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Marshall County independent. (Plymouth, Marshall County, Ind.) 1897-1902, December 24, 1897, Image 2

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn87056251/1897-12-24/ed-1/seq-2/

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Miss Dimsdale. in dismay. "Oh, I will
come at once. Dorothy, stay and talk
to David," she added, for Dorothy had
made a movement as if she. too. want
ed to go and hear more about Janet's
! I U s
V 1 Vs-. . w 1 I I , I I
' -J ffii ,,it f, t "-"-
L 3 m-WinT
CHAPTER IL Contimit d.i
In a moment the kitten, a little the
worse for wear and tear, was i at'ely in
3ier mistress' arms, and a great fuss
did she make over ir. In the midst of
it, Dik Alyaier, knowing that fat la
fretful horse W9i dancing about on
the other ride of the house, said good
fcj again and escaped. "And. by Jove!"
he said, as he tinned out of the gate?,
"she does not know my nam?' either.
I seem bound to be mysterious today,
somehow or or'-- r. Evidently she mis
tojk me aiies or, rather, she
mistook m f r th ! other in the mut
ter of names. Ali. well, she's goin;;
av ay tomorrow, and I don't suppose
3 shall see her again, Of that it matters
in the least whether she ealls me Har
ris, or Haines, or Alymer." and then
he added to the horse. "Get along, old
man. will you?"
He slackened : lie paee. however,
when he got to the turn of the road
which skirted the eloping meadow in
front cf the Hall where "she" lived,
and the horse crawled up the side of
the hill as if it had been an Alpine
Light instead of a Mere bend of the
read. But there was no sign of her.
As he pasted he caught a glimpse of
the gay tlowcr-bcds and a big tabby cat
walking leisureiy across he terrace,
but Doro,hy Strode was not to be seen,
and wlren Richard Aylmer recognized
that fact he gave a jerk to the reins
and sent the hope flying along in the
directior. of Colchester as fast as his
lour good bgs would tarry him.
said very little to
her aunt about the
gentleman who had
brought her home
from Lady Jane's
tennis party. Not
that she voluntar
ily kept anything
back, but in truth
there was very lit
tle for her to tell.
t '6i
rery little that she could tell. The
language jt love is an eloquent oue,
but when you are one of the principal
persons concerned you cannot give to
another the history of a pressure of
the hand or a look of the eyes, and still
less of a tone of the voice which tells
you all too eloquently of the state of
feelings which you cause in that other
Yet when Miss Dimsdale came home
from Colchester, having been fetched
from Wrabness Station in an ancient
victoria which had seen better day3,
drawn b a pair of cobs which, let
use mercifully hope, would never see
worse than they enjoyed in sleek com
fort at present, she dutifully ay. and
with pleasure -gave her an animated
description of the party. How Lady
Jane had Specialty asked for her am!
had sent her dear love to her; how
Berry she was. and everybody else, that
Miss Dimsdale had had to go and see
that tiresome lawyer on that particular
afternoon: how Lady Jane had told
her that her new while frock was ex
quisite, and that she ought always to
wear full sleeves because they became
her so well, and finally how there ha I
been one of the officers from Colchester
at the party and she had been his part
ner in several games of tennis, and
Anally that Lady Jane had sent him to
eee her safely to the gate. "Our gate.
1 mean. Auntie." said Dorothy, not
wishing to convey a false impression.
"And David Stevenson, he wasn't
there, I suppose?" said Miss Dims
dale, as she sipped her claret.
"No, Auntie, he wasn't," Dorothy
answered. "You see. Lady Jane does
not like David Stevenson very much."
"I know that," said Miss Diniadale
On the whole Miss Dimsdale would
have liknd Dorothy to marry David
ßtevenson, who was young and a good
enough fellow to make a good husband.
He had a well-kept valuable farm of
four hundred acres a mile or two from
iraveleigh, with a convenient and
spacious house thereon, of which he
was very anxious to make Dorothy
BQistresf. But Dorothy had, with a
strange perversity, said nay over and
over again, and she seemed in no desire
to change her mind now. Misa Dims
dale gave a sigh as she thought of it
for David Stevenson's mother had
teen her dearest friend -but all the
same, she was not the woman to try
to force the child's inclination.
"Mr. Harris asked me if he might
call if he might come and see me,"
said Dorothy presently, after a
"Mr. Harris! and who is Mr. Har
ris?" asked Miss Dimsdale. startled
out of a reverie about David Stev n
son's mother, who, by-the-bye, uncon
sciously and dear friend as she was of
Marion Dimsdale's, had stepped in and
married the man (if Mai ion s heart.
"Mr. Harris! He is the officer I
told you about. Auntie, the one who
brought me home." said Dorothy, in
surprise that her aunt should not re
member. "Oh, yes yes. And what did you
"I told him that I thought h
"And when?"
"Oh. I told him to take his Chance,"
Dorothy SBSWSrsd.
"Quite right." said Miss Dimsdale.
who had no notion of making the way
w, , wCTl
of a gallant too easy and plea?an! to
him. We!!, we shall see what he If
like when he comes, if we happen to
be at home."
She began then to tell Dorothy all
about in r day in Cob bester. What tin
lawyer had mid, how she had been to
the bank, and looked in at the sad
dler's to say that the harness of the
little cob which ran in the Village
carl must be overhauled and generally
looked to. Then how she had found
time to go in the fancy-work shop end
had bought one or two new things in
that line, and last of all how she had
been In to the jeweler's to get a new
atch-ke; and had there seen a won
derful belt ot silver coins which some
one had sold for melting down, and
this had been offered to her at such a
reasonable price that she had been
tempted to buy it.
"Auntie!" cried Dorothy.
'"Oh. I did not. say it was for you,
chihl," said Miss Dimsdale promptly.
Dorothy's late fell, and Miss Dims
dale laughed. "There, child, there, I
won't tense you about it. There it is
on the chimney-shelf."
And Dorothy naturally enough
jumped up and ran to open the box in
which the belt was packed, opening it
eagerly, and uttering a cry of delight
when she saw the beautiful ornament
lying within. It was a lovely thin.;,
and in her pleasure and pride at the
pos.-e.-.-üon of it Dorothy almost forg it
her new admit. t, Mr. Harris.
Not quite though, for when she slip
ped it on over her pretty white dress
and ran to the pier-glass between the
windows of the drawing-room to see
the effect of it. she suddenly found
herself wondering how he would think
she looked in it. and instantly the
swift color flashed into her cheeks, so
that she hardly liked to turn back to
face the gaze of her aunt's calm, far
seeing eyes.
Miss D.'msdale meanwhile had walk
ed to the window, and was looking out
into the soft evening dusk.
"Some one is coming along the
drive," she said. "I think it is David
A gesture of impatience was Dor
othy's answer, a gesture accompanied
by an equally impatient sound, but she
never thought of making good use vi
her time and escaping out of the room.
as a girl brought op in a town might
have done. No. she left the glass and
went across the room to the table
where her work-basket stood, and
took up an elaborate table-cover which
she had been working at in a more
or less uesuuory iasnion ior six
months past, and by the time David
Stevenson was shown in she was
stitching away as If for dear life. Miss
Dimsdale, on he contrary, did not
move from the Window until she heard
the door open, then she went a few
.steps to meet him.
"Good evening. David." she said very
kindly. "How very nice of you to
(ume in tonight! We have not seen
you for a long time."
"No, I've been dreadfully busy," he
answered, "and I am still, for the mat
ter of that. Hut I hadn't seen you for
a long time, and I thought I'd conic
over and see how you were getting cm."
"That was very good of you," said
Miss Dimsdale; theo she moved to the
I1-' :,1 Vr v '
VSJHM f J I ", v'
bell and rang it. "We will have a
light; the evenings are closing in very
"Yes," he answered.
Then he went across where already
his eyes had wandered to Dorothy,
who was bravely sewing away in the
"How are you, Dorothy?" he asked.
"I am quite well, thank you, David."
she replied. Just letting her hand rest
for a moment in his.
"I saw you this afternoon," he went
on, seating himself on a chair just in
front of her.
"Why, yes," said Dorothy; "you took
your hat off to me."
He was fine-grown, good-looking
fellow, big and strong and young, with
the unmistakable air of a man who is
his own master; but in Dorothy's
mind a vision rose up at hat moment
of another young man, who was also
big and strong, and very unlike David
David frowned a the remembra: ee
of the afternoou and of her companion,
and jujrt then a Deal maid servant cam,
in with a lamp, and the dusk vanished.
She set the lamp down beside Dor
othy, so that David Stevenson was en
abled to see her face clearly.
"If you please, ma'am," said Bar
bara to her mistress. "Janet Ben ham
, has OOSBS up to speak to you. She's
1 in great trouble about something."
"Janet flSllhSIII in trouble?" cried
I , Mb
. J.i rHß
I k ' i I L In 1. A
- Soff L
OWEVER, in the
face of hei aunt's
distinct command.
she had no choice
but to remain
where she was, and
she took up the
work again and be
gan a-stitching ve
hemently as if she
would fain sew her
vexation into the
pretty pattern.
David Stevenson, on the contrary,
was more than well satisfied at the way
in which matters had fallen, and in
wardly blessed that trouble of Janet
Ren ham's as much as Dorothy did the
contrary. Eis jerked his chair an inch
or so nearer to hers, and leaned for
ward with his elbows upon his knees.
Dorothy sat up very straight indeed,
and kept her attention strictly upon
her work.
"Who was that fellow I saw you talk
ing to this afternoon, Dorothy?" he
"A man that Lady Jane asked to
see me home," answered Dorothy,
"Oh. you have been to Lady Jane'.;?"
in a distinctly modified tone.
"Yes. I had been to Iady Jane's,"
returned Dorothy, matching a bit cf
yellow silk with minute care. "Why
didn't you go?"
"Because I wasn't asked," said he
curtly. "Lady Jane never asks me now
she's taken a dislike to me."
"Well. I can't help that," said Dor
othy, indifferently.
"I don't know so much about that,"
he said, rather gloomily. "I think you
might if you liked. Not that I want
you to trouble about it, or that I care
a single brass farthing about Lady
Jane or her parties. In any case, I
should only go because I might meet
you there."
"Oh. that's a poor enough reason,"
cried Dorothy, flippantly.
There was very little of the mute
lover about David Stevenson, and
whenever he found that Dorothy was,
in spite of good opportunities, slipping
further and further away from him,
he always got impatient and angry.
"Well I don't know that you're far
wrong there," he retorted, in a tone
which he tried with the most indiffer
ent success to make cool and slighting.
"However, her ladyship has left off
asking me to her entertainments of
late, and I don't know that I feel any
the worse man for that. So you met
that fellow there, did you?"
"You don't suppose I picked him up
on the road, do you?" demanded Dor-
othy, who was getting angry, too.
David drew in his horns a little.
"No, no, of course not." he said sooth
ingly. "I had no right to ask any
thing about him. only everything
you do and everyone you speak to in
terests me. I wanted to know who he
was, that was all."
"Then." said Dorothy, with a very
dignified air, "you bad better go and
ask Lady Jane herself. She can tell
you, and 1 am BUre ie will. I know
very little about tin gentleman fast
his name and very iittle besides."
David Stevenson sat back in his
chair with a groan; Dorothy Strode
stitched away furiously, and so they
sat until Miss Dimsdale came back
again. "H'm." her thoughts ran,
"quarreling again."
Dorothy looked up at her aunt and
spoke in her softest voice. "What was
the matter with Janet, auntie?" sho
(To be continued.)
German Writer Says the Chancellor
Speculated on State Seeret,
From London Truth: A pamphlet
has recently appeared in Germany en
titled "Bismarck and Bleichroeder." Its
author Is a member of the old Junker
party of the name of Diebat Daher, and
it professes to give some curious de
tails in regard to the present fortune
of the ex chancellor and how it was
J. quired. After the German war of
1870 the prince received from the coun
try two estates of no great value, which
coupled with his own paternal estate,
brought him in a fair revenue. He
then left Bleichroeder to look after his
private monetary affairs, with the re
sult that he now has a fortune amount
ing to 1. -.0,000.000 marks. This, the
author contends, can only have been
made by stock exchange speculation,
based on the knowledge that the
prince derived from his position at
the head of the derma n government,
and which he confided to Bleichroeder.
That, with the cares of empire on Ills
shoulders, he left his monetary affairs
in the hands of his banker is very
possible, and equally possible is it that
his banker did the best for his client.
b 4t 1 should require a good deal more
evidence than is afforded in this pam
phlet to believe that the prince specu
lated on state secrets in partnership
with a Hebrew financier or that his
fortune is now anything like 150,000,
ooO marks.
Proof Positive.
Dasherly "Too bad Mrs. Swift
doesn't like her husband." Flasherly
"Why. 1 thought she did." Dasher
ly "Oh. no- she gives him cigars for
Christmas presents." The Yellow
ATter HI Time.
Airtight "In one way Adam had a
rap." Dewtell What wns that?"
I Airtight "Christmas presents weren't
j in rogue 'hen." The Yellow Booi.
. f lA iinir'v
Christrr.as in the country forty years
ago was a different affair from what
it is now. I never think of Christmas
in those days without thinking of a
lovely winter day, bright with sun
shine, and snow everywhere: large
drifts, through which the horses floun
dered as they drew the stout sled, on
which was the wagon-bed filled with
bay, and covered with blankets and
buffalo-robes, where we cuddled down,
as we rode merrily away to spend
Christmas at grandpa's. Ye could
hardly wait till the horses stopped, so
eager were we to wish grandpa a mer
ry Christmas; but he was generally
ahead of us with his greeting of
"Christmas gift." That entitled him
to a present instead of us; but a kiss
all around was usually the way we paid
off our indebtedness, while some strip
ed sticks of peppermint candy, laid up
for the occasion, were given us. Our
aunts, uncles and cousins came next
for their share of good wishes and
merry jokes.
A bright fire burned in the fireplace
and there, suspended by a stout string
from the ceiling, was a great turkey
packed full of dressing, and sending
forth a most delicious odor as it turned
round and round, gradually browning
before the fire, the juice dripping into
a great pan on the brick hearth; and
from this pan grandma occasionally
dipped the juice with a huge iron spoon
and poured it over the crisp sides of
the turkey. Other preparations were
going on meanwhile in the kitchen,
where a cooking stove held the place
of honor, as cooking-stoves were very
rare in those days. The neighbors had
come miles to see it, and express their
fears as to the probability of its "blow
ing up." This cook-stove, however,
was not equal to cooking such a large
turkey in its small oven. A coffee
boiler sent out an odor of caffee strong
and fragrant, while a long table cover
ed with snowy linen (the work of
grandma's own hands) stood at the far
ther end of the long kitchen.
As soon as the turkey was pro
nounced done and the gravy made in
the dripping-pan, the chairs were plac
ed near the table and we were called
to dinner. No one was left to wait,
and such a merry time! After grandpa
had asked a blessing on the food, he
carved the turkey and supplied our
Waiting plates bountifully with any
piece we wished, together with all
manner of good things in the way of
vegetables. A rice pudding with plen
ty of raisins, pumpkin pies and rosy
Cheeked apples s rved for dessert, and
our only sorrow was that we could eat
bo little. After dinner we children
played games in the kitchen, around
the fireplace that was used when there
was no fire in the cook stove. Here
we popped corn, cracked nuts, told
fairy stories and played blind-man's
buff while the older ones "visited" in
the "keepln'-room" until the time came
to return home.
Bizzley "You must dislike Ncweomb
very much." Grizzly- "I hate him as
fiercely as a barber hates a bald headed
man with a full beard." Truth.
2 ;
A V m TT
The Childlike NUad.
Christmas is not only the mile mark
of another year moving us to thought
of self-examination, it is a season, from
all its associations, whether domestic
or religious, suggesting thoughts of
joy. A man dissatisfied with his en
deavors is a man tempted to sadness.
And in the midst of the winter, when
his life runs lowest and he is remind
ed of the empty chairs of his beloved,
it is well, he should be condemned to
this lashion of the smiling face. Noble
disappointment, noble self-denial are
net to be admired, not even to be par
doned, if they bring bitterness. It is
one thing to enter the Kingdom of
Heaven maim; another to maim your
self and stay without. And the King
dom of Heaven is like the child-like,
of those who are easy to please, who
love and who give pleasure. Mighty
men of their hands, the smiters and
the builders and the judges, have lived
long and done sternly, and yet pre
served this lovely character; and
among our carpet interests and two
penny concerns, the shame were in
delible if we should lose it. From a
Christmas Sermon by Robert Louia
Frorn every spire on Christmas eve,
The Christmas bells ring clearly out
Their message of good will and peace,
With many a call and silver shout.
For faithful hearts, the angels' song
Still echoes in the frosty air,
And by the altar low they bow
In adoration and in prayer.
A thousand blessed mem'ries throng,
The stars are holy signs to them.
And from the eyes of every child
Looks forth the Babe of Bethlehem.
But there are others, not like these,
Whose brows are sad, whose hopes
are crossed,
To whom the season brings no cheer,
And life's most gracious charm ii
To whom that story, old and sweet.
Is but a fable at the best;
The Christmas music mocks their ears,
And life has naught of joy or rest.
Oh! for an angel's voice to pierce
The clouds of grief that o'er them
The mists of doubt and unbelief
That veil the blue of Christmas skies.
That they, at last, may see the light
Which shines from Bethlehem and
For Christ the treasures of their hearts
Richer than eptcery or gold.
Hope of the ages, draw Thou near,
Till all tho earth Bhall own Thy sway,
And w hen Thou reign'st in every heart,
It will indeed be Christmas day.
Eleanor A. Hunter.
The Km- Smiled.
King Roosn r 'Hetk.ouib!"
Redcomb "Yes, sire."
K. R.- "What is tho cause of this un
usual excitement in the court?"
R. " "Tis the preparations for the
usual Christmas feast, sire."
K. R. "The annual feast?"
R. "Yes. sire."
K. R. (anxiously) "Are we In any
immediate danger?"
R. "No, sire. It is only the females
and young males."
K. R. "And those 'up-to-date hens
who have been th pest of the court
lately with their attempts to imitate
me. are they included?"
R. "All. sire."
K. R. "Excellent ! Perhaps this
may servo to teach them that they only
deceive themselves by their egotism;
that no matter how load they crow, the
world still regards them as hens." 0.
A. C
I;, ii .i.l. 1 ,t i About California.
An American geography printed in
1812 contslni this Interesting informa
tion: 'California is a wild and almost
unknown land, covered throughout the
year by dense fogs, as damp as thev
are unhealthy. On the northern shor?s
live anthropophagi and in the interior
are active VOlCSAOee and vast plains of
shifting snow, which sometimes shoot
up columns to ln onceivable heights."
The book adds that some of these
statements would seem incredible were
they not to well authenticated by trust
worthy travelers.
Rteht Here
would be a good place
for a well-put argu
ment as to why the
people should trade
with YOU.
This Space
Is For Sale.
It's a billboard that
goes to people and
is read by everybody
in this section of the
Lake Erie & Western R R.
InUinnnjioü A Michigan C ity Iiviioiit
TUae Card Number 44. In effect December
6 1S06.
'o. CO. Due to leave Plymouth at ll:r5a.m.
No. T2. " " " C:-'T p. XXX.
So. 23. Due to leave Plymouth at a. m
. 29. " " " 5:40 . m.
No. 151 Local freight, lv. " 11:55 p. m
Nos. 23. 20 and 22 run ''.ally except Sunday,
a makes direct connections at Iuiliauaonlts
ith Pennsylvania Co.. Big Foar, and C. H. h
.; n iso at Tipton with main line trains for
jli points east ami west.
Plymouth. .Ind
In effect January 18. Trains leave Plymouth
as follows:
vo. 6, " " 12:0"i a id. "
So. t, " M 10:00 p. m.
s'o. 21. Except Sunday, 5:31 a m. forTerrellaut
SO. 3, " " 12:56 p. m
For complf Time Card. gftl&S ill tra'.us and
stations, and for full Information as tj rates
turough cars, etc., address
T. A. DOWNS. Aeent,
Plymouth, lud
E. . FORD, General Passenger Aent.
St. Loult Mo
1, Mall and Express
9. Local
13. Fast Frelgnt
.7 oo a m
. 7 4". a n:
.5 Do p
. 1 1 rn
. . 5 :i m
No. 2. Mail and Express
No. 10, Local
No. It, Fast Freight
7 2 p ru
Nos. l. 2. 12. 13 daily. Nos. 7 and 10 daily ex
cept Sunday .
Elegant nev equipment and fast time
Tickets can be had tr all principal point?
md bscgaga checked to destluUuO. Depot
bead of Washington street. South Baod.
For Ir f urination as to rates and i-onnection
ipply to V. C. Raff, U2 Ith MutS street, oi
IS. W, Merrifield. Agent at iej..n
.ia s. ha R M. k. f. ft PJtceat.
T. P. SHUNTS, General Mauatei .
Some People
Will not subscribe for
their home paper and
never know what is h;q- 1
pening in their imme
diate vicinity.
Some People
Are victimized bv house
to house peddlers bv not
reading- the warnings in
their home pper.
Some People
Plod along from day to
day and do not get the
full benefit of their earn
ings because they do not
keep posted and take ad
vantage of the golden
money-saving opportu
nities offered in these
Some People
Would do much better
did they hand in their
subscriptions, at fnce, to
sndiono. Illinois i in Mm en

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