§ts Jrt (iLitip.
VonLlSHED EVERY SATURDAY.
OFFICE—BUBN.V VIST \ STREET,
dar Jab Printing Department.
Wo hire supplied ourselves with a good
ssiortmint of Printing .'tutorial and are
c.’dv to execute all tin Is of Job Printing.
«r, reasonable terms
We tire prepare I to print Pamphlets, Cats
Issues, Posters, large or small, Cards, Ball
Hotels, B 11 Heads. Blanks of every doecrip
ou. for Clerks, SasrifTs, Justices of the
Peace. Constables, ko.
POE & MATHEWS, Propri tors. {established September h.h.j $2 50 PER ANNO ■'. -In Advance.
- ...r „ „ • - ■- ...-■ - . . - - ..... — ■=--—~ .-- - —— ■“-■ —---■^=^^r--.l. —■■-.-I1.H- —■■■--■I.:-.- ~ =
VOLUME3. DP^S ARC, ARKANSAS, J ON IE 60, 18(5-. W UMBE11 16.
. ■■ ■ .. — 1 -
RITES OF AUVERTISno.
One square (10 lines of thi* sire type) for
tie insertion, $1 : t.vth ad iiticnal insertion
■ 5 cents.
fl v•. J 2 ;.v | ? rn. | ~ m |! \7I7
qnTiT th $0 (H* 001*1:. CS
‘ Squares, 6 •' 9 00 12 0t»| 20 0<*1 ;'3 CO
Squares, 0 tH 12 On 16 (tf> 26 01 i.j 06
iS.jimr. ,. 11 M 14 Of 17 on ?7 <• ' -IP <
Advertiser* by the yea? w... be ... ic.wd
u their leg timate busines.
I'ersonal communication- ■<tr - dovbla
T-cgai a ivertmements v ?■ •} M-yo.t. 10?
on» .qtare or1e?«. first ii ■ ' ■ • i 75
cents per square for each a- t? ins*; tien.
Advertisement* not ordc 1 • rr rx . . J
time, wili b; inserted t I. loii . idoa, and
charged for accordingly.
All a Ivertisinp due after r cor.d :n*?rtfon.
PROFESSIONAL CARDS. ,j
Z. P. H. FARR,
ATTORNS? AT LATT,
LITTLE ROCK, ARKANSAS.
TT. 3?. Vaughan.
ATTORNEY AT LAW
AMD
SOLICITORS IN CHANCERY.
DES ARC. ARKANSAS.
WILL praotice In the Uotirta of the counties
sf Prairie. White, Jaoksnn, Woodruff And
Montoe Particular Attention given to the
collodion of claims any where in the State.
eepTtf.
_ —•
x. E. EMERSON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW
AND GENERAL LAND AGENT,
AUSTIN. PRAlB.lt COUNTY. AKK.
Special attention given lo the collection
and securing c'.sime. homing and selling lands,
pajing taxes, exaiititigtillce. &o. april 11
J. R. P. ALDtUDGfc,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
Cotton Plant, Arkansas.
Wn.I. practice >n the Circuit Court* of
Woodruff enmity, an I 'he Circuit Courts nf
ithe seventh Julio's District, and gWe prompt
attention to all bttsinese entrusted to ltts
oare. jan12'
'
ft. ». OANTT. W. J. BROJUnOH.
GANTT *. BEO^AUGH,
AT TO ftH£Y4 JkT LAW.
Will practice in t .'■ counties of Prairie.
White, Wo.-drutf. Vonr ie. Ark*nm« and i’u
Jaski Prompt atttention firen n> the collec
‘iion of claims laxm- will be paid and title*
Hurcstigntc.i for n m residents. apr]4 8m
J. ii. GATEWOOD, J. S. THO.dAo,
GftTEWO D & THOM -,
AT? SAW
DCS AT! C, AURAS***.
if amts pattxksov. Ctjctan c. oause.
... t-i t*ta, Arkansas.
prnetit) p> liiu Conn les of Woodruff.
U.roieOu. iuueBslidono. u ite. Lawrence.
P.iadolpj. Green. Cpa a ‘o.» and Cro>s. and
twttd to spocittl cae.s ir. miy part of the
eiuto. Address cither ofi.ee n»yl84y
.. .—r
■* re T-vVfffAlkl AlUak W A MlfBKcaa
JOASOJI A HOOKE,
Attorne>yc at Law,
SOLICITORS IN CHANCERY.
—AMD —
atu Collecting Agents,
SSARCV. AKIC AMAri.
Win give prompt a. tontion to any husinesp
in the counties of lndopcndenca, Jackson
Woedfuxf, Monroe, Prairie, White, Conwa.
and Van Bnren ninrfl
#
NEW HOTEL
1\ DEV ILL'S BLUFF. SSL.
XU E “ ATLAN HOTEL M
IS IfOW OPISM for the accomnio
d itiou of the tra*cilia* public excju
eivele The 1'able* wiU be S.upbUec
with the i liniceit tUc market affords
Our a^roiumot htiiugaud genial triend
J M. McClintcok, i* proprietor. At
who patronire bin will go awaj
“Uunhicg let." Jaull
PROFESSIONAL CAROS.
81 MOM P nrOHPi WV. W SMITH.
HUGHE* & SMITH,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW
— mu—
ItKAL ESTATE AGENTS,
CLARENDON. ARK.
80L r. CLARK. 8AM w WILLIAMS.
JOE W. MARTIN.
CLARE. WILLIAMS & MARTIN,
Attorneys at Law,
LITTLE ROCK, ARKANSAS.
in: Us practice in all the Courts, prosecute
Cairns of all kinds, collect debts. And
act as Real F*tafr and Central 'gents
—Markham Street, near State House.
april28-tf
. - - - *
JAMES J. GALI, A GHEE.
Atto- ney at L- w,
COTTON PLANT, WOODRUFF CO. ARK
Will practice where called.
sep!S-tf.
DU. J. V7. ET7RNBY,
Being permanently loc»t»ed nt Pes Arc.
will continue the practice of his profession in
all its brunches.
Office at Col. J. M. Burney's Drug Store.
DR. ALL3 IT
Offers Ills sevvices to the citGens ot
Ops Arc and vicinity in (lie practice ol
medicine. Thankful for past lavors,
and bv attention to business tie expects
to slurp a liberal prtronage.
Offici—At bis residence-—late the
residence of W. G. Frith. scptil
m rmT O T^CTCUNKT
U • WW i. J • ,
Tenders his professional services to
the citizens of Des Arc and vicinity.
Office—At 13. F. Johnson Dni^fjtorc.
Sup-l
Dr. R. B. S IFLBY,
TENDERS his professional servi' es to tho
Ciuzans of Dos Arc and surrounding
country, in the practice of vedirine and Oh
.^retries. He hopes from an experience «f
over fifteeru years in Southern practice, to j
merit a share of public patronage.
Office one door Ea*t of Burney’* Drujr
«tore> march 2b 1868-Iy
B. F. Johnson.
D HUGGIST,
DES ARC, ARKANSAS.
KEEP on'hand ft large assortment of Drugs.
Medicines. Pattits. '>ils. Perfumerv.
Patent Medicines. Wines. Brandies. Whiskey,
for medical purposes, which lie will se' low
Prescriptions and orders filled promptly
Terms cash. M 15. 1808.
A WELL SELECTED STOCK OF
FRfcSH DRUGS,
MEDICINES feNO CHEWCIS,
School Hooks and Stationery,
Psints, Oils, Dy-Stntfs. Window -Class. Pvr
fnm<-rv. Patent Medicines. Wines. Brandies.
Whis’tey. for medicinal wnrposes
Dr. -ngooleV celebrated Southern Remedies,
invariably for cash. r.t strall r'■ofits.
ju121 A. 51. BI'BSEV.
r». b. CTKtdV. b' *c ® ',:
C00DY & McRAE,
MW
SEARCY, WHITE COCSTY,
, AUKANSA8.
tVill practice iu nil he courts ot Arkansas
mar'J4
F. LEPTIE.X,
Watchmaker and Jeweler.
DES ARC. ARKANSAS.
r AM NOW I’llKl’AHKD TO DO AU
L kinds ut work iu my lino. Mend
ng. Cleaning .Vc
_Thankful for pass furors. I solicti
•onlinuance of tits patronage herer tor be
stowed on mo. feb28-tf*
The undersigned having wa
opened a House of linler- JuR
lolnilieut. ou Buena Vista Street, o • u
the Steamboat Lauding, 'or tbs acooiun.edu
tion of
TRAVELERS and boarders.
By the day. week, or month, solioite the pat
ronage of those risiting D*s Arc. The far
wrtl be as good as the market affords, an
terms moderate.
Oiee me a trial, and I will tudearor Is gir
satisfaction.
BENJAMIN HAYLEY.
Dot Arc. Ark.. Uaroh 28. 1887—18ui
From the Land Wo Love ] i
C>.\ LT SOW OF HIS 91 OTHER.
‘ He was ibe odIj eon of a widow.”—Monck
Jendmnt.
CHAPTER I.
I knew Winsmeede Fallon and ad
mired him lor manliness of peison and
character. lie had line eyes, hair,
beard and teeth.—Grace, color and
stature combined to make him pleasant
to look upon. The hist time 1 ever
saw him was in a room crowded with
\ ouili and beauty. His mother leaned
upon hit arm. The one young and
handsome, the other old and feeble ;
both were beautified by the contrast.
A lady at my side remarked—
“Winsmeede Fallon will never mar
ry, lie is absorbed iu bis mother.”
"She is a quaint looking old lady,’
said I, “but very attraC'!'t®
‘•Very, there is such harmony in
her drets. person, and gentle ways
•‘And Winsmeede ?” queried I.
“He is a southern gentleman of the
highest type. How could lie be any
thing else with such a mother?”
"Did you see that young lady in the
reception room? asked 1.
“That young lady I Why, my dear
6ir, there were at least twenty.”
I had seen only one, and would have
seen her among a thousand. Again
she passed before me, a servant follow
ing with a trunk, on which 1 read—
"K. Annesley, Petersburg. Virginia.’
My companion was still speaking.
"What a pity he has volunteered!”
"Who? Annesley ?” asked 1, looking
towards the door.
"Pshaw! 1 am speaking of Wins
meede.” said she impatiently.
"Ah—yes—no 1 mean; not for our
cause,” rejoined I.
“I was thinking of his mother,” con
| i i ii ill'll bill.*, iiu is me mill bv»ii vi «•
widow.”
1 learned that evening that she had
buried her husband and four children
in one year. Love had been her idol ;
Death drew her unto the Cross, and
the last child was spared. In perfect
trust and resignation lay the loveliness
ol her Old age. Afterwards I said to
young Fallon—"How will your mother
bear this parting?'’
"You do not know my mother,”
answered he proudly, “she is a dove
hearted woman, but her Soul is a tower
ot strength. She is a patriot and a
Christian.”
J did not appreciate the force of hi«
words, until 1 met her the morning he
went away, and saw a sweet, patient
smile on her face.
CHAPTER tt.
READING THE LIST
A few days alter the disastrous
battle of-a |>ale anxious throng
might have been seen crowding around
our village post office. Mrs. Fallon
leaned on her cane apart from tin
crowd, while the llsC^dead, wounded,
and missing was &an. The sun was
hot, her walk had been long, so her
feet ached and the cane shook in her
hands. Site was growing old very
last. The mau inside the office read
on.
Killed: John Lanhnm,
Martin Smith,
Jag. Thompson.
Winsmeede Fnllon.
Those within heard no cry, and those
without were listening too attentively
to notice her, though they said, “Poor
old lady!” "Poor Mrs. Fallon! ’ “Who
will break tMs dreadful news to her?"
Willi her head drooping a trifle lower
than was wont, she tottered away
voiceless. A mist came liefi re her,
and she groped her way home, feeling
before her, as one does in the darkness.
She was found sitting on the steps of
her own door, with her hands clasped
together around iter knees, rocking
hot eel:’ to and fro. The shock had
numbed every faculty, and she submit
tod like a dome linant, to our minis
trations, without any apparent desire
i for m > tiling, save to lie quite still, her
j eye* fixed upon the portrait of her son.
j -Mic did not speak for ditys, and we
I reared this dtrtnb grid preceded second
I childhood, or death. Day after day,
! exhausted by exertion, oppressed by
I the stillness, we sat watching and
waiting. We sat thus one morning:
my arm rested on the window-sill,
where 1 learned, glad to be near a pet
mocking bird, who dipped bis beak in
i basin of water, twittering and eliirp
ji,g as be stroked bis leathers. Mr*.
Fallon loved birds. They were never
caged, and yet this one bad been
taught to pick crumbs from her hand,
or nestle in her bosotn. Winsmeede
possessed ttie same power over horses
and dogs, it must have been through
gentleness. I held out my hand, the
filed hopped upon it, and from thence
to the vine against the window, turn
ed his little, sharp, blinking eyes
heavenward, and sang ills first song
Mrs. Fillou's eyes left the picture, and
rested on the bird. When his rlrh
wild melody changed to * low q liver
log strain, she spoke:‘-It is the vole#
©r my son. Voris never sang before."
I passed mv hand over my eyes, tlx
ladies wept, she smiled. How won
drous are the wtys of God! Tim Com
forter spake, through the song of a lit
tie bird.
CHAPTUH III.
‘•Entreat me not to leave thee, or l<
return from following after thee.”
About sunset, in the month of Oeto
tier, a stranger dressed In mournitu
came to our village inquiring for Mn
Fallon. The following Sabbath, eh
attended church, supporting the old
lady as her son had done before lie
died. She was pale ami delicate
featured, lacking only health and
spirits to be handsome. After that
day, they were always together. It
was Ruth Anneslev. She was very
gentle with Mrs Falfo't—walked slow
ly beside her, chose pleasant paths,
folded her 6hawl carefully about her,
and cared for her in hundreds of
thoughtful ways. If Winsmeede's de
votion to his mother had been pleasant
to see, this was beautiful. A visitor
asked naturally enough, “Are you re
lated to Mrs. Fallon ? ’
h}To,” replied Ruth.
“An old acquaintance, 1 presume.”
“No, I never saw her until I came
here.”
Finally the story came out, that she
went straight to Mrs. Fallon’s house,
on the day o( her arrival, sat down be
side her, took her hand and asked—
"Are y ou Mrs. Fallon?”
“Yes,” w'>8 her reply.
“Did’you knoWinsmeede Fallon ?’
“Winsineede? My boy? I am his
mother—he is dead!”
Both faces quivered ; the \'0BI1S wo
man put her liund to her white .'hio.it,
sank down at the old woman s u ‘ h
and laid her cheek against her hand, as
they groaned piteously together.
"What are you to him? asked Ml.;.
Fallon, as she felt the hot tears drop
heavily into her palm.
Ruth lifted her white face, blanched
by a grief that had never before been
spoken, and answered—"1 would have
been his wile!’’
"Boor thing, poor tiling!” repeated
the mother, stroking her hair and face
tender! v,
From that hour they loved each
other dearly.
Af A minelni' nlwillt 11 Ol* Jl
few pupil*, anil officiated as organist
iu one of the churches. How she play
ed and sang! There was an indescri
bable under current of sadness and
sweetness in every strain. I have
watched, with half-closed eyes, the
glimmering sunlight through the chan
cel window set its gorgeous coloring
nil her (ace and hair, and wished she
might [day on forever, that my dream
of heaven and angels might never end.
To this day, I never hear ‘le Lietuii
Laudanius,’ hut her trail form and deep
lustrous eyes come before me. One
evening I heard her sing, “Nearer, My
God to Thee’—I have felt nearer and
nearer to Him from that hour. She
came down smiling, niWJtp issed out ol
the shadowy church, into the red light
of evening. As she vanished among,
the pines, she sei med a part of the gol
den glory of the day passing Westward
into the night.
CHAPTER IV.
“Destroy, destroy! Leave not a
chimney for a crow to rest upon.”—
[(itnc'iil S/iirrtan U S i.
Mrs. Fallon's house was cm tire! A
white teat flew from lace to face, for
the two women living there alone.
The news spread quickly through the
place, but alas, it had come too late—
we lound only a heap of smouldi ring
ruins, slowly Whitening in the morn
ing sunshine. A lew articles of cloth
ing, a single trunk, and Winsuicede's
picture, were in sight. Close by. Mrs.
Fallon was reclining in a kind of
stupor, with her head resting on Miss.
Anneslev’s lap. Both were iu their
nightdresses. But h’s check was parch
ed red, her hands and arms blistered,
her long, fine hair burned liajf away,
•but she actually smilet. in my tact—
“See, Doctor, we are safe, thunk
God! It is a sad tiling, but we are both
alive,” said she softly, emphasizing
both, and pointing to Mrs. Fallon.
Had she wept hysterically. 1 might
have been more calm, but I turned
away, choking wit., wrath and bitter
ness.
• I fear hcv eyes are injured,” contin
ued she, “You know her sight was tail
ing, and the smoke and flames were
terrible. See, her lashes are burned,
and her cheeks seared dreadfully.''
yjotlimg was 8am oilier own taic»
and beautiful hair, until 1 spoke.
“All, that is a trifle, ’ she answered,
*T can wear it short awhile—Clod has
been very good to me!”
True, God had been good, but 1
thought of those who hud not—she
said not a word aganlst them, and my
bitterness died away unspoken. .Mrs.
FallOn started while we were speaking
of carrying her to a cabin near by.
“Ruth, dear, is it not nearly dawn?”
“Yes, mother, it is day,” answered
Kuth.
Mrs. Fallon held her hands before
her eyes, closer and closer, then drop
ped them heavily, saying, “Ruth, 1 am
blind. ’ Her tone was subdued and
she clasped her hands patiently. Wi
looked at each other, and for ihe first
time I saw Miss Annesley’s eyesjnoisi
with tears. They refused all ii.vita
flans to neighboring homes. Mrs
Fallon said, “l am too old to change
let me stay here.”
-Yes,” added Kuth, “let ns stai
here."
As she spoke her grey, earnest eye
were fixed upon the distatieo. as it sin
were waiting.
“Ah," thought I, “she will wait hen
for some one whom she loves. ’
i However they accepted little kind
nesses gratefully, and before anothe
. night came, were domiciled rude!;
r ruotigh, in a humble cabin former!;
occupied by their servants. Wo tnovei
( Mr*. Fallon there that morning, am
spent the day in making it at least a
sale shelter. Miss. Anneslcy was al
| most merry in their humble home ; site
was here, there and everywhere, help
ing us all with her tittle, busy hands
| and brave spirit. Sim laughed at her
1 scorched, uneven hair, when a lady
held it before her, and with more spirit
than usual, bade her cut oil the rest for
bow-strings for her countrymen. But
the flush died away before night came,
and l saw the effects of exposure and
excitement already, in the slender
frame which held so strong a soul.
Mrs. Fallon was now almost helpless,
and Miss Anfiesley loved her the more
forIferdepetidenee upon her.—Through
the day she toiied lor their support,
and at night kept watch, with her hand
in hers, that the slightest movement
might arose her. Kow tout Mrs. Fal
lon was blind, there was no restraint
upon these constant sacrifices, bho
stinted herself in mod until her eyes,
were sunken and her thin nostrils al
most transparent—in ill ess it. was the
same. 1 saw it all one day when slit*
asked me to prescribe lor her cough.—
blm was neat anil looked well dressed
in anything, for the strip of linen round
her throat was spotless, and she wore
her laded mourning with infinite
grace, but 1 was pained to see her
slu'vering without a shawl, and still
more ‘trieved to see her thin, white
! c | ,'dd her she was killing her
self and rent■mstrated with her; she
promised me to 111016 1111,1 ";,"k
less for Mrs. Fallon's S.'1'6- ihatmghi
1 carried my prescription to '' her cough,
and with it a shawl—but I da.'t'd not
carry it in the house—twice I took > 1,1
bundle in my hand, and as often laid u
back in my buggy. 1 carried it back
to the village w ith rue next day, and
back again by Mi's. Fallon s the tollow
..... . . I ..-I., ! uroe hlt.u itttr tin*
could not hear me, so 1 stole to the
door like a robber, and laid the shawl
on a shelf under the latticed awning.
When we next met I could not look
her in the face—1 had avoided meeting
her. until 1 heard a little girl say, "I
am so glad Miss Ruth has a warm
shawl, she doesn’t shiver with cold
now, when she hears my lesson —then
1 went by to see how they were get
ting along.
‘•Doctor, don’t be afraid that 1 am
angry,” said she kindly, "I am a proud
woman, and kept Ibis shawl a week to
return it, but 1 ntn not ft cold one, loi
I could not pain so good a heart ; 1
tried, but could not wound you in re
. turisifciir kindness—I will'wear it for
your salre."
•For my sake?" The words hurt me
more than jwounds.
IhroughViutcr,spring and summer,
she workcarou, paler and thinner every
day, until the warm days brought a
fluctuating color to In r cheeks, painlul
to see. hhc faded away, but the bird
saug among the flowers and vines hei
hands had trained about the door, and
within, her presence beautified the
humble walls. A feverish restlessness
possessed her, she seemed Ion ver on
the watch, earnestly gazing faraway.
On pleasant evenings she walked to
and fro. in sight of the cabin where the
blind woman eat under the lattice,
talking iu low, endearing diminutives,
to the bird which stirred the hop vine
with his slender feet, and broke the
stillness, with a weird mockery oi
,.verv passage sound. She was Walk
ing thus one evening, when I lilted the
latch of the gate. fcShc turned swiftly
in the path, and almost ran towards
me. with her hand pressed to Iter throat
—it seemed as natural (In re us t lie linen
hand, and scarcely less white. Seeing
me, she tottered where she stood, and
i he blood outlie and went inker face,
like a wild wave slowly rocking itsell
down and down, to rest into the
smooth bosom of the sea. Mir hand
felt like ice in my burning palm when
we met—she did pot explain her man
ner, hut 1 knew it was tile ell'ect ot her ;
failing health, and it - ah, me. she
was one ot’ those victims of love who \
had grief for her portion, away !
CHAfTEH v.
WHO GOES THEKK?
Returning home that night, l ran !
moiinet u n.iitl anil knocked his liilir i
out ol his mouth. 1 apologized, lie
said nothing, tilled his pipe and relit it
Horn my cigar. The light shone on
his tacc—it was haggard, scarred and
thin. IJis eyes met mine vacantly.
Crime or insanity, 1 thought, and hur
ried on, Occupied with my own
thoughts. Once only, I paused and
looked hack at him. The speed ol Ids
heavy, wavering steps increased, he
staggered up the Hill, paused lor an in
stant* and disappeared in the direction
l had come. Such miserable pedes
trians Were common alter the surren
der, so I fell asleep to dream, not 01
him, but Ruth Artilesley. I saw her
choked by a highwayman with a thin
white hand. Roth ol my arms were
lied down—1 could not help her, nor
cry for help—my voice died in my
throat, and the blood tell drop by drop,
from her lips to her bosom, until her
eyes closed, iter head drooped, and she
, fell dead before my eyes 1
CHAPTBlt VI.
THB PKOEST1UAH.
• Ruth first broke the silence which
followed my departure—“Mother, are
• you thinking of Idm?” The soft wither
■ cd hand pressed hers gently. A child
• wind fluttered the curtain and put out.
the light. As Ruth closed t,he wind, w
I she saw a man's figure showed by the
II moon-light on tire ground. Instead ol
tiii»I>I*i<■" the curlimi, slit* 1 "leiM-rt ii
back securely, kind’ <i a light mi tin
hearth, and returned to her plan
There was no sign of nervousness or
fear, save the old movement o plai in.
her hand to her throat, whenever si i
looked lint way.
•■Ruth,” said Mr*. Fallon, “I forget
sometimes, and look for him. When 1
hear a sudden sound, I listen lor In
voice. Wluii the sun shines brightly.
I can tee shadows pass before me—my
heart then leaps up in my throat, and I
lean forward to clasp him in my arm-.’
"I am glad ot that, mother, glad that’
you forget and look for him—1 some
times led that we will meet again.’
“\ye, ill Heaven, dear,’ said Mrs.
Fallon, moving her head slowly, and
clasping her hands in the touching way
that had cynic with her blindness.
••Mother,” began Until, but site grew
excited, and laughed strangely ns she
continued, "1 tun often so glad fora
moment, that 1 want to laugh and
dance and sing. 1 feel that lie lives!
“What did you dream Iasi nighi
when you sobbed beside me, Ruth? .
•■1 dreamed that 1 went to a battle
Held, where women had lifted Oui
Dead and laid them gently down to
rest. These graves were strewn will
flowers. Some kind hand hung u
wreath upon a wooden ero-s by which.
1 lay. Under the wreath i found oui
loved one’s name. Ah. mother, the
brown, cold sod was sweet lo my lips,
and the flowers hung heavy with tny
tears—it makes y ou weep, mother.''
‘Tint speak on, chiid," replied Mrs.
Fallon, “you are so near lo me through
my sou. yoh have loved him so wed!”
Ruth kissed her hand and continued—
..'Vhile 1 lay the re sobbing, with my
aee i.rinsed lo his grave, somethin.
i ...i .i i .I,;. ...
I j i ini m * ..
.above the mound, smiling upon me! i
wept aloud or joy! Tin- sound ul nit
voice awoke me, then the chill hand
crept down on my heart again, and J
drew near to you shivering—it was so
eold ! 1 did not know you were atvake."
•■Yes, deal, when you tell asleep
again, I put my hand on your time to
wipe the tears away, but it was hot and
dry—you do not Weep like other wo
men, Ruth.”
••No, mother, I can seld mi weep, lor
sorrow—when lie comes, t will weep.
Iler ey es wi re on the window again,
as the old lady shook her head and
spoke.; “Ruth, since he died"
The oilier shuddered until her teeth
chattered as it with cold—
"Are you cold, child I”
"No, mother,—say, since he went'
aw ay, please I’’
••Since he went away,”continued the
elder, "1 let I the second childhood
coining oin—you know there is a sec
ond childhood.”
“Yea."
“1 remember fro much of long ago.
not seeing what is passing now, I look
back and live in the old time. What
are you looking tor. Ruth?’
“For him, mother—go on, I IltDlisten
ing. ’
“Are you tired, my daughter?”
“Oh, no! folk, mother—1 should
never grow t.rrd of hearing yo’t'i speak)
of him, or his father, or his little
brother and sisters w ho died—they art
all mine, you know, I love them all.”
"1 was saying, of late days the past
is so clear, and the present dim. I
cannot see my wrinkled i eand hands,
nor my gray Imir, so 1 forget and think
they are soil and fine like yours. Just
so, 1 I urge l to think of Wiiismcedc as
the man he was when In—went away—
he seems la be a little boy again, who
used to climb on the back of my chair,
with his yellow enrls ! r 8 .ng my face.
I feel his little dimpled hands over my
eves, and hear a hild's voice bantering
me to g i -ss Iiis name. My husband
seems to hie inat, as my hoy looked
wl;eu he went away. T)o you tlduk he
was In idsome. Ruth ?”
-Yes, mother -when lie marched in
to Petersburg, barefooted, cold and
hungry, he looked like a prince to me,"
"And you loved him then?”
••Oh. no," said Rmh smiling faintly.
‘•not mini 1 kih-w nun ic uc an nr
seemed I > be.”
"I want to be doing little tilings fol
ium." continued Mrs. Fallon, following
tier train ol thought to tiis boyhood
• Last Christmas l wanted to bang a
little sock by the chimney. 1 waht his
plate hv mine at the table every day—
it is foolish, hut that is the way old agi
routes on—we turn hack id children's
ways.
• Ilia place is always ready,” said
Ruth, "I place a chair for him every
day. He might come, oh, he might
com" I" She spoke vehemently, and
drew a chair close beside her.
‘•Ah, child!” sighed the other, as shr
took the quivering hands between her
own. "Poor thing, poor tiling! It i«
harder for you than for me, for I will
soon be gone!' Ruth s quick ear heard
a step, shi^aid the kind bands tenderly
hack In her lap, and walked to the win
dow, steadying berse'f by the table,
bed, and chairs as she passed them.
Holding both hands against the small
pane of glass and looking fixedly
through them, she saw wleit. seemed to
make sunlight d.iuce out of the depths
of*tho night!—Winmneede stood befor
her!—There was a sound of shivered
ringing glass, as if a burnt tie bad bur.
| led the sash from the casement, and she
fell forward into hie arms. They were
alone. Only the eye of God was upon
i them, and His Holy angels were
sentineled around Unit golden Fand of I
time in silence.
"Wheru are \ on, Ruth!” they heard j
Mis. Fallon say ns she felt her way;
hunt the room.
■ [freak it gently to her, darling!’'
whispered Winsmeede, as he lilted tier
noisiessly within the room.
"Mere, mother!” answered Ruth,
going towards her, hut she turned
hack with stifled weeping to touch his
ace, hands, lips and eyes, to assure
herself'il was no dream.
• I was afraid yon had tainted, child
—did y .u fall ?”
"Yes, hiit 1 am not hurt”—Ruth »
inn w is then around her leading hrt
hack to her chair; hut she. who had
herii so strong, trembled with the
wl ight on her arm.
"You are not strong, dear, are
. on ill ?”
“No. mother, I am so well, and so—"
She checked herself and looked with
.or fond smiling face and shining eyes
it Winsmeede, who stood with his
mind on the door, his foot set forward
is if he would spring to her side.
"Ruth, you are weeping now,” s.-iil
Mrs. Fallon, "what has made you so
glad ?”
"I feel glad," answered she, trenm
ously, still looking towards the door,
•you know how 1 have talked to-night,
how 1 always look and pray and hope
or him to come.”
"Yeg, child.”
"The hoping and praying has made;
me so glad, I am joyouslo-night! And'
ion want me to weep like other wo
men, see here.'’ Ruth pressed her wet.
ace against Mrs. Fallon's check and
hands. “Tears are so sweet, they heal
mi heart, I thank God I can weep at
last!
• it is late, ami you arc feverish,
Kulii—we have talked too long to
night. If he were to conn—if such a
thing could be—
• It can be." interrupted Ruth.
■■ !ittsli, it would kiM you. poor child !”
Kill me! Oil, mother! And you?
How would you bear it?”
"I? ah, me!” Until sprang from her
chair and sank back with her hand at
her throat.
Winsmeede started forwaid, but she
motioned him back again.
• • Wlint is tlie matter. Until?”
•‘I am as glad as— i!'—lie—bad—come !"
inswered she. gasping for breath. “I
want you to pray, mother—let 11s pray
for strength to bear all things the
Father sends. She sank down at Mrs.
Fallon's feet as she had done the first
time they had ever met.
"She has left it 'o God.” thought
Winsmeede. ns he listened with eyes
fixed yearningly on the two who to
him were dearest of all the world.
Mrs. Fallon prayed—Ruth lifted her
head saying "Amen 1”
"Amen I” echoed near them.
"It seemed to me, Ruth, two voices
spake 1”
"So it seemed to me, mother.”
Winsmeede came and laid his head
in Ids mother's lap. She ran her fin
gers swiftly over his face, tracing cacli
feature—then she whispered, "Is this
dying? Ruth, nm I dying? Or have 1
died and met my sou in heaven?”
"Oh no, dear mother, he has cornel ’
"Speak to me, my son!’ Her voice
was very weak, and she shook like one
palsied in his arms—his was scarcely
less low and tender ns lie repented
Ruths words—“Dear mother, he has
conic!'' She lilted her sightless eyes to
Heaven and murmured, while he kissed*
her lace, The lilies have fallen unto'
me in pleasant places, yea, I have a
goodly heritage I" Ruth clung to both
with fond caressing*. Her voice rang
its changes through sobs and laughter,
her little bands were busy, they passed
over an 1 ove • Winsmeede s face, to11■ • 11 -
ed the sear on the temple tenderly— her
lips did (tie same, and she smiled
brightly i3 she wound his empty sleeve
about her throat and nestled against
the rough and faded grey jacket, as it
it were the softest Mechlin lace. The
ipirnest hour nao rom-it away aim “oe
chipped lio;• hands like a happy child
in the roajt light of morning.
chapter vn.
••post Nt ntiA. jrntLA
.They wore married. Three shitting
arcs passed before me. One was old.
wo were voting—all were beantilul.
I he central fl Hire was an angel In a
mist oi floating white. Ilis hand and
hers touched mine—l wished them joy,
sod said—"Ah. Winsineede. my triend.
had you indeed slept in the low thick
ranks sown on the field of glory, you
would stI have been lilest in the love
and grief of such a woman !”
..—
Vai,cable Recipes—A subscriber
isks us to pub.ish live following recipes,
which he v inches to be effectual remedies
lor the complaints named :
For Scratches ns Halls on Horses— A
mixture of wh te lead and oil (common
paint). Fur scratches, wash clean with
castile snap; when dry apply the paint
It never fails with one or two applications.
For scours in Calves or Colts.—One
pint of flour put ;n a strong cloth; pres
to a round bail; tie tight, and drop into ■
kettle of boiling water; boil twu hoe.'
when cold peal off the dough ; and ajia/
off the ball wi’h a knife one tear.ir of
flour, and jut in a pint of new mi’.s
drench with a little. Two do- -
much as I ever give. Prevent - Ive
i dry stable in cold, wet weather
Anecdote ol r -.aiile.
Eugenie w.i« recently w ituessin r a
military review at Rennes, walking
about the field, curious, questioning,
amused sod careless, when, it having
rained >n the morning, all at once,
irreat emotion! tier majesty’s foot
sllppeiWon the wet grass, and there she
was laughing heartily at a slight fall,
although no one around her dared to
smile. She tried to rise; the ground
■dipped away under her little feet. A
general Oi artillery a id commander of
elmsseurs advanced to her assistance,
moved by the same desire, yet kept
back by the same fear; the respect duo
10 the first lady of the land paralyzed
iheir good-will, and they remained
standing, bowing and hesitating, not
daring to toucli their sovereign, who
was still laughing merrily. A minute
passed. A minute in a similar case ia
i century. Then, a foot soldier, who
was holding an officer's horse at soma
little distance, threw! the bridle to a
comrade and bravely approached, one
band doing the military salute and the
"ther stretched toward the empress
with engaging frankness: “Mu sire.”
-aid he, “will you permit me to raise
you up?1’ By this time the emperor,
who had been approaching, on remark
ing tiiis little scene, came up and joined
his laugh with that of the empress,
whom lie raised at once, saying, with
hi air of amicable grumbling: "What
• Inldishues?, Eugenie! You might do
yourself sonic harm!” The French
comic artists dare not use the inviting
i heme.
• <»■♦
Matrimony.
A good wife is the greatest earthly
blessing. A man is what his wife
makes him. It is the mother who
moulds the character and destiny of
the child.
Make marriage a matter of moral
judgment.
Marry into your own religion.
Marry into a different blood and tem
perament from your own.
Marry into a family which you have
long known.
Never talk at one another either
alone or in compauv.
Never botii manifest anger at once.
Never speak loud to one another un
less. tiie house is on fire.
Let each one strive to yield ofteuest
to the wishes of the other.
Let self-abnegation be the daily aim
and effort of each.
The very nearest approach to domes
tic felicity on earth is iu the mutual
cultivation of an abso.ute unselfishness.
Never find fault, unless it is perfectly
certain that a fault has bcgt.i committed ;
and even then prelude it with a kiss,
and lovingly.
Never taunt with a past mistake.
Neglect the whole world besides,
rather than ono another.
Never allow a request to be repeated.
-I forgot” is never an acceptable ex
cuse.
Never part for a day without loving
words to think of during your ab
sceuce ; besides it may be that you will
not meet again in life.
An Inch;i nt in a Palace—A num
ber of e in-'n ■> were gathered one day in
the pnfiejj i Kng Howard Vi of Eng
and, and one of them desiring to obtain
in artiFe that was a little beyond his
reach, thoughtlessly took a large liible front
:he table and step; cu on it. The young
Afing, whose piety was most sincere and
devuout, was dee; ly grieved at thus want of
reverence for God's word flat he loved
the offender, and was unwilling to subject
him o them .r fievtion of a public rebuke,
while he felt that tho offence ought to re
i-e've -attention. He therfhre lifted the
!’ Lie from 'he 9oor with great Care laid it
ci.by on he table, then stdoped over and
erectly kis.-cd it The silent act made
; profound i ..pr*ssion on the c»urtiersy
t. -> n. isteued umny eyes, and the dS'eo
der felt most keenly the tender reproof
conveyed by die monarch. It were well
,f iu all places ami all homes a simslar
reverence were cherished for the word of
God.
BflO'o an ind gent person who was per
petually boasting of bis ancestry, an in
dustrious successful tradesman of humble
origin observed, “You my friend, are
proud of decent, and 1 am proud of uiv
ascent.”
Conundrum.—Q. It is ma le with a
train, it travels with a train it is of no us
to the train, but a train can not travel
without it —A A noise.
An old gentleman whose mu ica
tion is not of the best, has just adverse j
for a bu'cher to supply by Contract la
this manner he hopes anu expeels to get
“tender” meat
Notiiino *.ike Leather.—Wha‘ leg
gings should be made of—Alliyator’i
skies.
ttc£r A • heated imagination” may be
defined to be—dreaming the house is on
fire.
j 'Quick oands"Thesand*oflife,”
! -S so- p “run out."
-*-a
■s'X.’l'he ladies chief amusement—Dor -
acting.
A “Dm a vvmiout' a Name.— An
u.-.“. ;ned w.il