OCR Interpretation

Peninsula enterprise. [volume] (Accomac, Va.) 1881-1965, March 28, 1885, Image 1

Image and text provided by Library of Virginia; Richmond, VA

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn94060041/1885-03-28/ed-1/seq-1/

What is OCR?

Thumbnail for

Jno.W. Edmonds,
Owner and Editor.
Subscription Rates.
1 Copy, one year.SI 00
1 " six months. SO
5 " one year. 5 00
and a copy for six months free to the
one sending club.
10 copies, one year.?10 00
and a free copy to the sender.
Advertising Rates.
1 Inch, one insertion.SI 00
1 " three " . 1 "S |
1 " one year. " 50 ,
IST Rat es for lamer advertisements :
for a longer time made known on appli
635* A cros* mark on your paper indi- 1
cat es that your subscription has expired, j
or is due, and you are respectfully solic- j
e<l to renew or remit.
(^Commission men or business men ;.
of anv class in Baltimore, New York, i
Philadelphia or Boston, can reach more
truckers and farmers through the col-;
umns of The Enterprise than in any
other way.
Joau J. Guntor. John W. G. Bluckstono.
Accoxack C IT., Va..
will practice in the Courts of Accomack
and Northampton counties. j
}o\iu N'eely, I Cpshur B. Qutnby,
Accomac c. H. Ta. | Onancock, V?. j
Accoxac C. ft, Va.,
practice in tlie Courts on the Eastern j
Shore of Va. Prompt attention given
to the collect ion of claims.
ACCOXACK C. fl, Va.,
will practice in all courts of Accomac j
ami Northamption counties. Prompt,
attention to all business. j
Accoxac C. H., Va.
N. J. W. LeCATO,
Postoffice, SAVAGEVILLE.
Will resume thetnacficepf his niofes-11
oiwii hi uro v.uuiu1c3 Ul -ICvtJSlAl/K an? j
Office?Market St., near Baptist church,
Accomack county, Va.
Accoxack C. IL, Va.,
a full link of
Wept oh hand for Kale at lowest prices.
The undersigned, in the interest
RINE Insurance Companies, will
make frequent visits to Accomack
and will be glad to have the patron?
age of those desinng their risks
carried by good companies. All
communications promptly attended
to. Respectfully,
G. G. SAVAGE, Agent,
Eastville, or Shady Side, North-!
amp ton county, Va.
liupert T. 'Cljnstian
Bricklayer & Plasterer,
Offers his services to the public by
the Day or Contract. Will furnish ajl
material when desired. liv has had sever?
al years experience as a practical work?
man and will guntntee satisfaction!
G. H. Bagwell,
CiyrL Engineer and Surveyor,
Onancock, Va.
Will attend to surveying and di?
viding lands in Accomac and
Northampton counties.
geo. W. a udell 4 br0-,
Belle. Haven,
in all its branches done at their
place of business promptly, cheap, j
ly and in a workmanlike mauuer.
cjilorse Shoeing a specialty.
Our uumerous patrons in every
part of the Eastern Shore are given
as reference as to our proficiency
in thiaclusd of work. * i
Manufacturers if
Accomac County, Virginia,
Wish to call the attention of the fann?
ers of Accomac and Northampton
counties to their different gnules of
Pure Fish Guano,
all of which thev are prepared to supply j
those wishing a first-class fertilizer.
Thev have established a depository at j
Custis1 Wharf, Puweltou, where fann?
ers may purchase in qualities to suit.
Prices until further r^cice, as follows j
Dry.S2U.GC )
Two-thirds dry 20 Ol \.CASH.
Green. 13.0 t S
For further particulars, call on or ad
E. B. FINNEY, Agent,
Accomac county. Va.
Sewing Machine
In Quality and Simplicity.
II has no Rival .to put it down, but j
It Stands Bold at the Front, j
Having sold over 400 in 1881,1SS2 and
1SS3, shows that the
People of Accomac Appreciate Its Merits.
I can seil you other machines for less I
price. Singer pattern, drop leaf and two :
drawers, for $25 00; Wilson, Dornest re. j
Howe and any other pattern. Will sell
the Royal St. John, drop leafand six (6j !
drawers, for SSP.OO. but I cannot put i
?r HfUlTE vvitB tHesc illferior
? ff HS 8 C machines, as to the I
price. Having sold machines for nearly
fourteen years, gives me a chance to
know something of the tricks which
athers practice on those who are not
posted in machinery- If
Fog fait a Goal! Seiim Machine
. i
WJEATStlXTOTj any MAcinifTsI
that can be bought:'
but none so good as
Also, a large stock of FURNITURE,
MATTRESSES. &c.. on hand. Repair?
ing of Furniture, Pictures Framed, or
Anything else in our line promptly at?
tended to. (:OFFINS, CASKETS and
TRIMMINGS for sale.
Respectfully. &c,
onancook, Va.
It gives us pleasure to announce
that we have completed arrange?
ments direct with a Large Carpet
Manufacturer in New York, by
which we can show a very large
assortment of Carpets selected with
the greatest care from a Stock of
hundred thousand dollars,
Thereby saving our customers j
the wholesale dealers or job- j
bersintermediate profits. It in
eludes the most beautiful de
signs of Velvets, Brussels and
Ingrains, as well as all the less
expensive grades of Carpets.
We show you this immense stock
through a new and very practi?
cal invention, called Croft &
So constructed that we can ex?
hibit a very large number of sam?
ples within 5 minutes, and show a
continuous floor covered from each
sample of half a yard.
As we are relieved from any loss
by remnants or depreciation in val?
ue of stock by old unsalable pat
terns and do not require any extra
floor room or investment of capital,
we can afford to send for and sell
you Carpets
than the same qualities are even
sold for iu New York or elsewhere.
We cau always show you the
newest designs as soon as they ap?
?'Carpets cut to fit the room, also
made up if desired/'
Very respectfully yours,
Dealer Iu General Merchandise,
Modestown. Va.
Browne Jacob & Co.,
dealers In
Fruit and Trucking lauds, improved
and unimproved of GO, 163, 225. 340 and
600 acres eligiblv located on the line of
the N. Y., P. &N. R. it, NOW for sale
Also, four sea-side farms with oysters,
fish and wild fowl priviuges unsur?
passed on easy terms.
And town lots for business men at the
new stations on the railroad constantly
on hand at reasonable rates. Send for
Oedar Island Guano.
The cheapest fertilizer oil the
market according to results ascer?
tained by the farmer and chemist.
Dit. W J. Gascoynb, Chemist.
per cent
Moisture (let. at 100c.10.2(5
Soluble Phosphoric Acid. 217
Reverted Phosphoric Acid. 6.46
Available Phosphoric Acid . 8.63
Insoluble Phosphoric Acid. 2.45
Nitrogen. 4.82
1MMON1A. 5.86
Potash. 3.05
complete manure, containing all the
elements of good plant food, and in
proper proportions, to sustain veg?
etation through the entire period
of its growth, and brings crops to
their full maturity. Jt has been
found especially good on peas, po?
tatoes and ouious, and has given
equal satisfaction on corn and
grass. It is fully up to the standard
of last year, aud is registered in
Virginia. It is now ready for de?
Accomac C. II., Va.
Cart. 0. A. BnowxK-Pear Sir:?;
I used half a ton of your "Cedar Island j
Gu ano'' last.year on Corn and ran say j
that it doubled my crop in corn and fod- J
der. and mv neighbors and all others ,
win) passedithe field can testify to it. j
It was on very poor land. I think i t j
paid me well?would like to use two-nr j
three tons this'yeur. Very Truly Yours,
George S, Mapp.
Bobtown, January, 26,1S83,
I used Cedar Island Guano on Sweet
potatoes, and I am perfectly well satis
lied with ths result, I also used it on
Onions and other vegetables with the
best result W. J. Fosipic.
Sturgis V. O.
Mr. Browxe:?I tried your Cedar Is?
land Guano lust Spring on Sweet Pota?
toes, alongside of oilier fertilizers, and
think it nearly doubled in yield of any I
other used. Iii fact, if I had not used it J
at all, my potatoes would not have been
worth digging. John J. Ward, j
Hadlock, January, 20,18S5.
Cait. O. A. Browae;?Dear Sir: i
I used half a bag of your Cedar Island I
Guano last year on Sweet Potatoes, ai d j
can truly say it excels any fertilizer I
ever used. If I had used it more exten?
sively 1 am confident it would have
doubled my crop, Will try it again next
season, H. C. Johnson,
Willis'Wharf, Januarv. MA???_j
1 nseo \.;enar Island Guano on Sweet
and Irish Potatoes and Corn. On the
Irish it was fully equal to Peruvian
Guano, and better than any other fertil?
izers- On the Sweets and* Corn it was J
equal to any fertilizer I have ever used,
Accomac C. II. Va. Thos. Beasley,
I used Cedar Island Guano on Irish
Potatoes, next to Peruvian guano, there
was no difference in the yield of either.
1 tun of the opinion that with time Ce?
dar Island will yield more. I also put
it on Sweet Potatoes, and the results
were satisfactory, its yield was one
third more than "where 1 put no guano.
Druminondtown, win. W. Coxton.
I used Cedar Island Guano on Peas
by the side of Peruvian Guano, your
guano excelled the Peru viau by far. and
on Irish Potatoes my experience is they
grow longer and yield more; 1 mean by
growing longer, that the vines do not
iJve up so early and outyield the Peru?
vian. 1 also applied it to Corn, only about
a handful to every three or four hills
with very good results. A. T. James,
Locustville, December, 19, 1884.
I used your guano last year side Peru
vian guano and other commercial man?
ures, on Irish and Sweet Potatoes, the
Cedar Island was equal to any. 1 prefer
it. for the quality is up to any, and it
costs less money. W. Li. Bunting.
Folly Creek, near Drummondtown, Jan?
uary, 9,1885.
I used one-half ton of Cedar Island
Guano on Irish Potatoes side by side
with Peruvian guano that cost S00 per
ton of 5,000 pounds and other commer?
cial fertilizers, that on which Cedar Is?
land whs used was better than Peruvian,
and there was no comparison with the
other fertilizers. Of course, the long
drought and bugs prevented a full crop
from maturing. E. C, Parkus.
Matomkin, P. O.
1 used Cedar Island Guano on Irish
Potatoes with Peruvian Guano, and I
believe it to be equal to the Peruvian,
I also used it on Sweets; and the result
was excellent, I am going to use it again.
E. M. Savage.
Bells Neck. October, 9,1884
I used Cedar Island Guano on Sweet
and Irish Potatoes with other fertiliz?
ers, and on Sweets I had belter results
than any other, and fully as good on
Irish. 1 am going to use it again next
Year E. W. Kellain.
Sturgis, October, 9, 18S4.
I used the Cedar Island Guano on Irish
Potatoes uotwihstandhig the drouth 1
realized at rate of 40 bam Is from one
barrel of seed by the use of 3000 pounds
of guano per barrel of seed. 1 think it
the cheapest and best fertilizer in the
market. 1 shall continue to use it in the
future. Edwin T, Parks.
Leemont, Va., October, 23,1S84,
I used your Guano last spring on Irish
potatoes side by side with Peruvian
Guano and yours excelled it by onethi'd
and was green while the othars dried al?
most out, from the long drought.
Modestown. G. J. Northum.
I used your guano last year by the
side of Peruvian guano, the season was
bad, the Peruvian started first but the
Cedar Island was fully equal in yield;
and fron my observation would have sur?
passed it had it been seasonable.
W. T. Duncan.
Matomkin, P, O.
I used Cedar Island Guano on Sweet
potatoes, at the rate of 200 pounds per
acre, and believe it to be fully up to
any tiling I have used. Will use it again.
Sturgis P. O. . J. C. Fosque,
I used Cedar Island Guano on Sweets
by the side of other fertilizers, and
found it equal to any, F. S. Smith.
Willowdale, October, 0, 1S84.
The hliioni uiikii tho branch must die
Uorciro tho troes can bear;
Ii Is tho truth that wakes the 3lgh,
And hope that brings despair. ;
The tun Hint paints the llowor to-day
Will fade the nowor to-morrow;
Tho longesi Joys will pass away
And oud at lust lu sorrow.
It 1? that thought Infurtns the mind V
That souls are filled with fear;
It Is that nature is unkind
That starts the bluer tear.
The passing nlr by which wo live
HUH bears eur breath away:
Tho hnnd'wbli'h unt? life doth glre
Prepares iho bed of clay.
The brlghtor beams the steady light,
I The darker falls tho shade;
! Tho colors most divinely bright
i Are still the llrsi lb fade.
I It Is bccniBO all tlos must part
That fare wall words are spuken;
It Is the love luat nils tho heart
Uy which the heart Is broken.
?llobert llurus Wilson.
"Miss O'Brien will read tho next
stanza!" said Professor Ingrain, in
cold, dignified tones, as he looked
up from the battle-scarred copy of
Horace that lay on the desk, and
fastened his dark eyes on Elise.
"Excuse nie, professor, but I know
the translation I made of that pas?
sage is not correct, and I would
rather not read it. Although I
tried very hard I have not been
able to get at the poet,s exact
"I did nor. ask you to expr^.s
your opinion of the translatiou^m
had made, Miss O'Brien, but re
quested you to read it!" and the
shadows grew darker on his lace.
'?lteally, professor, I cannot read
it," persisted the fair girl.
?'Well, try!"
Elise recognized the accents of
command in what he said, and it
never occurred to her to disobey
him or resist further. No one who
had ever been in his class would
have parleyed with him when lie
looked and spoke in that way. So
slie snatched up her book and has?
tily read the verse he had called
her to translate.
Her eflort was greeted with a
titter of laughter all around the
class. It was not often that the
members of Professor Ingrain's
class cast aside the dignity becom?
ing the situation when they were
iu his recitation room, but this was
more than they were prepared for.
Even the professor could not re?
strain the smile that crept over his
d;ui'-?,bi?-vdsome face as Jhe h?ard
, ^ J. ?ciMiMi oi T06 Venerable
XiTtttn language. Elise feigned to
laugh a little, too.
"I suppose, sir," she said, looking
up at him defiantly, "the next time
1 tell you I cannot translate a cer?
tain ]>as>;igo you will believe me?"
He made no reply, but fastened
his eyes on her with a keener scru?
tiny, lie was wondering how the
girl who was so freely praised by
other teachers as being the star of
their classes, who, he had heard,
was the sharpest mathematician in
the school and excelled in the lit?
erature of other languages, could
be so slow to comprehend Latin.
Elise was glad when he passed
the verse to another girl, for she
was growing uneasy under his
searching gaze.
A short time afterward she was
on her way to her music room to
practice, and chanced to meet Mat
tie Hatten, her first favorite, id
the hall. Mattie commenced laugh?
ing, and exclaimed:
'?Well, Elise, that was a heavenly
translation you treated us.to this
morning! No doubt it made old
Horace turn over iD his grave to
have his pet thought so fearfully
"I don't care it it did! Did I
not tell Professor Ingram I could
not read it? I know as well as you
how ridiculous my translation
sounded. I have known a long
time there is no bright liope of my
ever being a Latin scholar. Papa
says it is because 1 did not have a
competent teacher in the beginning.
Anyway, I have, such a distaste for
it that I cannot make up my mind
to learn it. 1 did not dislike it so
before I commenced tailing les?
sons from Professor Ingram, but
now it. seems like J only go to that
class to make a display of my ig?
norance day after day. He gener?
alis" calls upon me to read the most
difficult part of the lesson, and if
he finds that I am especially igno?
rant on any particular subject that
is the very one about which he
asks me most questions. You
know I have no trouble in any.
other class, but it seems that when
he tixes those hateful old dark eyes
on me it sets my wits woolgather?
ing. I believe I am afraid of him."
"Afraid of Professor Ingram?
The idea of such a thing! It is
ti nt1 1 would not dare disobey him,
or thwart him in any way, but I
never dreamed of being afraid of
him. He is positive and stern, but
never violent nor rude, and, truly,
for justness and kindness all sea
sous are summer to him."
"Kindness!" cried Elise, her pret?
ty blue eyes sparkling scornfully,
"I wish he would indulge in a dis?
tribution of it when I am near, if
he keeps such a stock in store. 1
isuppbse, in my winter of discon?
tent, I fail to appreciate professor's
summer time disposition. I am
sure I ever dread the hour when
his class meets, and I would walk
far out of my way to avoid meeting
him on the lawn."
"Elise, you should not say that.
For my part I think he is very pa?
tient with .vou, and I know he has
never treated you unkindly."
"No, he neverchidesmein words,
but his eyes speak volumes of dis
approv d to me. He is so cold sind
I dignified that I am always ill at
ease in his presence. They say lie
goes much in Society; I wonder if
his man tier ont there is the same
as here? If it is I should think
there would always be a vacant
space..around him."
?tS?$lo not know; I never met him
before" 1. came here, but I have
1 heard he cut quite a figure in Par
i is,'winter before last."
Here Mattie, remembering that
' the bell had rung for her next class,
started on, telling Elise to come
over to her room early that even?
ing, tint they could get through
fwith their work in time to go out
; for a walk. Elise aud Mattio were
>>true friends, and they always
' studied their lessons together, and
Sielping each other all they could,
^?*:cept iu Latin. Elise would not
, sndv thatjyifh any one, because
U'.e feltTtb?t iu it, she could not
';belp them in return for the assist
|;auce they would give her.
! For a few days after this little
i-episode, Elise, although she pre
I'teuded not to mind her failure,
j'worked at the despised study with
inore zeal.
i But ere long she became dis?
couraged again, aud many a time
would have begged the superin?
tendent's permission to quit the
j class, but for one reason?she
ftuow that unless she attained a
yrofieiency iu this branch, she
could not take a full diploma that
year, and, although the study of
Laiin was a great burden to her,
she could not gain her own con?
sent to lay it down at the cost of
losing a diploma, '-the consumma?
tion devoutly to be desired" of ev?
ery school girl's heart.
"1 am afraid it is useless for me
to try," she said to one of the girls,
on her way to the professor's otlice
the. day of the senior Latin examin
at ion. "but it seems too bad, after
I have been so successful in all my
other classes, to give up my hopes
of a diploma and the scholarship
medal without even making an ef
lort in this. If I had gotten the
music medal, I would not care so
much, but 1 lost time droning over
tins old Latin, and could not pay
proper attention to my music. 1
rarely ever had such horrid luck in
all my life, and poor papa will be
so greatly disappointed when he.
comes to the commencement!"
Lere Elise's voice faltered, and a
tear stole Into her great blue eyes.
"I am glad you are going to try,
dear," said the girl to whom she
had been speaking, "aud I hope,
s. 'icerely, you will meet with more
.-.iV -t.-ulj ?l.?j all bbegirla iuved the
beautiful, kind Franco-Irish girl, for .
she was always merry and always
kind. Sh? worked hard all that
day aud remained iu the otlice
writing long after all the other
girls had gone. The professor
waited patiently for her, but never
glanced to the desk where she sat.
At last she laid down her pen, fold?
ed her papers without reading
them and, with a deep sigh, hand
ed them to the professor. It was
seldom Elise, sighed, but she was
very tired now, and had little hope
of her labor availing anything. A
little while afterward she passed
by his door, and glancing in, saw
that he was sitting iu the same
place intently reading ucr papers.
"I understand!" she said to her?
self, ''lie is so much afraid my
papers went a mark high enough
to pass me (hat he cannot wait
longer to look over them.''
Perhaps Elise felt that she was
unjust to the professor in her sur
mise, but she would have felt it
more if she had only glanced up to
meet the kind, sympathetic look in
his e^es as she handed him her
i papers, not an hour bet?re.
In a few days I hey all met again
in his otlice to hear the fiat passed
on the result of their labor. When
he came to Elise's name he made a
slight pause before he read it, and
the mark he had put on her exam?
ination?a pause to give her failure
emphasis, Elise interpreted it. She
was the only one who had failed!
.No need of emphasis to make her
feel it! How was she to bear her
great disappointment?
If Elise's good judgment had not
made her know how deficient she was
in a knowledge of this language,
.?he would have believed the pro
lessor's dislike for her had influ?
enced his decision, but she well
knew it was just, and her heart
sank deep under her failure. She
did not raise her eyes from the
floor, but sat there motionless, ex?
pressionless, until the class was dis?
missed, folgte hist time, with con
gratulatiofiBrom the professor.?
Then, without speaking to any one,
she hastily turned to leave the
room. She made her exit from his
presence to day less joyfully than
she had ever done, for, heretofore*,
however serious may have been her
bearing when she entered his reci?
tation room, her face was always
the most radiant of the class as
soon as she was dismissed.
3he avoided speaking to anyone,
and walking briskly to her music
room opened her portfolio and com?
menced practicing. It was the hour
for her to practice her vocal lesson,
but she was too nearly crying to
sing. At first her lovely eyes were
so dim with tears she could scarce
ly see the notes, but ere long, with
her unusual powers of self control,
she had mastered her feelings suf?
ficiently losing. Turning over the
fancy operas she was wont to prac?
tice at this hour, she sought the old
Irish melodies that she used to
sing her lather summer evenings
when the shadows had gathered on
the bills, and the din of the world
was hushed and gave place to the
music of her .sweet, childlike voice.
It seemed a consolation to pour
forth the sadness of her soul into
those sweet old refrains that she
had first heard as they fell in mu?
sic from the lips of her mother,
whose voice had long been hushed
on earth. The last uotes of "Kath
leen Mavourneen" had just been
borne away by the snmnier breezes
when Mattic, her favorite, gently
opened the door and asked permis?
sion to enter.
It was not long before Elise's
tears had broken through the bar?
riers of self control and were fajling
fast from eyes that, it.seemed na?
ture had fashioned for smiles.
"I know it is silly to cry about it,
Mattie; but, oh, it is such a bitter
disappointment! Xo diploma, no
medal, no honor on commencement
day after so many sessions of faith?
ful labor. Ami I have looked for
ward to my commencement day as
the happiest; fairest day of ray'life.
I would not mind for only my own
sake, hut to think how disappoint?
ed poor papa will be."
In vain Mattie tried to console
her friend, telling her that was only
the disappointment of a day, and
'?would net er count in the news of
a battle," as she had merely failed
to attain the outward flourishes of
her recompense, that she had gain?
ed knowledge, taste and adorn
incuts which were recognized by all
the inmates of her Alma Mater,
and wouid be appreciated by socie?
ty in days to come.
But all the logic failed to bring
back the smiles to Elise's.face, for
she could not help but deem it a
cruel fate that her first .great dis?
appointment should cast its shad?
ow over the day she had marked
out to be the brightest of her lift.
But after all when that-much
talked-of day came Elise was not
so sad as she feared she would be.
How could she be sorrowful iu such
a scene Surrounded by such a
convoy of merry, white-robed crea?
ture*, with such u liood ol golden
sunlight pouring down upon them,
balmy, perfumed laden breezes
fresh from t he gardens of .June fan?
ning their brows and strains ol joy?
ful music charming their senses,
hearts that had grown old in disap?
pointments sgdu cast aside their
The night after the exercises
were over and the audience dis?
persed, Elise's father led her out on
the moon-lit balcony to tell her
how well pleased he was with her
sessiou's accomplishments; he told
her how happy it made him to hear
hei voice and to sec how skillfully
she executed the most difficult in
uitivn r<ri '|/iCCCtt?
"But, dear pupa,T hawnodi'
ploma, no medal for you," she said
deeply sighing.
'?That does not iu thejeast.dis
please me, my little girl. As to
medals, they only represent rela?
tive excellence, and if you are not
exactly satisfied with your literary
attainments, and having your
heart set on taking a diploma, you
need not be disappointed, for to?
day Professor Ingram spoke to me
of your f ilure in Latin examina?
tion, and iold me the cause of it.?
tie said, as he accepted the iuvita
tion extended him, he would take
pleasure in giving a few private
lessons, and you might pursue your
studies iu Latin aud be able to
take your diploma yet, with very
little inconvenience to either par?
This revelation struck Elise al?
most breathless.
"What invitation, papa?" she
asked. "Is Professor Ingram go
' ing to visit you at Woodlawu this
"Yes, darling, I have often invi?
ted him to visit me at my summer
home, that we might hunt and fish
together and spend again a pleas?
ant time ill each other's company
as in our old college days. I have
always been fond of Ingrain, and
will be only the more rejoiced to
have him with me if his visit is the
means of making my loved one
more happy."
It made Elise's heart sjuk, the
prospect of the summer before her,
when she bad expected to be as joy
ous and free as a lark, to be restrain?
ed all the bright, beautiful time by
the gr.n*e,dignified professor,s pres?
ence. How much more happy she
would be lo pursue her studies tree
aud aloue!
But she did not make known her i
feelings because she loved her fath?
er so well and would not for any?
thing annoy him. She turned the
subject as soon as she could, asking
eagerly about her "Aunty," a maid?
en sister of Mr. O'Brien who lived i
with him and tried faithfully to fill
the office of mother to his orphan?
ed child.
Eor the first few days after the i
professor's arrival at Woodlawu
Elise skillfully steered clear ot his I
presence, never meeting him except
at the table and when she went to
take her lessons from him iu the li- ;
The professor, although she was
perfectly polite to him, saw that she
avoided him, aud the hour spent
with him in the library each morn?
ing was a real punishment to her
The first morning, as the professor ]
had not brought his text books with ]
him, she was obliged to let him look
ou her book as slu lead; but by the ,
next day she had brought down au
old copy of Tacitus, that was her
father's, from some dusty recess in
library, and politely offered it to
him. lie noticed this, aud tried to
make her more at ease in his pres?
"Miss Elise," he said, one morn?
ing, "let me entreat you not to sit
so far off, as if you were afraid of
of me. Come over here and sit on
this sofa by me, and I give you my
word for it, if you do go a little
wrong, yon will sustain no mortal
injury at mv hands. Fray do not
rush through your lessons, listening
to my comments and corrections as
the inevitable, and then hurry out
of my presence as it I were an ogre.
It was expedient for me to be strict
and stern iu my class at the insti?
tute, but the relation as teacher and
and pupfl need uo longer exist be?
tween us; let me beyoiirTriend and
helpmate. I do not know why you
appear'to dislike niemand are so
constrained in my presence. I have
often noticed that you are never so
frolicsome and gay when I am near.
No need t?"put constraint ou your
happy spirit ou my account, child.
Although the joyous mirth of youth
has departed from my life forever
it still gladly echoes the music of
youthful hearts."
"Indeecl, Professor Digram, you
misjudge me. I do not dislike you,
aud I know you have a I way ? been
just to me. 1 confess I was not al?
ways perfectly tree aud at cas.e in
your class. You always looked at
mc as though you were criticizing
what 1 said so severely iu yonr
?'Did I," said ho, laughing.
"Well, hear me swear, right here,
by the shade of old Tactitus that I
will no! doso again. And will not you
on your side, promise not to look so
solemn whenever I come learyouf"
Elise promised, and it was not
long uefore she and her teacher
were fully enjoying each other's so
ciety. They often sat and conver?
sed long after lessons were over.
Nor was their conversation confined
to Latin literature, for Elise was be?
ginning to leel so free in his pres?
ence Unit she could converse with
him as easily as with one of her
schoolmates. She would show him
her books, birds, and flowers, and
even let him examine the collection
of botanic specimens she had made.
She would'ol ten go out for walk
with him, and as they wandered
where the piuspect of green, slop?
ing hills, shady dells, sparkling
streams and distant blue mount?
ains were spread out in heavenly
beauty before them, the grave pro?
fessor lost many a lesson that na?
ture, in her silent language, would
have taught him, in listening to the
siren voice of his happy companion.
Elise would go ou with her merry
discourse, hardly realizing that the
dark tace before her, which she had
come to thiuk so handsome, was the
same that had often been turned
upon her with a frowning expression
m the dreary old recitation room
at the iustitute\
?Ue often sang for him, and he
seemed never to the of hearing 'her*
voice. One evening when she had
finished singing "Kathleen Mavour
iieeu," he said; "Do you know that
1 ouce hoard you sing that song
more beautifuiiy than I ever heard
it sung by any musical artist of eith
er conti nein?"
"Why, no; I did not know you ad?
mired my voice enthusiastically.
Please tell me when I was so for?
tunate as to deserve such prase."
"Do you remember of practicing
in the music -room near my office
the hour after ? read the examina?
tion report of my Latin class? I
heard you singing, and went out
and sat down by the window and
listened to your songs. 1 was there
when Miss Llatton came in and you
told her how sorely disappointed
you were in not getting your diplo?
ma. I cannot tell how deeply I sym?
pathized with you! It was theu I
determined you should not be dis
appouted, in the end, if any assist
ance. I could render you would be
of avail."
"Oh. yon eavesdropper! and how
little I dreamed then you were so
sweet and kind. I do not remem?
ber all I said in my disappointment;
maybe I said something naughty
about you." said Elise,afiectionate
ly taking his hand from the back
of the chair, where it was lying, and
tenderly toying with the fingers.
"No, you did not," he said, bend?
ing his dark, handsome face close
to hers; "and my little darling, 1
have something more to confess.
Do you know that, as I heard you
sing, I determined to one day make
that sweet voice and these sunny
urls aud .aughing blue eyes all mv
But we will not listen to the words
he uttered as he told the old, old
story that has kindled Iovelightin
the eyes of happy maidens from
time immemorial; the old, old story
that enchanted Elise as no music
had ever done, and called forth from
her heart a confession of the love
she bore for him?a love-that "was
founded on a rock," and was as pure
us her spotless life.
Ere another commencement day
rolled around at the institute, the
professor had made her his bride,
and when became to sign his name
to the diploma that Elise had so
fondly desired, a thrill of happiness
and pride ran through his heart as
he thought of all it had helped him
ro gain.?Courier-Journal.
A Matter of Interest.
"Oh, Mr. Smith," said a young
lady at a church fair, "I want your
help tor a moment."
"Certainly." replied Mr. Smith,
"what can 1 do for you?"
"I have just sold a tidy for 615
that cost me fifteen cents, and I
want you to tell me what percent?
age that is."
"A transaction ofthat kind, my
dear Miss B., "said Mr. Smith, who
is a lawyer, "gets out of percentage
and into larceny."?Drake's Mag?
Entermuse only SI a year.
Edgar A. Toe's Cliila-Wife.
A New York letter says:?The
Poe memorial monument for Cen?
tral Park has arrived from Europe
and will be unveiled some time in
the spring. It consists of a plain
shaft and a square pedestal, on the
four sides of which are bas reliefs
representing conceptions from the
"Kaveri" and oue or two of his
other great/poems. -I mention this
for.the purpose of relating some
facts concerning Poe's poop child
wife, which have never ,hefore
beeu published. It was iu 1845 or
.somewhere.thereabout that the po?
et came to New York to ftud some?
thing to do. He did not succeed
well, and it was on that visit that
he sold the "Raven" to the Ameri?
can Review for $5. He finally
went out,to Fordham, a little viW
lage^np in Westcliester enmity,
which borders on the suburbs <?{
New York City. It was then that
he was living svith 'his child-wife,
who took consumption and died.?
She was buried at Fordham, and it
was she who .was tue "Annabel" of
the most beautiful and touching
poem he ever wrote. What other
human heart than his could have
measured such a depth of tender
pathos? About three years ago the
people of Fordham determined they
would remove the village grave?
yard. Few of them knew of Ed?
gar Allen Poe or his beautiful "An?
nabel." They began to remove the
bones and lay them away promiscu?
ously in a sort of charuel ground
some distance out in the country.?
A geutlemau iu New York who
knew much of Poe's life, who loved
his poetry aud was aware that his
wife was buried at Fordham, heard
ol the removal of the graveyard
and went out to protect tjie bones
ot sweet "Annabel." The grave
had alrea ly beeu opened and he
came near being too late. He col?
lected the precious relics, wrapped
them neatly in a piece of paper
aud took them to his home in New
York, where he kept them 1'cr
nearly two years. One day a gen?
tleman called who had known Mrs.
Poe and who was very fond of the
poem "Annabel." The conversa?
tion drifted toward those beautiful
lines, and verse after verse was re?
peated over and over. Finally the
gentleman of the house arose and
said: "I will show you something."
He then proceeded to unwrap
the bones of the poor heroine.
"These," said he, "are the bones
of 'Annabel.'" He then proceeded
to tell the story. The boues were
soon afterward sent to be interred
at Baltimore.
- Tnic-Ki?c-in uienraiae^oT~jrJrbTfer?.""
Thirty years ago a rising publish?
er, full of drive, called ou Mr. Geo.
P. Burham, of Boston, and was at?
tracted by a print of a horse hang?
ing against the wall. To his inquir?
ies Mr. Burham replied that the
lithograph was a young horse which
had been sold for $1,000 to go New
Orleans. "Whaj:," exclaimed the
astonished publisher, "one thous
aud dollars for a horse! Is there a
man in the country fool enough to
pay that much money for a horsv?"
The years rolled on, and it was on?
ly last summer that the telegraph
flashed the intelligence to the four
corners of the world that the rich?
est man in America had sold Maud
S. for forty thousand dollars. Tho
purchaser of Dexter at 835,000 and
of Ranis at 830,000, and he was the
driving editor and printer who had
expressed so much astonishment
that a man could be found who was
fool enough to pay 81,000 fora horse.
Mr. Bouner's idea of the value of a
trotter has changed since that day.
?Turf, Field and Farm.
Who Was Driving*
One of the prettiest conceits in
Uncle Remus' new book is put into
the mouth of an old negro driver,
who had run away from his master
and could not be caught; but an
old lady bought him, because he
had saved the life of her son, and
he surrendered himself and be
came a faithful sei van t.
When his old mistress came to
die her wandering mind dwelt
upon the negro who had served her
so faithfully. She fancied she was
making- ajourney.
"The carriage goes smoothly
along here," she said. Then, after
a little pause, she asked, "is David
driving?" ami the weeping negro
cried from a corner of the room:
"Tain'c po' Dave, inistr'ss! De
good fiord done tuck holt er de
And so dreaming as a little child
would dream, the old lady slipped
from lite into the beatitudes, if
the smiles* of the dead mean any?
Lacked Energy.
It was almost midnight; the hands
of the clock were foiling painfully
around their circuit; the maideu
yawued, and incidentally remarked
that it was growing late, but, the
youth kept his seat.
"Miranda," he said at length, "I
have made up my mind toa.k you
if you will be my wile."
"1 don't know," she auswe.'cd;
"you seem to lackenergy.aud energy
is an important tiling in a young
man who undertakes the responsi?
bility of supporting a wife."
"Of course; but why do you think
L lack cue gy?"
"Why?' Because there doesu't
seem to be much go to you."
"Much go to me?"
"Not much go home, at least."
He uuderstood her.
An indiscreet man is like an un?
sealed letter, everybody can read
him, but the wise man seenreth in
time what in time he will surely
need?a bottle of Dr. Bull's Cough

xml | txt