. Aunt Khoda, looking up from her needle work to greet the child w ith some reproof for slaying so late, let reproach die on her lips. Such a strange new look was nil Kedolelte's face ! " She never was the same girl," her aunt said, long afterward, when this evening was remembered as par! of the story of a life "never the same girl after that walk to HIo, k Height. Hut I never see her " (Aunt Uhoda's gram mar had grow n rusty with her drudging life)—" I never saw her look so beauti ful and so prond-like as she did when tlic Judge gut up from the chu ir and was agoiu' to give her a kiss, She drew hack her head like a ipiccii, and just pul out her hand for his lips: and he -talc'd at her, astonished, a moment, and then kissed her finger-tips. ‘ Kcd olelte,' said he,' you've been imprudent; you've got chilled through, your hand i- as mid as ice.’ That was Just, all he thought, about it, but woman is more keen; and I says to myself, that very minnil, ‘ Ye.-, she's caught a chill, and she's caught a fever; the fever may last or it may not, but the chill she's caught 'll las! her the rest of her life.' " There comes into almost every ex perience a night that, for its very dis tinction of darkness and gloom and blinding bight, i- counted ever after ward as " the night,” Such a night came to Kedoletle. It was the hour that Willie had anticipat ed when he made her make a .solemn promise " for her good." A night, of storm, of wild w ind and drenching rain. Hut wind and rain seemed (ceble elements in comparison with the cruel anger, the passionate up braiding, and pitiless threats that form ed the actual dark pre-eminence of the eventful night. I hie bright seem; stood out in relief against the stormy background—the opening of a door in answer to a faint, despairing knock; a beaming home room, warm with (ire-light and gay with cheerful lamps; kind faces, kind voices, sympathy, encouragement, help. So every dark night—even the daikesl has its friend. Hefure morning dawned Kedoletle, urged with all the gentle and firm aid of which she had need, was speeded forth on a journey that "as to east into a higher plan her whole future life. Hy the time night had glimmered iutoday Kedoletle had made her escape. Examination week at the famous girl-' school of N had reached its dosing act. Compositions were to he rea I in the afternoon; prizes were to he awarded; and at evening a collation would he spread at half bast ten in the 11< >t spacious but particularly attractive grounds of the N seminary, to end in garden-party style, with hand of music and a merry dance, the arduous exercises of the week. Intense interest gathered about this closing afternoon. Indeed, when one considers how small a part of the great world the female seminary of N , with all it' fame, actually was, it was wonderful how intense this interest be came. One would say, who happened to peep into the greenroom of the com position-readers, w aiting with cold fright or with hectic agitation, each for iier turn to be called upon the stage, that the result of this evening would he I something momentous enough to cause nil aberration in I Hi' course of our plan jet, or, at the verx least, a trembling in its (inward 'tcp. This impression would not have been lessened hy reading the titles of the 1 compositions "Woman of our t'en tiny," "The Dead Hast burying its Dead;" " Hie Future of the American Kepnbhe" a very line thing, and win 1 tier of the first prize; “Spiritual Ten dencies of \slronomieal Keseareh;" "Darwin's Development Theory con fronted with H'gvle’s Deign of Law;" " 1- Dennis Hereditary, and if so, from the Halernal or the Maternal Suit'? with Statistics from Dalton, carefully com piled." and so (Mi, and so forth. Very simply, aflet tins array, came the announcement given hy the princi pal of the seminar; " A Mountain Hrook," hy Miss K. Kane. ('losing exercises had been lengthened beyond their lived lime, and daylight was departing as Mi- Kam' made her appearance from the greenroom, com position in hand. A side window had to he open( and to give sulVteienl light, and through this opening came a rosy glow that almost atoned tor tin' lack of iloral tributes such as had overwhelmed the entrance of every other reader. Not a single Mower was thrown to w elcome the coining of Miss K. Kane. "A friendless girl," many of (he audience thought. Hut no one in the world is a friendlc-s girl, so the -nddenly opened window said: for I lie sunset glow poured in and enshrined her feel, and illnmin i'd her garments, ami crowned her voting head with Mowers of light. \nd in a timid hut clear voice the composition was read. " \ Mountain Hrook," not scientific or erudite, hut a (heme of action, and taking as a simile of a useful life the trite figure of a river heai ing from its rocky solitude, through wood and through field of grain, and over mill-wheel and hy the town, its ever augmenting stream of refreshing and compelling force. The trite comparison was treated with a novel grace. And one thing was quite remarkable about the composi tion a description of (he scenery in which the Mountain Hrook was suppos ed In receive from high authority its mission through the thirsting earth. This description was so vividly accurate (luit any one familiar with a certain mountain locality would have recog nized at mice that the “ Hrook" sprang to light under the fern fanned cavern of Hlock Height, No one among the audience, however, was familiar with tHut particular nook of upland scenery. No one, excepting a handsome young man who had drawn to himself during the afternoon tin; shyly admiring glances of very many of the girls. He had been restless, like the watchci who impatiently awaits the striking iji'the hour. When Miss Kami entered lie liccatm* still and satisfied, like the watcher when the hour has struck. " Kedoletle! She has fulfilled her promise." These two unspoken sentences ex pressed the mental impression, com plete. For to this young man, through the live years, including his Senior Year at college, his law study, his energetic establishment of law oraclice, “ Kcdo h'lte" had Imo ii the embodiment of all that is -weetcsl in a girl. Aial "she has fn I filled her promise,” referred not so much to the fact that this sweetest girl had kepi her word to him as that she had kept her word to Time kepi the promise of the lovely child to In the loveliest woman. " Kedoletle!" said Willie. They had entered one of the arbors that had been improvised of cedars to adorn the garden tele. They hail been walking arm and arm through the grounds for a long time; for one of the earliest guests of the ovening had heen Willie 1/ockc, and he had rushed inline dialely to Kedolelte’sside, and had kept her to himself all the ' vetting. They chose to walk in the garden rather than join in the dance, for theV had so much to ray. And they had talked over their five years of separation and its leading events before (bey went into the arbor to test. The last thing K'-dolettee had said in the walk was, “Si now, Willie, thanks to the inspiring leader of toy choice, f am ready to lake some part in the movement of my time. My schooling here is ended. My little inheritance is made secure. lam my own mistress now. I should like, if possible, to do a little good in the world; and the only question with me now is. ■ Mow shall f no it best ?’ ” And here it was that Willie with a sudden movement drew her into the arbor, and said, with such an electric vibration in hi-voice as made her heart seem for an instant to stop to beat, " Kedoletle!" Something so far beyond the simple name was implied by Ins vital utter ance of it that she made no response. “ Since I wir- happy,” lie said, "to guide you aright once, let me he your guide again. Let me tell you, Redo lette, my angel, my queen, how yon can do the most good in the world how I am sure yon can do the most good —” |{e paused, and Kedoletle,whose; eyes had been tremulously oast down, lifted her glance to his. Am! before she had lime to really | look, to see all ho mount hoforo sho had timo to lot (ho question. "llmv?" pass hor hoautifnl rod lips, ho had soi/- 10l hor in his strong arms, ho hail an swered hor at onoo and forever; | "As mil irih Humor. It shall ho written on A. Hewitt’s | tomhstono "lloro lios tho man whom everybody kiokod.” Ilnftahi Kijuvss. A lawyor, who wanted a postpone ment, appealed to the Judge to “let tho broad a\o of justice ho swung hy tho hand of moroy.” It was swung, t'ats can't livo at a groutor olovalion than Id.tHH' feet ahovo tin* level of tin' soa; hut (hoy tinivo splendidly on a ridgo-polo. Hoicvsfir /Vow. Now York ami St. Louis Join ('hioago in a wild shrink for tho Motl'ot hell punch Tho idoa is, wo snpposo, to make drinking tho duty of ovory putri olio man. ItufUihi Frprrss. A ministor did a wedding ceremony ‘‘up brown" tho othor da\ whon ho marriod Mr, l>avid I Hrown, a hrown hairod man, olothod in hrown suiting, to Miss Minnio Hrown, u brown-eyed maidon, likewise dressed in hrow n. I'ho following is u San Kranoisoo ad M'rlisomont "t’orrospondonoo is so lioitod from hourdod ladios, (‘iroassiuns. or othor fomalo ouriositios, who, in ro turn for a lino hoart and dovolod hns hand. would Iravol during (ho summer months, and allow him to tako tho money at tho door." V mothor whoso orving infant mado Hi o si'nnon of hor pastor almost inan ihhlo, was going from tho hull, whon tho clergyman spoko up, saying: "My good woman, don't go away. Thohahy doosn'l distnrh mo." "It isn't for dial I loavo, sir," was tho reply, “ It's you that distnrhs tho Irnhy." Mr. Sanmol 1,. t’lomons and his fami ly aro going to (iormany on (ho lllh of April for a slay of two years. Lot Mark Twain romomhor Longfollow and W hittier and Holmes, and not go hooping it up “ too rough " on Kasior W illiam and Hisntarokand VonMoltke. They do those things difierently in I iormany, yon know . Ilinliiii)tiiii llnuk - (‘I/O. A i onnsylvania paper says that sev eral persons who had pleaded that they couldn't pay their honest debts,hooauso as I hoy sa id. they lost their nionoy in the Minors’ Trust Hank, felt very ohoap w hen tho list of creditors was published and their names did not appear. Little snoh (loudly): "Whose 'orses are those, mv man?” Swell groom (who does not approve of liberties); ‘‘Yours, sir." L. S.: "Mine! wot d'ver mean?" tirooin; "Why, sir, if I'm your man these must ho your 'ossos. (Collapse of liltlosnoh.) I.onilun Fuu. A Now Jersey editor is in lin k. Ile eently a neighbor presented him with a side of pork and twenty yards of sau sage, and the next day Ids wife dislo oaleil her Jaw w hile yawning, and was unable to sa\ a word. A much more cheerful lone is now discernible in his editorials, and Ins face always wears a radiant onile, Snikes says he has thought over it a good deal, and he wonders if the curi ous phenomena have been generally observed that, to day was to-morrow ye -lerday, and yesterday yesterday was today. Tomorrow today is to-mor row, but tomorrow to morrow is day after to iinn row to-day. Yesterday to morrow is to-day, and yesterday to-day, w ill be day before yesterday to-morrow, The day after tomorrow to-day will be to morrow to morrow, and to-morrow to day w ill be to-day to-morrow, \ Very Interesting Case, now being successfully treated at Dr. I'otid's Cancer Institute at Aurora, 111,,, is that of Mr. Hamitel Waters, of Lin coin, 111. A year ago last October a small lump made its appearance on Mr. Waters’ left cheek; this lump (level oped under the erroneous treatment of the local physicians into a virulent can cer, and, up to the time he came to Dr, I’ond about the middle of January - he had bad Im lumps taken from his cheek. Such was the poisonous nature of the cancer that the entire side of his face was covered and his left eye closed. Now. the cancer is removed, the eye is free, the vision unimpaired, and a healthy growth of llesh has set in. All this has been accomplished, Mr. Wa ters says, without one tenth of the pain In' had millered under his previous treatment, and he wishes many limes he had come to Dr. I’ond sooner. WIIAT h Foiitink?—What does thou mean by fortune? If mere chance, then to envy the lot of others, or mur mur at thine, own, is folly; if i'rovi dence, then it is impiety; for whatever goodness, guided by unerring wisdom, doth, must be so well done that it can not be mended; and whatever is merely in the power <>f a blind, giddy and in constant humor (which is the notion by which men choose to express fortune), can neither lie prevented, fixed or reg ulated. NO. 33.