Marshall County Democrat., June 26, 1856, Image 1

About Marshall County Democrat. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1855-1859

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MAESIA
NTY
TOlCMTMT
iJ'lUlVivJ'M J. e
J J
THE BLESSINGS OF GOVERNMENT. LIKE THE DEWS OF HEAVEN, SHOULD FALL ALIKE UPON THE RICH AND THE POOR- JACKSON.
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VOL. 1,
gnsintss Hitfttorg.
Ii ;fl:lllK.UJU WAJ.llvvs
, .
MRIJSHLD ETFXV THCR3DAT MOJIMXG, BY
T. McDONALD, and H. B. DICKSON.
T E Ii M S :
If paid in advance,
At the end of six months,
It delayed until the end of the year
ADVERTISING:
One square (ten lines or less,) three week.
.1 50
..2 00
.2 50
1 00
Each additional insertion,
J Column three months,
.. 8 00
...12 00
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..15 00
..25 00
,..14 00
,..24 00
. .45 00
of one
Column one vcar,. . .
V. Column three months,
Column six months,
'?, Column one year,
1 " Column three months,
1 Column six months,
1 Column one rear
Yearly advertisers have the privilege
change free of charge.
()c Democrat o(j Office!
Our Job Department is now supplied with an ex
tensive and well selected assortment of new styles
plain and fancy
Which enables us to execute, on short notice and
reasonable term.-, kinds of Plain and Ornamen-
JOB PRINTING!
NEAT, FAST AND CHEAP;
SUCH AS
CIRCULARS,
HANDBILLS,
LABELS,
CATALOGUES,
PAMniLETS,
business cards,
blank deeds
mortgages;
And in short, Blanks of every variety and descrip
tion. Call and sec specimens.
J Plymouth banneüTTiy w. j. rxntxs,
riyni mth, Ind.
ROWXLEE & SHIRLEY, DEALERS IN
Drv Goods and Groceries, first door east ot
Michigan street, Plymouth, Ind
BROOK k EYÄXSlniÄ LEPSIN DRY
Goods and Groceries, corner Michigan and
La Porte streets, Plymout!), Ind.
C PALMER, DEALER IN DRY GOODS &
Gnieries, soutli corner La Porte an 1 Mich
igan streets, Plymouth, lad.
OGLES V.V. II k Co.. DEALERS IN
S Dry Goods & Groceries, lirr.-k Store Mich
igan street, Plymouth, Ind
-A RS. DUNHAM, MILLINER & MANTUA
iVL Mikcr,
.Pivmouth, lud.
B
MOWN & BAXTER, DEALERS IN
Stoves, Tinware, kc, Plymouth, lud.
HR. PERSUING & Co., DEALERS IN
Drugs and Medicines,. . .Plymouth,' lud.
A
DAM VINN EDGE, WHOLESALE
and Retail Grocer, Plymouth, hid.
W
M. L. TIATT, MANUFACTURER OF
Cabinet Ware, Plymouth, Ind.
S
LUYTER & FRANCIS, HOUSE CARPEN-
torivt Joiners, 1 Iymouth, In I.
W W- MITIL JUSTICE OF THE TEACE,
JV3, Vv'est side Michigan et., Plymouth, Ind.
TZlOTT &c".M A N U FACTUK EÜS OF
Jjj Wajron C ir: i. tires ic Plows, Plymouth, Ind.
c
10LLINS & .NU'IIOLS MANUUACTUR-
ers of Sash kc Pivmvjrh, Ind.
JOHN D. ARMSTRONG, BLACKSMITH,;
south of the B.i !ge, Plymouth, Ind.
Brj7Bi:NTS, BLACKSM ITI I,
Plymouth, InI.
4icrmuGGs, ijiTacksm IT if,
Pi mouth, Ind,
I 71 DWA RDS' iToTEL, B Y W.C. EDWARDS,
2j Plymouth, lud.
4 C. CAPRON, ATTORNEY I
ZjL selor at Law, Plymouth,
COUN-
Inl.
c
HAS. IL REEVE, ATTORNEY AT LAW
i Notary Public, Plymouth, Ind.
GRACE CORBiN, ATTORNEY AT LAW
Pivmouth, lud.
TliL'GUS ATTORNEY AT LAW
Pivmouth, Ind.
c,
S
ri AML. B. CORBALEY, NOTARY PUBLIC,
I lvm )i!th, Ind.
BROWN, GENERAL LAND AGENT
Pivmouth, Ind.
rfIIEO. A. LEMON, PHYSICIAN, SUR
I. GEON t Drui,t, ..Plymouth, Ind.
R
UFUS BROWN, PHYSICIAN & SUR
GEON, Plymouth, Ind.
SHIGGINBOTHAM, PHYSICIAN & SUR
. GEON, Plymouth, lud.
J W. KENNET, PI1YSI
GEON, Ply
HYICIANSUU-
mouth, Ind.
K LINGER & BRO. DEALERS IN LUMBI
etc,. Plymou th, Ind
II
E N It Y P I E R C E , DEALER IN CLO
thiirr & Furnishin Gumls, Plymouth, Ind.
A
USTIN FULLER, MANUFACTURER
And dealer in Flour Tlymouth, Ind.
II
EXRY M. LOGAN & Co., DEALERS IN
Lumber, kc Pivmouth, Ind.
J
OSEPII POTPER, SADDLE k HARNESS
Maker, Plymouth, Ind.
A
MERICAN HOUSE, G. P. CHERRY k
Son, Proprietors, Plymouth, Ind.
B
AR BERING AND IIAIRDRESSING, BY
Alfred Billows, Plymouth, Ind.
JE. WESTERVELT Ä; Co.. DEALERS IN
Dry GockI.? i Groceries, . . .Plymouth, Ind.
1 LEAVE LAND k HEWETT, DEALERS
in Dry Goods, etc., Plymouth, Ind.
" II. CASE, J TjSTIC EoF TI I E P E A C E ,
Plymouth, Ind.
SALOON, BY S- EDWARDS,
Pivmouth, Ind.
R. J. J. VINALL, IIOMEOPATHIST,
Office over Palmer's store, Plymouth, Ind.
HUME, HARNESS MAKER,
Til iL
I lymouui, . jnu.
JWESTBRVELT & Co., MANUFACTU-
rtra of Lumber, Plymouth, Ind.
w
M. RUDD, MANUFACTURER OF
Boots and Shoeü, Plymouth, Ind.
A
C, STALKY, MANUFACTURER AND
dealer in Boots & Shoes, Plymouth, Ind.
I VERY STABLE, BY SILAS TIDIUTS,
Washington street, rijmouth, Ind.
I' IVERY STABLE, BY Wm. M. PATTER
SON Plyaa?nth, Ind.
PUP IT TiVU I i
Ill
gflcctcir Jjottrg.
Sparking Sunday Night.
Sitting in the corner,
On a Sunday eve,
With a taper finder
Resting on your sleeve;
Star-like eyes are casting
On jour face their lights,
Bless me, this 13 pleasant
Sparking Sunday night!
How your heart is thumping
'Gainst vour Sunday vest
How wickedly 'tis working,
On this d;y of res;
Hours seem but minutes,
As they take their flight;
Bless me ! ain't it pleasant
Sparking Sunday night?
Dad and Mam arc sleeping
On their peaceful bed,
Dreaming of the many things,
The folks in meeting said:
"Love ve one another!"
Ministers recite;
Bless me! don't we do it
Sparking Sunday night?
One arm with gentle pressure
Lingers round her waiit,
You squeeze her dimpled hand,
Her pouting lips you taste,
She freely slaps your face,
But more in love than spite;
Oh! thunder! ain't it pleasant
Sparking Sunday night?
But hark! the clock is striking
It is two o'clock; I snum!
As sure as I'm a sinner,
The time to go has come;
You ask with spiteful accents,
If "that old clock is right,"
And wonder if it ever
Sparked on Sunday night?
One. two, three sweet kisses,
Four, five six you hook
But thinking that you rob her,
Give back those you took;
Then as for home vou hurrv,
From the fair one's sight;
Don't you wish eaHiday was
Only Sunday night!
Foctic Imagery.
Tliouglitjs the Spirit's lightning", sent
To cleanse the murky night of time;
It falls, and lo! the hills are rent,
And burst the hoary walls of crime.
One Thinker, fresh from Gad, goes forth,
And, like a sower sent to sow,
He scatters whirlwinds o'er the earth,
But in his path white lillics grow.
One thinker, bold, and strong, and true,
Inspired from God in heart and tongue,
Shall make Earth's day-stir chant anew
The str tin that flve locr E Ion young.
E'en now the world in anguish cries
To know those central laws that run
From Heaven to Earth, and unitize
Love, Wisdom, Uses three in one;
The Wisdom that shall reconcile
Impulse with Duty, throw the light
Of boundless ray o'er both, and Fmile
On Man accordant with the Right.
And Heaven in love on Earth looks down,
And even now prepares to bless
The Mind with Wisdom's burning crown,
The soul with Love's own boundlessness.
In measures, fed from inward springs
Of cheerful hope for Earth and Man,
A viewless Angel sits and sinc;s
O'er the blue Heaven's effulgent span.
That Angel's thoughts, descending low,
In unseen throngs, to all men fly,
And utter, tuneful, ns thfy flow,
Tie Gospel of Humanity!
CT
From Graham's Matnzine.
AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY
OF A
COUNTRY GTBL.
BY CLARA AUGUSTA.
Will you cast down my humble history
when I tell you that in my youth, as well
as in my age, I was plain, hopelessly plain.
My profuse dark hair was my only charm.
My face was thin, almost to emaciation,
and of a sallow unhealtliiness. My eyes
were unnaturally large, and my lips were
pale and colorless.
My health was bad, and my mind was
always in a low state. I was sensitive al
most to folly, and I shrank from strangers
with that instinctive horror, which even
now thrills me at the touch of an unknown
hand.
I was an orphan, lonely and alone; I
lived with a maiden aunt, in the dark
depths of a pine forest, near Blackwater.
The influences which surrounded my
childhood were cold and chilling, unfa
vorable to the development of my social
or intellectual faculties. My aunt was kind
to me, that i, ehe gave mo food and clothes
and carte blanche, as to the disposal of my
time.
The library at PinForest was very lim
iled, a Bible, prayer bopk, a few ancient
histories, and an tld romance', which I had
read and rc-rcad (intil every' word was im
pressed upon my memory.. It told of many
characters, but I passed them all over to
think of one noble, dignified, and godlike.
I loved that character. I worshipped an
ideal. I eared not whether the form
and fice were handsome or tiglv; it was
the noble attrtbutes of the soul which I
loved.
Of mere sexual love I knew nothing;
until I had reached my eighteenth year,
I had never had even a boy playmate.
To school I had never been; my aunt had
taught me to read and write, and some of
the more ordinary female accomplish
ments. But anew chimera penetrated my aunt's
brain. A stray newspaper came to Pine
Forest, and in its columns was the adver
tisement of a female stminary, which was
to be opened for young ladies, at Lands
down, in n short time.
To this school my aunt was resolved to
send me, I felt no delight at the intelli
gence. Study was distasteful to me. I liked
better to ro out on the bare hills when the
storm demon was abroad in his raging, and
baring my dark brow to the wild winds,'
cast my restless eyes out into the deep
gloom, or, raising my face up to heaven,
gaze unshrinkingly on the red lightnings
which were vomited from the cloud's black
bosoms.
But aunt said I must go to school, and
when I openly demurred, she told me of
the many wonderful things I should learn,
and the interesting objects 1 would see; aud
I strove to curb my wild will in obedience
to her wish.
Two months passed rapidly away in
preparation; my clothes were ready packed
in aunt's great black trunk, and, accompan
ied by our farm servant, I was sent to
Landsdowne. Jacob engaged a boarding
place f jr me, in a family of wealth and res
pectability, and then lie returned to Black
water. "Words cannot describe to you the heart
loneliness I felt that first night. Alone, I
sat by my little window, which looked out
upon a tall, dark church, and a dismal
"rave vard, with its white tombstones
rleaminir in the "histlv moonlight. I loved
the view. It was more in accordance wiih
my own dark feelings than the cheerful in
terior of my pretty chamber. All was
light and pleasant there. The large solar
lamp sent its silver light over the crimson
couch hangings, and illuminated the wall-1
no
paper until the room scmcd a garden of
living flow ers. But I liked not cheerful -
ucss. Wh it ri -lit had I to be bright and
? Was I ii .t a w aif on the fair earth?
There was no one in the w ide world to love
me; would any one weep w hen I should be
laid away in the death-mould? I asked the
question with bitterness. No, there were
none to love me! I laid my head on the
window-sill, and clasped my hands over
my eyes.
When I awoke the sun was shining warm
ly over my disordered hair, and the little
robins and s-parrowa were singing pleasant
ly in the churchyard treos. I roused my
self, and making a hasty toilet, descended
to the breakfast-room. The family had al-
ready assembled. There was a row of!
strango faces a the table; young gentle
men and ladies who, like myself, were to
attend the school. 1 fancied they were lid-
iculing me, aud 1 doubt not they w ere, for
one of the 3 oung men repeated a few words
in an unknown language, looking at me all
the while, at which they all laughed heart
ily, ad turned their great prying eyes cu-
rwt it
riousiy upon me. ine young ladies evi
dently not regarding me in the "ight of a
rival in the young men's afi'ectious, joined
with them in the general attempt of quiz
zing me.
I bore this as long as I could, and then
from the depts of my fierce, wild heart
there welled up a few bitter, wiithing words
and I spoke them. The surprised company
were silenced, but occasionally thov cast
looks of covert scorn toward me. After
breakfast they spoke no encouraging friend
ly word to me, but conversd apart, in
groups, and I knew that I was their sub
ject, by the glances which they bestowed
upon my shrinking, sensitive form.
To one of my nature, this treatment was
galling in the extreme, and I made up my
mind to hate them all. Even the Hale girl,
the daughter of the people who kept the
boarding house, seemed to take exquishc
delight in torturing me, asking me spiteful
questions about my dress, contemplated
studies, etc.,
Alone, 1 went to the academy. No one
offered to go with me, no one told me which
way to go, they only set up a derisive laugh
as I put on the green silk bonnet, which t
had cost my aunt and the village milliner a
week's work to remodel from aunt's old
calash.
I knew where the academy was situated.
I had passed it on my way the previous
day. It was a largo white building with
carved columns and shady porticoes, in
the middle of a green lawn, gemmed here
and there with a tuft of the purple frost
flower. The green in front of the edilico
was thronged with young gentlemen and
ladies, gay and laughing. Was it any
wonder that a wild, forest bred girl like
me, who had scarcely seen a dozen faces
out of her own family circle, should shrink
from the curiou3 Mare which, n every fide
PLYMOUTH, IND. JUNE 26, 1856.
assailed her? Sick at heart, I leaned against
a shade-tree for support.
Only one in all that merry company un
derstood my feelings. Heaven bless her,
wherever she may be! She was a lame
girl, a little younger than myself, with a
pale, sweet fi.ee, and a gentle, pitying
voice. S1k came hastily toward me, laid
her small hand on my arm, and looking in
to my face, with one of her soul-full glances
she said timid.y, 'Pardon me, but you
seem to be a stranger here; are you going
to attend the school?' I could have fall
en down and worshipped her for the first
kind words which had greeted my ear
since my arrival in Landsdowne. She bade
me follow her to the dressing-room, and
there she took off my bonnet and shawl,
and conducted me to the hall, where she
showed me a seat where I could sit until
Professor Montcalm should arrive and as
sign me one.
O
There I sat in trembling suspense, wait
in " for the ureal bell to sound the signal of
commencement. It rang out, at last, loud
and clear. There was a hurried rushing
of the young ladies for their seats, then a
stillness, broken only by an occasional
whisper, and then steps in the w ide passage
announced the coming of the Principal. I
did not raise ray head to look at htm, even
when I heard his deep sweet voice calling
each young lady to come up separately, that
he might register her name, and purposed
course of studies.
One by one, they went to him. I alone
could not gather courage to look at him. ,
How could I rise and walk across that long
hall alone, a mark fo:- all tlioso cuiious
gazers? There was a silence during which
I felt the eyes of all upon me. The tears
started to my eyes, I could not restrain
them, and in shame and agony I dropped
my head upon the arm of the settee.
There was a souad of confused buz
zing in
the room, but over all, rosa 1
that firm, stately tread which approached
me. It paused at my side. Willi a sud
den impulse, I raised my head, and looked
at the face of him beside mo. It was Prof.
Montcalm. I knew it by his regal form, his
hi'rh serene bro .r, and his unconscious dig-
jo &
j ujjy cf manner.
J He bent his calm dark eves upon mvdis-
torted face for a moment, and then stepping
so that his f rm concealed me from tlw list- j
ening pupils, he said, in his low winning!
VolCC-
Is it your intention to become a member
of my shool, young stranger?'
Yes,' I faltered out between my stifled
I -
sobs.
Your name, if you please;' said the same
musical voice;
'Genevieve Fairfield,' I returned.
lie wrote the name. 'What studies, Miss
fail-field?'
I replied, by handing him the letter
which mv aunt had written concerning mv
projected course, and with newly inspir-
ed confidence, I watched him while he read
it.
Every feature of his face is before me
now, I can see the forehead w here majestic
benignity reigned peacefully w iih powciful
intellect the wild, rich hair, thrown care
lessly over the classic head, the calm, deep
eyes, the straight Grecian nose the mouth
half stern, half tender. Yes, I can see
Howard Montcalm as he stood before me,
years and years ago.
He gave me a written programme of my
studies, the hours of recitation all correct,
and then with a smile which lighted up his
face like the sunshine of heaven, he turn
ed away as he said, 'You must try and be
contented with us, Miss Fairfield; home
sickness will, I am afraid, interfere with
your progress and make you uuhapp'.
Mr. Monlcalm sat down on the raised
platform, and tlx.n in regular rotation the
different classes were called. I went with
fear and trembling. I had never been at
school before in my life, and well I knew
my deficiency. Very kindly he questioned
me, but of course, I could answer nothing.
He dismissed the class and called me to his
dck. He enquired into the system of my
education, and I frankly told him my little
history, how that I had lived all my life in
an isolated spot, and that my aunt had been
my only tutor.
Prof. Monlcalm considered for a moment
and then told me that I might study and
recite separately from the others, aficr tho
school had closed at night. Aud more, he
said that if I was, as he feared, a little sen
sitive, I might study out of school if I chose.
Oh how my hcul blessed him for Ins kind
words.
I took tho books which he selected for
me, and going to my boarding place, I wont
up into my little chamber, and bent my
whole soul upon the task of learning the
lesson which At had marked.
It was hard, oh so hard, 'to keep from
flinging down tho book, and running into
the wild dark cemetery; but I thought of
those berioiis eyes which 1 knew would wear
a giieved expression, if in my lebson I
should be deficient, and resolutely I toiled
on.
The dinner bell sounded, and as a mere
form, to avoid being questioned, I forced
myself to eat. As soon a I had finished, I
returned to mytudies. I read .and pon
dered. At last I gave a glad shout! I,could
recite every word correctly.
Again and aga"in, did I repeat the mon
otous phrases and when the bell lung for
the close of study hours, I tied on my des
pised bonnet aud set off for the Academy.
School was out, but Prof. Montcalm was
waiting forme. .
I gave him the book, it was Andrew's
Latin Grammar. Ha asked the questions, I
answered all correctly. " -4.
A surprised, pleased expression parsed
over Mor.tcalm's fine face.
You have done well, Misa Fairfield,' he
said in a decisive tone, as he returned me
the book with the next lesson marked.
'Perseverance and application, my young
friend, will place you in the highest ranks
of literature.' II i took up his hat and went
out.
Oh! how I prized that commendation
coming from his lips! I need not particular
ize. Days and weeks passed much the
same as I have already described. I pro
gressed rapidly. I had outstripped the
junior class, and was fast approaching the
senior.
Mr. Montcalm praised me, encouraged
me, spoke kindly to me. Laura Gray, my
first acquaintance, the lame girl, was gen
tle and friendly towards me, but further
than this, I had neither friends noracquaint-
anct-s
My fellow-boarders still preserved to
wards me the same constrained and half
patronizing, half-ridiculous air, but for
that I cared not. His kind word was
enough.
My love fr music had always amounted
to a passion, and if 1 was very sad, or if
through the dark vail which shrouded my
0,v-; jf0 there came a skv of sunshine, I
would improvistore some wild thrilling
harmony. It w as a power which the soar
ing winds, the surging pines, the gushing
rivers had given me, and it soothed me
u-lnn inv truil ri! nriirflrtivinnr
One evening when I came to ncite, Prof.
-,r . i 1 1 i 1 1
Montcalm had gone to the lower hall for a
consultation with the assistant teacher, and
I sat down in the great lonelv hall to await
n;3 rt tarn. One of my sad strange moxls
camo over me and I sung. I forgot that I
1 1, 1 1 iv 1 i t i
! might be overheard and ridiculed. I onlv
; remembered that I was sad and I sun" un-
I
til the great load of heaviness was raised
from lny Soul. As the last wild echo diid
! .111
away in tue still arcnes, .uontcaim came in
r.t the open door. He appeared agitated,
ppeareu aguaieu,
but he heard my lesson through and then
as 1 m 11:1 :ucu me ine uoo nc tau, paruon
. 1. . 1 1 .,1 .1. 1 1. 1. - 1 . .1
me, iUiss rairnciu, 11 1 enquire w nere you
received your musical culture?'
An overwhelming sense of shame came
over me, that he, whose good opinion I
valued more than that of the whole world,
should have heard mv wild heart outush
ings, and I buried my face in my hands and
wept bitterly.
Montcalm understood me. He set down
beside mo, and said earnestly, 'listen tome,
Miss FairfiVId, I meant not to wound your
feelings. You are too sensitive for this!
rough world of trial. But what I would say
to you is this, you have a voice more pow
erful than any I have ever heard. It has
moved me in a manner in which I am sel
dom moved. Now I would propose that
you enter the class of Herr Von Getchcn
burg, ho is a superior vocalist and an un
rivaled instructor. Will you consent, Miss
Fairfield?'
His eyes met mine. I bowed mv head,
and it was arranged that I should become a
pupil of Herr Von Gctchenburg.
I was admitted to his class in a few days
and I received his teachings; he said I was
possessed of the most thrilling voice he had
ever trained. I 6trove bard to learn and I
succeeded.
In twelve months. Von Gretchenburg
offered me an almost incrcdiblo sura if I
would accompany him in a toui over the
country, 1:1 the capacity of a public singer.
I refused. I yould not tear myself away
from the plaeewherc Montcalm breathed.
Do vou ask if I loved Howard Montcalm?
Love' 'twas an unknown word to me. 1
felt not toward him as I felt to others, I loved
him not a3 woman loves man, I worship
ped him as tho Christian worship's his
God!
The term of my continuance at school
was fast drawing to a close. In one short
week I was to go to ray dreary home, and
see him, in the light of whose smile I had
lived for twoycais, no more.
My situation in the family whore I had
boarded was much the same as at first, I
had made no friends, nor had I wished to,
and I thought of leaving thero without a
solitary regret.
The closing day came at last. There
was to boa grand examination in tho fgreat
hall of the Academy, and essays and com
positions of all kinds were to be read.
Tho holiday dresses were drawn out,
jewelry was borrowed, etay-bringa were
stretched to their utmost tension, and ' uight was dark av.d gloomy, and tho wind
rouge, and chalk-balls were in urgent de- moar.cd fitfully in the black forest. .1 ask
inaud. ed no questions; ray companion gave no
I had no fine clothes in which to appeal, ' explanation;. Arrived i the railroad k
so I wore the pale, straw-colored calico! pot, we stepped on board the night train
which had boen my church dress it; sum-; which was on the point cf leaving, and fjr
mer. Ornaments I had none, not even ai the space often hours we traveled without
ring or a pin, and my muslin collar was ; intermission. At last the traic stepped. It
fastened by n plain black ribbon. Excite- was nearly noon, and we vrero in the raiist
ment had lent a crimson blush to my wan of a great city. My companion handed nie
cheek, and my eyes were almost fearful in into a carriage and we were driven rapidly
their great brilliancy.
The time came for mo to read my essay.
It was the last exercise. I rose, my head
swam, I "saw but one face in all that as
sembly, and that face It strength
ened me. I read tfee composition; the sub
ject was 'Desolation.' I had thrown into
the essay all the wild energieof my lone-'
Iv soul, all the vainvearnings of mv deso
late heart, and I succeeded in what I had
desired. The audience which filjed that
vast hall sat spell-bound! The stillness of
the tomb was there! I finished and sat
down, no one moved; no one spoke. Pale
and still they sat, some in tear3, others
with cheeks white and drv. c
I looked at Montcalm, his head lay on
the desk before him, and his form quivered
with emotion. At length, the manager an
nounced the exercises at an end, and the
spectators departed, leaving Montcalm
alone with his pupils. In a few appropri
ate words he bade us farewell. Each one,
in passing out, took him by the hand, and
received from him some parting admoni
tion. I held back until the last. There
was a melancholy pleasure in being the !
last to say adieu to him whom we all loved. !
He took my hand. My whole frame
thrilled at his touch, all the life-long agonv ;
of my existence was pent in that moment!!
Mv r-ourage forsook me, my self-restraint
gave way, and 'Oh, God!' escaped my
lips.
We were alone; Montcalm liiit liia head !
until his breath played upon my cheek, and
his voice was broken and agitated as lie
said, Mi?s Fairfield Genie, do you love
me?'
II.. X . . 11.. - K I U n vwt A I w
v
. J . . , ,. , ,
I lam down at his feet and died, than ha
,
should have known it
I replied bitterly: 'Alas! was this blow
needed lo complete my utter wretchedness,
my great humiliation?'
Montcalm's face lighted up with ialer.se
, . , 0 ,
joy: he caught me to his breast. 'Dear-
est,-Genie,' he exclaimed, while his kiss-
cs rained upon my fice, Mud you do love
me, darling, you have loved me a Ion
time!'
j j , j . k j
, n 1 , c k t cv
1VM '--'- -' T m " ----- ,
, . ,1 t r c n nn
j C'A C V. il 111 IIMI I1IV1I11. Ill vl , in." j
VliV'"", . ,7, .
definable something, dreadful, and un -
known.
Oh, the bliss of sitting in the lonely old
hall, with the twilight shadows around U3,
while he told me in his low, thrilling voice,
all his love, his hopes all, all.
To me, dearest Genie,' he said, tender
ly, 'you were always beautiful, you were
woven m all my dreams of happiness, your
pale, sad face, as you raised it to mine on
that first morning of our meeting, has been
for two years ihe companion of my waking
and sleeping hours! Genie, I love you bet
ter than the whole world, letter than my
life, next to God. Will you lovo me thus,
darling?'
I told him w ithout reserve of all my lone
ly lif ., of the first beam of light which his
presence had brought, of my many weary
hours passed in toiling at my lessons, that
I might win a kind tone from him; leaning
on his noble heart, I told him all my life
lonr yearning to bo loved, and his calm
soul-lit eyes shed love and happiness upon
mo as he looked down with holy trust it to
mv face.
We parted. One long agonizing kiss I
pressed oh his lips, received with dread
his tender embrace, and murmured 'fare
well.' Howard Montcalm was a son of the
south, the possessor of a fine property in
a southern city, and thither he was to go,
bu. in two short months ho would return,
and take me away, his own.
I went back to mv lonely home at Black
water, lonely no longer, for my thoughts
all of him. I told no one the story cf our
love, it was tco hallowed, too sacred to be
6poken cf.
Two weeks rolled into tho silent past,
and I received a letter from him, such a
heart warming letter as only he could write.
I wept over that letter wept for very joy
that I, poor, plain and infeiior, had won
the love, had bocomo tho object of interest
to one so uoblo, 60 excellent as Howard
Montcalm.
Four days afwr the reception of that
blessed letter, at tho dead hour of midnight
there came a messenger to Blackwater. Ho
brought a note for mo which contained
theso words 'Genie, I am ill, como to
me.'
It was enough. I threw cn my clothes,
aud scarcely explaining anything to ray
, aunt, I sot forth with th messenger. The
:u i:tce uioueu cuui&oii v.un suuujc, iici,vet dre-im r.i ovo v.v.s over vou J M
NO. 33.
along. The streots through which we pass
ed, were silent and deserted. Nocairiug)
passing save black, gloomy hearses, and
the ghastly dead oart3, and I frit at once
that I was in a city of pestilence.
Our carriage stopped before an imposing
stone cdif.ee. I was assisted to alight and
with a feeling of suffocation I followed mr
guide up the marble steps to the great
gilded door. Ho turned the handla with
out ringing, and entered a gorgeously car
pe erhall. A broad Might of raiiegatcd
marble. steps led UDwards. Mr ruide mo
tionea rae to follow him and passed noise
lessly up. We arrived at the last landing,
he pushed open the mahogany door and
said, gently, 'She has come! then turning
he left me in a large apartment furnished hi
a style of Oriental splendor. In agoi
geouslv curtained alcove there was a low
couch. I sprang towards it. Great God!
there he lav, so fiightfullv changed that an
indifferent person would not have 1 cogniz
ed him my heart's idol! he wh. -m I loved
better than all the world. With a screnm
I caught him in my arms. I pressed my
lips to his cheek, I l;i-?d the damp sweat
from his forehead, and laid my ftce on hi?.
'Oh, Genie! poor, dear, lest Genie: '.' vr.ns all
that he said.
Then when he was r.-.ore composed, he
said, 'why did ycu com?, Genie. I was mad
to send for you, it is death fir von to stay
here; but, oh Genie! I ro longed to f.tl your
dear hand urjen my hot brow cuce more!
Ycu will die if you stay here, darling, v.i.h
this fjarful peatilsncs here, where I had
arranged evervthing f r you oh. G-i-ni,
. . t rrt
I mi
.waoui i.-.hv.u! u.i
I had chosen
c.Vos v:hiV- fr vou and now. I mat be
,(.uuim.d ui hu, ami u.o, 1
llaid in il
iC
ooid crave m-rawi
t fit
Oh God!
iou g0j; jre tircw down my head '
KS
Li
j bosom, and said in a f .:!- wl.i-p -r, 'C,
'. cst Gonou-ve, if h hr.l h-:e:i UU v.Y.
i rf-:r,;t,l o!;ve I wouM i.-.-.d
; 1 t""11-J ia- 0 4
j vclir lifc-journev pvous! I
V. ''Jet
i.av
j j.iuctej every thorn from y w r pathway,
j Bl,L v,tS not t3 t deärcif, r.:-d God
never decrees unjustly. Pi-
uv.z'i vv:.
iive'.v to
I Genie, that vou will bow sv.br.;
; .
He ward
V I i
i.jr--. uv.'.i:
I his strength v;.s was--l, r.:..t u.
1 h, , fcI;:,d j10w c:...-r :
was-; 1,
round him. As the r.tr.n :v.- !u t r.st.
he put hi.; treble an.i ah ,ut m:-, .nd r:iuv
mured, 'Mine ia Henven Ge:.i-'.' Thenn
col J calm settled over his face, ihe light
went cut in his eyes, his arms Iiy like a d
around me; I fell on his dead Ivsom, a:;d
for many veavs I was ns one unborn!
I am old now. My one j-.-tty hair is
whiie as December s:kw. My limbs are
palsied by age, my voice U freb'.e and b:o
ken. I am called an ell ma'd. T':o
Venn'' r-irls iu thvir rot-y bloom, a-k me
why It.ave Rovermanl-d, .-r.j-d saii'o at my
lonely eccentric lifj. -Ali my r drives are
h ing 'neath the valley c dr,, and 1 live
here alone in my giand, gloomy house, at
Blackwater.
I would not have it otherwise. God has
taught me to look to him alone for happi
ness. He took away my idol; but it was a:l
tight.
I feel that my earthly pilgrimage U al
most over; that 1 ehall soo:i pri through
tho Valley of Gloom into th? eternal sun
shine of I.'eaven. Howard awaits m
there, and I icck forward wiih blissful v--
ticipaticn, to tb: time when I shall Iod'h
into his eves by the cal:n, ruio lijrhi cf
Heaven.
Civil Liberty. Mn are qualified for
civil liberty in exact proportion to their
disposition to put moral chains upon their
own appetites, in proportion as their loo
to justice is above their capacity; in pro
portion as their soundness and tob:iety of
understanding is above their va.ii y and
presumption; in proportion as they sr
more disposed to listen to the eour-H? f i
the wise and good, in preference to tho
flattery of knaves Society cannot exist,
unless a conlrolsig power upon will and
appetite be placed somew here; and the-!c&
of it there i within, the mere there raus.
bo without. It i ordained in the eter; m!
constitution cf thing3, thai men of itvni
perale minds cannot te frf ; their pisicn.
foige their fetters.
Tho following is a very rppioprii c epi
taph upon an avaricbiis nu:i:
At vest beneath this stone
Lies stingy Jimmy Wyatt.
He did one morn at ten.
And fc-aved n dinner by it!
, 1 p. ... .
A child &ix years of a- i heard his fath
er praying the o.hcr mi;i:i; g f r t';.e good
time wht.1 'he 'swords ' b turned into
plowshare and spears iu'o pruaag hoolo?,
and enquiied innocently, "what will tha
Shupo'e rifles b tnim-d into, p.?
A-