Democratic Sentinel, Volume 3, Number 14, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 May 1879 — Page 4

WOOING BY PROXY.

Stephen Earnshaw was a small tradesman in the village of 8 wallowfl eld. He had the reputation of being a careful, saving man, and people said he had a few hundred in a savings bank. He was tall and handsome, having a massive frame; a torso such as Hercules might have been proud of; huge, brawny arms, more capable of wielding a smith’s hammer than weighing out tea and sugar; his hair was dark brown, and curled. When he smiled, the expression of his face was very sweet, but when he frowned the thunderbolts of Jupiter might be expected. So little did he care about a tradesman’s life that he left the grocer’s business almost entirely to his mother, and betook himself day after day to a little farm, part meadow land, part arable, which he rented in the neighborhood from Mr. Hewitt Langley, tjie owner of most of the landed property thereabouts.

Many girls belonging to the village of Swallowfield were in love with Stephen Earnshaw, but he did not pay them much attention in return for their civil glances. It was just “good evening” and “good morning” with Stephen when he met people; but there was one notable exception, and that was Margaret Minton. Whenever he came across her in the street, he had always a kind word for her, and would fain hold her little hand in his after shaking it, by way of greeting. If she was in a good temper, she let him retain his hold; if not, she snatched it rudely away, with a “How dare you?” uttered in anything but the mildest of tones. It was evident that Margaret did not care much about the good-looking giant, or perhaps she did not know her own mind. If she had given him the least encouragement, he would have proposed at once, but she did not. She smiled upon him one moment, scolded him the next, and turned her back upon him half an hour afterward. Stephen was t n honest fellow, blunt at times, but having a keen perception for all that, and he saw that he was being made a fool of.

Like all men of retiring disposition, he was very sensitive, and he grew angry when he thought that his love was ridiculed by the only girl in the village to whom he had shown any civility, and for whom he had openly evidenced a decided partiality. He saw Margaret in the street one evening in July when he was returning from his work on his farm. She also saw him, but, pretending ignorance of his presence, walked on till his voice arrested her progress. Margaret was taller than most women, very dark, wearing her hair brought severely over her temples, speaking quietly, and sometimes cleverly, following your every movement with her eyes, and only laughing when she had said something to cause pain or annoyance. “Have you left your spectacles at home, Margaret ? ” asked Stephen Earnshaw. “I can see like a cat in the dark, so I do not stand in need of any artificial vision," she replied. “ How was it you did not see me then ? ” “Perhaps I did not want to see you.” “Oh, if that’s how the wind blows, I’ll wish you good-night, and be jogging homeward,” said Stephen, a little nettled, as his rising color showed. “And I will walk a little way with you, Stephen,” she replied smiling, “if ” “If what?” he demanded. “If you won’t tell me that I have lovely hair, and beautiful eyes, and pearly teeth. I have heard it so often that I shall begin to think it true presently." “ I wish I could call you mine, Maggie,” he said.

“But you can’t, Mr. Earnshaw,” she answered. “I have no intention of relinquishing my liberty in any man’s favor. Being one’s own mistress is so charming.” “Has a matrimonial life no charms for you ? ” “At present, none.” “ You know what people say, Maggie,” exclaimed Stephen. “What?” she queried, fixing her great eyes on him. “ That you and I will be man and wife some day.” “ People had better mind their own business, I think,” said Margaret, angrily, while thehot blood flushed her usually pale cheeks. “ Don’t be angry,” he pleaded, as if deprecating her wrath. “I am angry. I don’t like to hear such things repeated. You have no right to annoy me in this way. I am glad we have reached home; and I’m sorry I said I would walk with you.” Before Stephen Earnshaw could make any reply to this torrent, she quickly left his side, and, crossing the road, lifted the latch entering ner mother’s house.

Stephen stood looking after her for some little time; and then, with huge, hasty strides, very different from his usual deliberate walk, made the best of his way to his house, which was situated in the middle of Swallowfield, High street. He found the shop closed, and his mother in the parlor with Annie Ruth-ven-little Annie, the milliner, his friends called her. She presented a great contrast to Margaret Minton, being short, plump and fair; her eyes were not full and impudent, like Margaret’s, though they were lustrous enough at times. Their expression was difficult to grasp. They were deep and cunning; but Annie was a good girl, and a general favorite. She was an orphan, and lived with an aunt, to whose slender resources she contributed by working with her needle. Only herself knew that she had a secret love for Stephen. She had never breathed a word of this love to any one, and dared hardly confess it to herself in the privacy of her own chamber. Both Stephen’s mother and Annie saw in a moment that something had occurred to ruffle his temper. He cast his hat in a corner, and, sitting down before the empty grate, leant his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands. “What’s the matter, Stephen ? ” said Mrs. Earnshaw. “Nothing much, mother; but I don’t like being laughed at!” he replied, bitterly. “Who in this place dare laugh at you? There isn’t a man or boy—” “It isn’t a man at all, mother! ” said Stephen, cutting her short. “Then it’s that Margaret Minton. Who is she, I should like to know, to give herself airs? A trumpery piece of goods—” “It’s no use talking, mother,” he cried, interrupting her again. “Your standing in the river wouldn’t stop the stream, would it?” “I don’t suppose it would.” “Then all your talking won’t make Margaret Minton more civil to me,” he said, with the same bitter air. . “Perhaps I might do something for you with her, Stephen! ” exclaimed Annie Ruthven, who had sat all the time as silent as a mouse. “You!” he said, in surprise. Yes. I may be very silly and insignificant; but Margaret and I are great friends. I help her make dresses, and I will give her any message from you, but

yon must tell me to-night, for lam going soon." “Going. Where? "he asked. “To service,” replied Annie.. “I am tired of being here. I must go into the world, and try to make my way.” “Well, I wish you luck, I’m sure, Annie,” exclaimed Stephen Earnshaw, heartily; adding, “you doyour beet for me with Margaret, and I’M give you a dance in the barn at the back of our house before you go.” “It’s a bargain!” cried Annie, clapping her hands delightedly. In reality, Annie Ruthven was delighted to hear that Stephen Earnshaw was not in favor with Margaret. “Oh,” she thought, “if he would only love me as he loves her, what would I not do for him ? His every wish should be anticipated. I would live for him alone. He is so handsome, so good and so fond of his home.” Her little heart fluttered as she thought of what the future might bring forth. If Margaret remained obdurate, Stephen Earnshaw might look favorably upon her. A miracle, though, must be worked, she thought, before the handsome Stephen could fall in love with her. Was she not going to service? Would she not be miles away instead of living close to him, and enjoying his society, while visiting his mother. She now rgretted having made up her mind to go into the world, but, having arrived at such a determination and made it generally known, she could not very well cancel it. The next day she looked in upon Margaret about tea-time, ostensibly to show her a dress she had finished for the doctor’s wife, but really to talk about Stephen. Margaret admired the dress, and said, “I wish I were a lady, to be able to have a dress for evesy day in the year.” “That would be extravagant,” laughed Annie. “Would not every week in the year content you ?” “Yes, or every month; but there is no chance even of the latter,” said Margaret with a sigh. “ Why not marry Stephen Earnshaw ?” said Annie, in a voice that tremUed in spite of her. “He has never asked me,” she replied. “He has done almost as good, though, hasn’t he?” “I can scarcely tell, my dear. I like a man to have the courage to say what he means,” answered Margaret. “Some men are timid, Margaret,” continued Annie. “They do not like to expose themselves to a rejection. I have heard of high-souled, generous men, whose pride would be terribly mortified if women had the power to go about and say that they had refused them.” “ What’s Stephen Earnshaw to you that you should talk about him to me ?” asked Margaret. “Nothing—only—” She hesitated, and paused abruptly. Her face became crimson; and if Margaret did not read her secret then, she was either preoccupied or duller than the average run of women. “What—only what—” said Margaret, looking intently at her. “ I don’t like to see him treated badly when he really loves you,” replied Annie Ruthven, summoning all her courage to her aid. “ The next time he wants to woo me,” exclaimed Margaret, laughing heartily, “tell him to come himself, and not send a gossiping girl, who would be better employed in staying at home and minding her work.” Annie felt hurt at this, and, muttering something about “obstinate people dying old maids,” left the room without a word of good-by or apology. She did not report her ill-success to Stephen. He saw it in her face and manner, and asked no questions. As the time for Annie’s departure drew near, he kept his promise about the dance, and, hiring Kirk, the village fiddler, had the bam swept out and lighted up well. The barn faced the road leading to Wedgebury, the seat of Mr. Hewitt Langley, and presented quite a merry appearance when the company were assembled.

All the mutual friends of Stephen and Annie had been invited, Margaret among the number. The fiddler strusk up several inspiriting airs, and all was gayety and hilarity. Suddenly it came on to rain heavily. This made no difference to those inside, though it did to a solitary traveler, who, feeling uncomfortably wet, looked up anxiously at the light streaming through the half-open door of the barn. Advancing toward it, he resolved to ask for a temporary shelter, and stepped into the barn. Stephen Earnshaw was the first to see him. A smile crossed his face, as he extended his hand. "You are very welcome, sir,” he said. “Excuse me,” replied the stranger; “I should not have been so rude as to intrude upon your privacy had I not been caught in the rain. Now lam here, may I be permitted to join in the festivities?” “Certainly,” replied Stephen. The new-comer was Mr. Hewitt Langley, who was on his way home when the rain began. He was a most gentlemanly man, and deservedly beloved by all who lived on the estate and in the adjacent villages. He had given Stephen a long lease of the little farm he rented, and helped him materially in a few improvements he had carried out. His first act was to give a man a sovereign, and desire him to bring in a fresh supply of beer and spirits, then he looked at the girls, who were all in a flutter of expectation as to whether he would dance or not. " Stephen Earnshaw had been very civil to the Squire, but he was secretly annoyed at his arrival, for he was a fascinating young fellow, who had been in the army, dressed to perfection, and was the sort of a man who would turn the heads of halfa dozen rustic beauties. Going up to Margaret, Stephen said, in a half whisper, “ Will you dance with me, Margaret?” “Not just now,” she replied. “I want you to,” he persisted. “I can’t help that. I’m my own mistress now, whatever I may be some day.” She turned away, and he, following the direction of her eyes, saw that her glance rested on Squire Langley. Stephen walked away abruptly. The Sq'iire met him. “ Who’s that tall, fine girl you were speaking to, Earnshaw? ” he said. “ She lives in the village,” replied Stephen, artfully avoiding a direct answer. “Will you introduce me to her? I should like to ask her to dance.” With a very ill-grace, Stephen said, “ I suppose I must.” “ What do you mean by that?” exclaimed Mr. Langley. “ I hope my innocent request has not offended you.” “ Not at all,” replied Stephen. “ Is the girl anything to you ? ” “She might be, but she isn’t,” said Stephen morosely. “ Oh, that is all right. So long as Ido not arouse any jealous feelings, I ” “Never you mind, Squire!” cried Stephen, with a forced laugh. “If you like the girl, you can dance with her, and marry her, too, if you have a mind 1” Mr Langley was about to make some comment on this remarkable speech, when Stephen seized him by the arm, and drew him towards Margaret. “Here, Margaret!” he exclaimed, in

a loud voice. “I’ve brought you a partner r “For life!” she said, with a peculiar smile. “That remark is rather premature,” said Mr. Langley. “I like to tease Stephen,” she answered, as Earnshaw strode away, with a dark scowl. The fiddler struck up a waits, and, without another word, Mr. Langley grasped her firmly by the waist, and whirled her round and round in a giddy maze. "Stephen leant against the wooden wall of the bam, and did not know that Annie was close to him until she spoke. “ Margaret is not treating you well,” she said. “What makes you think so?” he asked, being in a contradictory mood. “I am not blind, Stephen,” she replied. “I wish I was blind and deaf, too!” he said, wildly. There was a pause, which he broke, saying: “So you aie going to service, my little Annie?” “Soon,” she replied. “Too soon.” “Why?” she asked, casting down her eyes. “I don’t know exactly, I was thinking you might have heard of something to your advantage here,” he said, hesitatingly. “I think I shall get on better in London,” Annie said. “No one cares for me here. I may get a husband in town; and that, you know, Stephen, is the end of every woman’s ambition.” “Is’t?” he replied, shortly. Presently he asked her to dance, and, she consenting, they were soon in the midst of it.

The bam floor was not very good for dancing. The wood had been worn away in many places by the action of the flails used for threshing purposes. Stephen Earnshaw danced until Annie had scarcely any breath left; but she was so happy in being so near Stephen that she did not complain. All at once, the flooring gave way in a particular spot, and Stephen fell through a depth of about a foot. He was not hurt; but Annie, in falling with him, sprained her ankle. “Are you hurt?” asked Stephen, extricating her and himself fron? their unpleasant position. “A little,” she replied, faintly. “Where? Your foot? Sit down on this chair,” he said, handling her gently, and bestowing a brotherly attention upon her. The music stopped, and the dancers congregated round Annie, who suffered some pain. But, though a twinge would now and then cross her features, she bore it bravely. “ She had better be taken home,” said some one. Stephen acted upon the suggestion by taking Annie up in his arms like a baby, and saying he would carry her home.

The rain had now ceased, and the moon and stars were shining brightly. Stephen bore his burden safely home, and soon deposited Annie on the sofa. Hot water was applied, and she was put to bed by her friends, who thanked Stephen for his trouble. Margaret danced all the evening with Mr. Langley, much to the annoyance of Stephen, who was furious. He renewed his former attempt to induce her to dance with him; but she shook her head, saying, “No, no—thank you! I prefer a more skillful partner. Annie Ruthven may like your polite attention; but I should consider if dearly purchased at the price of a sprained foot.” Stephen went away, convinced that she was jealous because he had danced with Annie. Of course it was impossible for Annie to proceed to London to look for a situation ; and she often wondered, as she lay on the sofa, whether she really should hear of something to her advantage by remaining longer in Swallowfield. She heard that Margaret and Mr. Langley had met more than once, and that they had actually taken a walk together. Stephen came to see her very frequently; and she could tell from his manner that the rumors current respecting Mr. Langley and Margaret had reached his ear. “ It is a long time since you and Margaret were out together,” Annie remarked one day. “How long?” he asked. “Nay, I know not. It is for you to tell,” replied Annie. “ Better late than never,’’ he said. “ If I were a man, Stephen,” Annie continued, “ I should not care about a woman who lets every one know that she does not care for me.” “ What is the difference between such a one and one who never loses a chance of indirectly telling a man that she loves him ? ” he demanded, turning round almost fiercely upon Annie. She made no answer. “Do you see Margaret now?” he went on. “ She comes here,” was Annie’s guarded reply. “ Give her a message from me—will you ? ” “ Half a dozen, if you like. What shall I say ? ” “ Tell her to meet me, and take a walk, next Sunday.” “Oh!” ejaculated Annie. “ Your foot hurts you! ” he said, with some solicitude. “ It does occasionally,” replied Annie. But it was not her foot that troubled her. She felt a pang when he spoke of meeting Margaret. “ You will see her, and give her my message?” asked Stephen. “ Yes,” she rejoined, laconically. “ And let me know her reply ? ” “ I will write.” Stephen was satisfied with this reply, and thanked Annie, who appeared absorbed in thought. The young man was opening the door for a reconciliation. What should she do ? A renewal of amicable relations between Stephen Earnshaw and Margaret Minton would be fatal to all Annie’s cherished hopes and dearlypetted visions.

She would most decidedly not hear of anything to her advantage if that took place. Annie had not spoken truly when she said that Margaret came to see her. Margaret had not once been near her since her accident; but the day after the conversation with Stephen, greatly to her surprise, dropped in. “Oh, it is you, dear!” exclaimed Annie. “I came to inquire how your foot was,” said Margaret. “Much better, thanks; but not nearly well yet. You are quite a stranger.” “I have been much engaged,” Margaret answered,with some embarrassment; adding, “How is Stephen ?” “I never saw him better. He was here yesterday, laughing and talking ” “What did he say?” “He was talking about the fancy he once had for you, dear,” said Annie. “Fancy!” repeated Margaret, turning very pale. “ Yes, dear,” replied Annie, who was overwhelmingly kind, “ that was what he called it. He said, too, he had heard of your going about with the Squire, and hoped you would come to no harm, as he had once cared a great deal for you.” Margaret bit her lips till the blood came. “ He added, dear, that he would make

the bell-ringers a present of a pound apiece when he heard of your marriage, as he still had some little regard for you, in spite of your treatment of him.” “ If he had such remarks to make, it is a pity he did not come to me and make them!” said Margaret, who could not keep back the tears which sprung to her eyes. “You must admit, dear, that you have been to blame.” “I admit nothing of the sort. I can do better than Stephen Earnshaw any day of the week.” Margaret tossed her head, and turned to go. Every one of Annie’s malevolent shafts had hit its mark, but she still pretended io be overfloaring with the milk of human kindness. “I am very sorry for you, dear,” she added. “I really did not think you would feel it so much.” “I do not feel it,” cried Margaret, “and it is wicked ofryou to say such a thing. If you want the man, and he will have you, you can take him, for what I care.” “Z want him!” said Annie, in a tone of the utmost surprise; “my dear Margaret, what could have put that idea in your head ?” “Oh, I can see! When I marry, you can be sure of one thing.” “What is that, dear?” asked Annie, looking calm and innocent. “I won’t have a man who has been refused by any other woman.” With this parting shot, Margaret took her departure. Envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness were, however, gnawing at her heart. Annie Ruthven did not feel the pain her wounded foot occasioned her. She was too pleased to think of anything but the triumph she had gained over Margaret. Try as hard as she would, she could not help hating Margaret, because Stephen Earnshaw had loved her and cared for her, even after the bad treatment he had received at her hands. Her next task was to make more mischief, and keep Margaret and Stephen effectually apart. So she wrote a brief note to Stephen saying in it: Deab Stephen : I have done all I can for yon with Margaret. She is hard-hearted and cruel When I spoke of your sufferings, and your Jove for her, she only smiled, and spoke of the Squire, with whom she is evidently infatuated. In conclusion, she told me to let yon know that she never had liked you, and cared for you less than ever. Do not give way to grief. Come to me, and let me comfort you. Such a woman as Margaret ought to inspire, not sorrow, but contempt. Yours, as ever, A. R.

When Stephen received this, his hopes were attacked by a death-blow. He had fancied that Margaret would relent at the eleventh hour, and that she was, in reality, only indulging in a harmless flirtation with Mr. Langley. At first, he vowed to be revenged on the Squire; but, when his reason and his common sense came to his aid, he saw that he really had nothing to complain of. Margaret had not promised to marry him, so that the Squire had not robbed him of her affections.

Half distracted, he sought Annie, to have the full particulars of her interview with Margaret. This course, as it may be imagined, did not tend to increase his quietude. Margaret had an appointment with the Squire on the very evening that she called upon Annie, and listened to the falsehoods she poured into her ears. Her object in visiting Annie was to find out whether there was any chance of receiving forgiveness from Stephen for the way in which she had behaved to him. If Annie had told her the truth, she would have spoken very differently to Mr. Langley than she did. The trysting spot was an aged oak in a central part of Mr. Langley’s park. He was leaning against the trunk of the tree as she came up. He grasped her hand heartily, and, in a low, thrilling voice, which told how much he loved her, said, “Thanks, darling, for your kindness in meeting me ! Have you arranged in your own mind what you will do ?” “I have, Mr. Langley,” she replied. “Pray do not keep me in suspense! ” he exclaimed.

“You have offered to marry me,” she said, “and I accept your offer.” Scarcely had the words escaped her lips than he caught her in his arms, and kissed her tenderly again and again. When his transport of joy was over, he exclaimed, “You are lovely and ladylike, and, I am persuaded, will grace the station in which I shall place you.” “Let one thing be fuh|r understood between us,” said Margaret, whose manner was very cold, hard and stern: “I cannot give you the full amount of virgin love which you may, perhaps, expect —for I have loved another.” “Another!” replied Mr. Langley. , “It can be no secret to you. Although Stephen Earnshaw once was master of my heart, he has, by his conduct, erased his image from it. I did not, until late ly, know how much I love! him. That, however, is a dream of the past. Forgive my candor. I will do all that lays in my power to prove myself a good, affectionate and dutiful wife, and show that I am grateful for the high honor you intend doing me.” The Squire kissed her again, assuring her that he would take his chance of healing her heart-wound; but, if love on his part should do it, such love would not be found wanting. The news of Margaret’s good fortune was soon all over the village of Swallowfield. The marriage day was fixed, and the ceremony was to take place in three weeks’ time. Annie Ruthven did not, in the least, envy Margaret her luck in catching the Squire, provided she could secure her heart’s idol. Time glided by. Stephen was not seen much about. He had never been a frequenter of pub-lic-houses. Sometimes Annie saw him, and then he smiled upon her, and called her “little pet,” and “his gentle Annie.” The day before that appointed for Margaret’s marriage with the Squire, Stephen called upon Annie, whose sprained foot was getting much better. She sat up in an arm-chair, and could hobble about with the aid of a stick. “I’ve been thinking, Annie,” he said, taking a seat near her. “Indeed!” she replied. “Have you made any scientific discovery by doing “Not that I am aware of. It’s just this. If other people are going to be married to-morrow, why should not we?”

“We, Stephen! Do you mean vou and I?” “Certainly I do.” “How do you know I will have you?” Annie said. “It is like your impudence to suppose such a thing.” “Won’t you have me, Annie?” he asked lovingly. “Do you really mean it, Stephen? ” “As heaven hears me, I do! Marriage is much too sacred a thing to jest about. I can get a special license, and we can be married to-morrow.” “Then I am yours, Stephen!” replied Annie. He did not kiss her; he merely patted her on the head, and said, “That, is a good girl! We will be married tomorrow.” And from this Annie knew that he was going to marry her out of spite. . This was not very flattering to her vanity; but he would be her husband, and that was all she cared about. - Early in the morning the bells began to ring, announcing this double wed-

ding, which had taken the village by When the bell-ringers stopped to take a spell of rest, they made a few remarks about Margaret and the Squire, Stephen and Annie Ruthven. Stephen waaat Annie’s house betimes. She had made herself look as well as she could in the short time that had been accorded her. As her foot was not yet quite well enough to allow her to walk a fly was ordered. While waiting for its arrival, Annie, overflowing with love and admiration for the man so soon to be her husband, said, “You have made me so happy, dearest.” “Do you love me, little Annie?” he asked, fondly caressing her. “Do I? Can yon ask? I would have done a thousand times more than I have to win you,” she replied, incautiously. “Done!—what have you done?” he cried, suspiciously. “You will forgive me if I tell you, will you not?” “Of course!"replied Stephen Earnshaw, dryly. If Annie Ruthven had been wise, she would have remarked his look and manner ; but the fit of infatuation was upon her. “I deceived you about her real sentiments. The letter I wrote contained nothing but falsehoods, and I poisoned her mind against you,” said Annie. “You did this?” he exclaimed, frowning darkly. “Yes—no—that is! Oh, Stephen, do not look so dreadfully at me! What have I done ?” cried Annie, in alarm. “Not much harm, thank Heaven! Though you might have embittered the lives of two persons.” She got up and clung to him, but he pushed her away. z “ Stephen,Stephen!” she shrieked; “do not thrust me away from you! I cannot bear it! Your looks alarm me! You will kill me if you are unkind! ” Stephen looked at his watch. “ It is not yet too late,” he muttered. “ Too late ? ” echoed Annie; “ too late for what? Speak to me, Stephen, or I shall go mad! Your manner is so strange! ” “No time is to be lost!”he said, in the same tone. He strode toward the door. Annie followed him. Again she threw her encircling arms round him, and entreated him, in heartrending tones, to speak to her. He repulsed her rudely, and she fell heavily against a chair, becoming partially insensible. Stephen ran for his life. When he reached the street, he had not gone far before he saw the bridal procession coming from the Hall. He stood in the roadway, and stopped the carriage containing the bride. Instantly all was commotion and amazement. He was surrounded by a confused crowd, in which he only saw Margaret, sitting statuesque and pale, more resembling a victim proceeding to the stake than a bride going to the altar. “Margaret!” he exclaimed, “I must speak to you! ”

“It is too late! ” she murmured. Her voice was so low that he could scarcely catch the words; but when he saw her livid lips moving he bent forward and listened, because he knew she was speaking. “This obstruction, sir, is unwarrantable ! ” said Mr. Langley, who came up to his side. “Not quite,” replied Stephen, calmly. “Allow me one minute, and I will molest you no further.” “Is it your wish that it should be so ? ” said Mr. Langley to Margaret. She hesitated. “For the sake of old times! ” urged Stephen. Then she inclined her head affirmatively. “Margaret,” said Stephen, in a hurried voice, “we have been deceived by a traitress. Annie has just confessed that she poisoned your mind, while she systematically misrepresented you, and set me against you.” “Did—did you not hate me?” gasped Margaret. “I loved you most passionately; and you—did you feel for me the aversion I have been led to ” • “No, no! Heaven forgive the wicked creature for her cruel work!” cried Margaret. “She knew you were not indifferent to me.”

Having said this, which, even at that solemn and peculiar hour, was a confession of love, Margaret fell back in the carriage and burst into tears. “Can you wonder at my coldness, after receiving a letter like that?” he continued, showing her Annie’s epistle. Mr. Langley had listened to all this with a sensation nearly amounting to stupor. He saw at once that this reconciliation at the eleventh hour would prove an invincible barrier to his marriage with Margaret. With characteristic generosity, he immediately exclaimed, “After what I have heard, I cannot claim the fulfillment of Margaret’s promise; consequently,! absolve her from it, if she should prefer you, Mr. Earnshaw, to me.” “ Oh, how can I thank or repay you ?” cried Margaret, who felt deeply grieved for him. “Travel, and perpetual change of scene, have cured deeper wounds than mine,” he replied, with a harsh, discordant laugh. The procession did not go on to the church, but a week afterward an unostentatious cavalcade drew up at the porch, and Stephen Earnshaw made Margaret his wife. . Stephen paid the bell-ringers a pound apiece; but Squire Langley was far away when the bells rang out, yet he made the bride a most costly wedding present. Annie’s plotting recoiled upon herself. Her mind gradually gave way beneath her severe disappointment; and she may now be seen wandering about the streets of Swallowfield with a mind hopelessly obscured. Sometimes a lady and gentleman stop to speak to her. She laughs idiotically, and does not know that she is confronted by Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw.

Personal Appearance of St. Paul and the Savior.

M. Mezieres’ donbt of the authenticity of M. Renan’s description of the personal appearance of St. Paul appears to have set the Paris bookworms at work delving among the works of the early church fathers. The result is not only the justification of Renan, but a good many curious discoveries, of which the following are perhaps the most notable. St. Clement, of Alexandria, thus sketches the Savior: “Jesus had no beauty of face; his person offered no physical attractions; he only possessed beauty of soul, which is the true beauty.” * St. Irenaeus, a disciple of St. Poly carp, who was a disciple of St. John, wrote that his master had often heard the beloved disciple say that the hair of Jesus had already turned white when he began his mission.”

A German physician has demonstrated that early rising is a very bad habit. He has taken the trouble to collect information as to the habits in thia respect of several persons who have lived to an advanced age; and he finds that in the majority of the cases the long livers have indulged in late hours.

Wood, Taber & Morse, Eaton, N. Y.— Portable Engines.

Messrs. Wood, Taber & Morse, of Eaton, Madison county, N. Y., are the oldest manufacturers of portable steam engines in the country, and, for the past twenty-five years, have stood where they stand to-day—at the head of this great industry. They have made the construction of their engines a study from a scientific as well as a practical point of view, and, as a consequence, have produced the most complete and effective engines ever put on the market for portable purposes. Their agricultural engines are especially adapted to the work for which they are designed, and have found steadily-increasing favor in the eyes of the agriculturists throughout the country. The necessity for the use of steam upon farms of any magnitude is daily becoming more manifest, and its use for different purposes grows more general with each succeeding season. Here, as everywhere else, steam is a great economizer, and its savings can be felt directly and counted up to the penny. The experience, reputation and known responsibility of Messrs. Wood, Taber & Morse guarantee to all purchasers of their engines full value for price given, which is covering the entire bill. They have every facility for producing the finest engines, and they do it. Every engine is carefully tested in parts, and then as a whole, and the guarantee of the firm is never put to inferior work. Their work is all of the one grade, and that the best. For the present season, they have added new and desirable features to their engines, and have placed them more than ever in the advance of their competitors. These engines are at work in every section. of the country, and are giving, in all instances, the highest satisfaction. Descriptive price-lists may be obtained by addressing as above.

There is a lad in Machiasport, Me., who ought to have a future. He is not more than 5 years old, and yet has already succeeded in having a father, a mother, a grandfather, two grandmothers, two great-grandfathers, three great-grandmothers, and one great-great-grandmother—all alive.

Traveling Is Extra-Hazardous

If the tourist is unprovided with some medicinal resource. Changes of temperature, food and water of an unaccustomed or unwholesome quality, and a route that lies in the tropics or other regions where malaria exists, are each and all fraught with danger to one who has been improvident enough t > neglect a a remedial safeguard. The concurrent testimony of many voyayeurs by land and sea establishes the fact that Hostetter’s Stomach Bitters enables those who use it to encounter hazards of the nature referred to with impunity ; and that, as a medicine adapted to sudden and unexpected exigencies, it is peculiarly valuable. Disorders of the liver, the bowels and the stomach, fever and ague, rheumatism and nervous ailments, brought on by exposure, are among the maladies to which emigrants, travelers and new settlers are most subject These and others yield to the action of the Bitters promptly and completely.

Caught at Last.

The notorious depredator Kate-Arrh, who has for so many years eluded the most accomplished and skillful detectives, has been caught at last in Buffalo, N. Y. For further particulars, ask your druggist for a bottle of Dr. Sage’s Catarrh Remedy, admitted to be the best remedy for catarrh yet compounded. Though They May Obstinately Resist the action of other external remedies, ulcers containing proud flesh, swellings, tumors, leprous granulations and scrofulous .sores speedily heal under the purifying and soothing influence of Henby’s Carbolic Salve, the promptest and niost efficient topical application ever discovered or us ed. It is believed that there is no chronic sore or eruption that may not be eradicated by this incomparable purifier. Sold by all Druggists. After you have tried nearly everything to get cured of Chronic Chills and ’Fever or Fever and Ague in vain, we would advise you to try Dr. F. Wilhoft’s Anti-Periodic or Fever aud Ague Tonic. It is not pleasant to take, but it contains no Quinine, and never fails to cure. Its composition is printed on the inside wrapper of each bottle, and it is indorsed by the most eminent physicians. For sale by all Druggists.

CHEW The Celebrated “ Matchless ” Wood Tag Plug Tobacco. The Pioneer Tobacco Company. New York, Boston and Chicago A neglected cough, cold, or eore throat which might be checked by a simple remedy, like “ Brown's Bronchial Troches," if allowed to progress may terminate seriously. 25 cents. Everyone who thinks of buying an organ should road a circular headed “Useful Information for Purchasers of Parlor or Cabinet Organs.” A postal card addressed to the Mason & Hamlin Organ Co. will bring one, free. The great Meredith stock sale, where fiftyfive head of short-horn cattle will be sold, takes place Wednesday, June 18th, at Cambridge City, Ind. Drunkenness: Dr. D’Unger, discoverer of the Cinchona remedy, cures all cases. Palmer House, Chicago. Send for free pamphlet The Mendelssohn Piano Co., No. 21 East 15th Street, N. Y., sell Pianos at Factory Pi ices. Write for a catalogue. • Bridget says she would rather have one of Mann’s Tin-Rim Sieves than four wood-rim, as it lasts so much longer. Chew Jackson’s Beat Sweet Navy Tobacco. Smoke Pogue’* “Sitting Bull Du rham Tobacco."

THE MARKETS.

NEW YORK. Beeves ~sß 76 @lO 60 Hogs 3 50 @ 4 10 Cotton 12?4 Flour—Superfine 3 25 @ 4 25 Wheat-No. 2 96 @ 1 16 Corn—Western Mixed 44 @ 45 Oats—Mixed 33 @ 34 Rye—Western 67 @ 58 Fork—Mess 8 75 @ 9 00 Lard 6 @ 6J4 CH CAGO. Beeves—Choice Graded Steers.... 475 @ 6 25 Cows and Heifers 300 @ 4 25 Medium to Fair 430 @ 4 45 Hogs 275 @ 360 Flour—Fancy While Winter Ex... 525 @5 60 Good to Choice Spring Ex. 3 75 @ 4 60 Wheat—No. 2 Spring 95 @ 96 No. 3 Spring 77 @ 79 Corn—No. 2 33 & 34 Oats—No. 2 24 @ 25 Rye—No. 2 47 @ 48 Barley—No. 2 69 @ 70 Butter—Choice Creamery 15 @ 17 Eggs—Fresh 9 @ 9% Pork—Mess ; 8 10 @ 9 36 Lard. MILWAUKEE. Wheat—No. 1 98 @ 1 02 No. 2 93 @ 94 Corn—No. 2 33 @ 84 Oats—No. 2 24 @ 25 Rye—No. 1 46 @ 47 Barley—No.2 69 @ 60 ST. LOIIIS. Wheat—No. 2 Red Fall 104 @lO6 Corn—Mixed 33 @ 84 Oats—No. 2 26 @ 27 Rye 47 @ 48 Pork—Mess 960 @ 975 Lard CINCINNATI. Wheat 1 00 @ 1 06 Corn 37 @ 38 Oat« 28 @ 81 Rye 55 @ 56 Pork—Mess 975 @lO 00 Lard 6 TOLEDO. Wheat—Amber Michigan... 1 07 @ 1 08 No. 2 Red 106 @117)6 Corn—No. 2 36 @ 37 Oats—No. 2 28 @ 29 DETROIT. Flour—Choice 5 00 @ 600 Wheat—No. 1 White 1 C 3 @ 1 04 No. 1 Amber 1 01 @1 03 Corn—No. 1 38 @ 39 Oats—Mixed 28 @ Barley (per cental) 1 00 @ 1 65 Pouk—Mess 10 00 @lO 25 EAST LIBERTY, PA. Cattle—Best 5 00 @ 6 15 Fair 450 @ 4 90 Common 4 00 @4 25 Hogs 3 50 & 385 Sheep 825 @ 5 25

®*7 ty » Mourn ana expense* guaranteed to Agent*. w 4 6 Outfit free. Shaw A Co.. Augusta. Maine. <11777 A YEAR and expenses to agent*. Outfit Free. 9111 Addre** P. O. VICKERY, Augusto, Maine. A SK your Druggist or Storekeeper for OSMVN’S A «lAKMH<EA KEM EBY. It ia tbe BEST. VOUNC ■ month. Every graduate guaranteed a paying situation. Addree* R. Valentine, Manager, JaneeviMe, Wia. ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■Charlestown, Mm*.

I i-. 1 wiT'iT kF? M fl-J Bt* j' 1 ‘ M A < ■~iVwflß BAG ER TH Fsl jSSiM n i ifn mm-aiMr"-

VASELINE. GrailMedalattliePlillaielpliiaEißositiGii SILVER MEDAL AT THE PARIS EXPOSITION. Tbe most valuable family remedy known for the treatment of wound*, burns, sores, out*, skin diseases, rheumatism, chilblains, catarrh, hemorrhoids, etc. Also, for coughs, colds, sore throat, croup and diphtheria, etc. Used and approved by the leading physicians of Europe and America. . _ „ The toilet articles made from pure Vaseline—such as POMADE, COLD CREAM, CAMPHOR ICR and TOILET SOAPS—are superior to any similar ones. Try THEM. COLGATE & CO., Sole Agents, 25 and 50 cent sizes of all our goods. Sold by all Druggists. I- O' O' F ' a dSjT miMf Wl MR WW K ' ofP ' u m tg Aw !• o. a t. ■ B Ma K-ofH-A 0 U.W. nwßrvFSVwTOV.irrrrw imr Beil Ulen, nrtihla, and all other Societies I made to order by M.C. Lilley A Co., Columbus, k Ohio. Senft for Frier T.lats. Military ani Firemen's Goods. Banners & Place Tiniiriittiu Vlrrt Established I Most Successful I THEIR INSTRUMENTS hav* a standard value in all the LEADING MARKETS OF THE WORLD! Everywhere recognized as the VINES* IN TONE. OVER 80,000 Made and in nse. New Designs constantly. Best work and lowest price*. 49* Send for a Catalogue. bant St, opp. Tita A, Borin, Xut IBHM For- Two Generations The good and staunch old stand-by, MEXICAN MUSTANG LINIMENT, has done more to assuage pain, relieve suffering, and save the lives of men and beasts than all other liniments put together. Why! Beeause the Mustang penetrates through skin and flesh to the very bone, driving out all pain and soreness and morbid secretions, and restoring the afflicted part to sound and supple health. An Infallible and unexcelled remedy to, Fite, Epilepsy «r Falling Hieknes*. Warranted to effect • apeedy anc ■ W renowned Specific and > ■ ■ JW valuable Treattee cent t« ■ ■ EE any sufferer sending me bh ■ ■ Postoffice and Express ad dress. ©fc H. G. BOOT. 183 Pearl Street. New York.

AWNIN6SI TOTS ! wiiAl A IMVWIIfI Urinary Di*»*s**. IlTnhß « W A flAfllfll* nence and Retention ot Urine, In(•nuMNHUMM? MM* Loss of A ppet i te THE NEW YORK SUN. WEEKLY SUN is araptaMeaHy the »• T>OWKRFUL TELEPHONE MAGNETS. Sfic. esob; X Diaphragm*, 10c. Tkl. Mag. Co., M.rcha nt rille, NJ. Tjirf’.KßT $25 to 83,000 judiciously InveetedTn Wall Street lan the foundation for sabstontial fortune* every week, and yield* an immense |«rcentoge of proflte by the New Capitalization System of operatingfa Stock«. Full explanation on application to ADAMS, BROWN A CO.. Banker*, SSI *a Broad St.. N. Y City. WARWE« BRO'S BORSkIS Ma .rm /iff JKmV receivedthe HlghrM Mwlbl m th* i iiffW PARIS EXPOSITION ever nil Anirrinm ThHr W FLEXIBLE HIP CORSET HUrr/JSw U'JQbonr.C, Isl WAMBANTKD »•<>» tc hrvaM ♦ /zFr® down over tha hit*-. Trit** ♦!.?*•. Their as Iliff HI 111 and flexible end co nt wins no f iul Iff Iff I | Prk<B by mall, |l.M* Xi Iff /// 1 Jr F«r by all laadln K merchant*. WABWBB 8808., 161 Broadway, K. T. The Gospel of Joy. THE GOSPEL OF JOY unusual beauty for Gospel Meetings, Camp Meetings. Devotional Meetings and Sunday School*. By Rev. Samvel Alman and 8. H. Speck. It contain* a large number of new and very superior Hymn* •ndTnnes. The general style 1* very cheerful and bright, as befit* a collection that ba* *o much to say and sing about “ Glad Tiding* of Great Joy.” Both word* and music are of an elevated character, commending themselves to person* of refined taste, and the “dancing measure” so prevalent in many recent compositions h >s been carefully avoided. Price 35 eta., for which specimen copies will be mailed to any address. See Decoration Day Music in the Musical Record, Co. GOOD NEWS! sand* of friends. Do not f*U to examine and try IL There are 270 Bongs, in the composition or selection of which great taste and ability ha* been displayed Examine also “Shining River" and “The River of Life," two standard l>ooks of great beauty. OLIVER DITSON A CO., Boston. C. ll.Dltaon&Co., J. JE. Dltsos* «kCo„ 843 Broadlway,N.Y. Chestnut Bi.. Phlla. NOW TO OtT THEM Is tk« test part es the stat*. d.000.0e0 •x •• 1 " i K •*•*>■« Heme, ■tend,” address 8. J. Gilmore, Laud Con'r, Balias, Kaassa ■VOUNG MAN. ATfENTiO.N i-biTB,"X. GAST’S X wonderful HAIR AXD HEARD GEXEJL ATOM will positively produce a luxurious growth of HAIR or BKARD in BIX WEEKS or money refunded. 1 pkg. 50c. r 3 for SI.OO. with full direction*. DR. 8. A. CAST’S DISPENSARY, Imogootee, Ind. “F t? A Cl f V* AM f I' bo Ter l h**! good* H Qren X direct frim tbe Im- , w " porter* at Half the usual cost. Best plan ever offered to Club Agent* and large buyers ALL EXPRESS CHARGES PAID. New term* FREE. The Great American Tea Company, _ “"Ul? Ve*ey Street, New Turk. P n Ilex 4 28S, OsthoOM RMHNoCMCMtraM Lye FOR FAMUY SOAP-MAKINB. aSKffisfiffijwsar *“““• a " t it is ruu. miasr Aifo snttrsn. Th* market i* flooded with (soeelled) Concentrated la *dn lterated with gait a*d Mtta. end weaf asva noinr, »vt m Saponiheß MADB BT THB PeniMylvanU MmuTg Go, NICHOLS, SHEPAfiD A CO., Battle Creek, Mich. ORIGINAL AND ONLY GENUINE “VIBRATOR” THRESHING MACHINERY. THE Matchlera Graln-Serlng. Tirao-Savlng, •nd Money-Saving Thresher* W thia day and genera* tlon. Beyond all rivalry for Rapid Work* Perfect Claaolag, and for Saving Grain from Wantage. STEAM Power ThreAMa • Specialty. Special aisaaaf Bapsratora aiad* expresaly far Btaam rawer. OVE Unrivaled Steam Tkrraher Engiara, bath FartsMe and Tractia*. wltb Vaiaabi* laipravemenu, Ar beyond any other reake ar Had. ffVIHE ENTIRE Threshing Expense* (and often * three to five tine* that anurnnt) ana b* and* by th* Kxtr* Grain SAVED by theae Improved MacMnea. g*RAIN Baber* will nat gahaUttethe anor> asaua wastage of Grain and the laferisr work done by ■ll other machines, when eno* pasted on the dlSsrenee. OT Only Tartly Superior for Wheat, Oat*, dl Barley, Bye, sad like Grains, but th* Orav Baeoerefol Thresher in Flu, Timothy, Millet, Clover, and like Seeds. Requires ao “attachmaata" at “rebuilding'' to ehanye from Grain t* Soods. IX Thoroagh Workmanahip, Elecawt Flnhh, Perfection of Farts, Completeness of Equipment, ata, •nr “ V rasa run” Thresher OntUt* are InoomparSble. UgUVElow Or Sl.rlkH, ,f ram, a«l,. ••>«» one-half the nasal Belts and Gears? Make* Clean Work, with no Uttering* or Scattering,. rOVB Size* of Separator* Kade, Banging from Six to Twelve-Horse rise, snd twe styles of Ifoun? ea Horse Powers to match. —<™»w POB brtlrelsrs. Call o» oar Ddnler* or write to ns for Illustrated Circular, which ws mH free O- K- U- ————