Greenfield Republican, Greenfield, Hancock County, 19 December 1895 — Page 7

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y0C

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FOR SALE BY ALL DRUGGISTS.

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Undertaker and Embalmer.

I make Undertaking and Embalming my especial business, and am thoroughly prepared to do work entrusted to me promptly. The embalmiu^ fluid I use li-is no superior in tlie State.

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POINTS OF LAW.

Parol evidence is not admissible to vary the terras of a note. The giving of an absoluto deed merely as security is a badge of fraud as against the creditors of the grantor.

A corporation that is unable to pay its debts as they bcconio duo in the usual course of business is insolvent.

Where the contract of a carrier for a special rate of freight is void in violation of the interstate commerce act the carrier may collect the usual rate.

An employee who knowingly engages in dangerous work because he is told that he Jfe will lose his place if I10 refuses to do so

assumes the risk of injury from such work. The assignee of an insolvent corporation, under an assignment for the benefit of its creditors, takes the property subject to & whatever equities existed against the corporation.—Recent Decisions of Highest

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HEALTH HINTS.

Take plenty of outdoor exercise—unless you have sciatica or Chinese feet. Eat plenty of fresh fruit, but don't call it fresh \fhen it is intolerably stale.

Drink whenever you are thirsty, but be I careful what you drink and how much. Get rid of pain if you can, but don't think that quieting a pain is curing a disease.

Remember that clear water is not necessarily pure water, any more than cold air is always pure air.

Drink hot water if you find it agrees with you, but don't become a hot water crank and insist on boiling all your friends.

Mineral waters am sometimes wholesome, but don't think that the worse they •taste or smell the more beneficial they Inust be. p'

THE ROAD TO RICHES.

There never was a time in the country's history when the newspapers were so largely looked to as inciters of trade as the present.—Salem Gazette.

The road to poverty is easy to find, but hard to travel. The road to riches is hard to find, but easy to travel if you know how to advertise yourself on the way.— \nwsDanAT(lom.

HA 4-OCK. POOTE

28t

A small cioclc on the mantel ticked breathlessly, as if hurrying on the moments to the long silence on the threshold of which she knelt. In that sudden collapse of hope which youth can know she felt that he was already gone. She could not conceive that a change so terrible might not be final.

Miss Esther went to her, and with gentle insistence drew her away. At the door Cecil looked back as one who has laid a last flower on the bosom of the dead.

Miss Esther watched for the doctor's evening visit, and, when his examination of the patient was over she proffered her help for the night watch in a low voiced conversation with him outside the sickroom door. Her quaint earnestness was mingled with a practical efficiency which the doctor recognized and readily availed himself of. A.t the close of their talk he alluded to She young lady visitor of whom the iurse had told him. "A friend of the patient's?" he asked. "She is my niece, doctor," Miss Esther replied. The doctor did not fail to note the evasion and her flush of embarrassment.

'The patient is a relative of yours, did I understand you to say, or of your niece?" "He is not a relative, doctor I have no excuse for offering my help"— "Except the best qf excuses, madam 1 —that your help is needed. Mrs. Wren inferred that our patient and the young lady were not strangers to each other. Does she propose to offer her assistance too?" "No, doctor—the patient is not a stranger to us, but my niece has no idea of helping to nurse him."

44Well,

THE LISTENER. "7v~"

Barney Barnato says that he. has grown, weary of publicity. j*,' Since his appointment' to the speakership Mr. Gully has not tasted any intoxicating liquors.

Lord Palmerston ascribed his youthfulness to the fact that he never took any work to bed with htm.

Ex State Treasurer Vincent of Alabama is now working as a journeyman painter in a Mississippi village.

John Lowell of Boston has been eleoted president of the Massachusetts Society For the Prevention of Cruelty to Children.

During a reoent leotura Justin McCarthy described himself as old fashioned enough to still admire Dickens and Thackeray in tnth«inade*Q

GREENFIELD REPUBLICA THUBSDAY DEC. 19 1895

[Copyright, 1895, by Mary Hallocli Foots.]

The tenant of 52 lay sunk on a white, thinly clad bed, the lines of his long form showing beneath the folds of the coverlid like a carved effigy on a tomb. One hand, stretched by his side, stirred slightly, but the profile outlined against the swell of the pillow was as immobile as a death mask. Cecil went to him and cowered on the floor beside him, sparing her shrinking sight not one detail of the change. She crept close to the bed and laid her white cheek in the hollow of his dry, wasted hand. Her breath came in hard, tearless sobs. She gazed within the parted lids, where a dull, sightless glimmer remained. There was no recognition, no need for her to shrink where there was no importunity, to resist where argument and appeal

than her own. The ruined tenement which had been his house of life was void and silent, welcoming no one, disputing no intrusion.

Though she had judged and sentenced him, she had held him blameless. She worshiped the steadfastness with which I he had turned back to his barren post of duty in the face of a young man's last temptation. Who would ever understand, in the world of peace and order, I that wild summons which had forced an instant's choice upon him? And where would peace and order be found if there I were no men to obey when such a summons came? And she had made him feel that they were forever aliens by this deed. "My brother," she whispered, "mv two brothers God judge between you, and let mo call you both mine!"

had ceased. His estate now was less draggled filaments of his consciousness.

you know, it mightn't be.al

together a bad idea. There might be circumstances that would make her presence, at least, a most fortunate thing for the case. I confess I counted on more resistance' on the patient's part to the progress of the disease. There would be no need for volunteers by this time if the case had developed as I expected. With his physique and at his age I didn't anticipate the least trouble. I'm inclined to think there has been some

him now. The fact is, it struck me from the first that he wasn't particularly anxious to get well."

Miss Esther was silent a moment, and then, as the doctor appeared to wait for her to speak, she said:

4 4

From what I know of him I shouldn't think- he would be." "But why shouldn't he? As far as one can judge by the outside of a man he is well fitted to live."

44Oh,

The doctor smiled, as if to lighten Miss Esther's sense of the awfulness of her disclosure.

4 4

Those things are often reciprocal, yon know, madam. Is your niece's name Cecil, by the ?ay?"

Miss Esther assented in surprise.

4 4

The patient has mentioned that name. He wanders a little at times— can't get the number out of his mind. The doctor glanced casually up at the door opposite. "That is the number of our room," \Miss Esthpr explainpdJ

shock or strain that's telling against faith. You need not try to find me. We

11i

doctor, there has been trouble!"

Miss Esther admitted, desperately. "I supposed so. He appears to have something on his mind. It's often a very obstinate feature—the mind, you know. Mrs. Wren said the young lady appeared to be a good deal affected by the patient's condition. Was it with a particular interest in him she came in to see him It's—well—a little unusua I, you know, unless there's some previous relation. This trouble yon speak of—is it a comiiion trouble—I mean a mutual trouble!?" "Yes, doctor," Miss Esther replied, blushing with a sense of the responsibility imposed upon her.

"Well, madam, ir tnere is no serious objection, I wish th9 patient could see your niece quietly, you know, when he seems to be conscious. It may be another chance in his favor.'' "I don't see what my niece can do for him, doctor—except deceive him,'' said Miss Esther, with shrinking conscientiousness. "Our business, madam, is to get him well. He must take care of himself afterward."

About 9 o'clock Miss Esther began her night toilet in preparation for watching instead of sleeping.' She then went to the bed where Cecil lay in a stupor of hopeless grief. "Cecil, lrv dear, the doctor thinks we may need your help. Not tonight perhaps, ^but you must be ready. You must net go to bed without food, if it's only a gl.-u- of milk. And you need not waste your r-trength mourning for that young man while he is living. Better save it to help him keep alive!"

Miss Esther had seldom spoken to better purpose, but she did not wait to see the effect of her words.

Morning, when it came, found the watchers hopeful. Limp as seaweed forsaken by the tide, Hilgard lay waiting for the returning wave of life to uplift and outspread the

The tide was creeping back at dawn it floated him off into asleep like that of a newborn babe, from which he woke scarcely less weak than one, to rest his eyes on the face of Cecil Conrath.

Cecil laid her hand upon his wrist and held it there until he turned his head toward her again, and, lifting his eyes, faintly formed the words: "Why did you wish me to live?"

She withdrew her hand, but steadily meeting his eyes, with that primal question in them, answered: "Because I could not die too.

Ho continued to gaze at her, as if pondering her words, and trying if their meaning would stretch to the limit of his reviving longing. Cecil bent her head low, to hide the wild rose color that bloomed suddenly in her cheeks. "You are going to get well, for my sake,'' she said.

This was Cecil's deception. No renunciation could have been quieter or more absolute in intention than hers, when she resolved that the way should not be left open for Hilgard's love to follow her when she left him again.

Her father returned and robbed her meek sacrifice of its dignity by making it no longer voluntary.

Mr. Conrath had no sympathy with any form of practical Christianity which took the women of his family into the sickrooms of pilgrims and strangers.

Cecil was at once called upon to decide between two alternatives, either of which would remove her from her undesirable proximity. The choice lay between Havana and her stepmother's company and her grandmother Hartwell's house at Little Rest. Without hesitation Cecil chose to go down into the country with Miss Esther to Little Rest.

She doubted long on the eve of her departure—watching the night through ia weary toesings—whether to go away without a sign or trust herself to one last expression of her love to soften the I fact of her desertion.

When Hilgard awoke the next day from one of his long, restoring sleeps, a familiar perfume stole luxuriously upon his languid senses. The nurse brought to his bedside a bunch of long stemmed, heavy headed roses and a note which had lain neighbor to them long enough to borrow a hint of their fragrance. But it carried its own sting, keener than the sharpest of their healthy thorns. It was hastily written in pencil in the hand Hilgard had seen once before when Cecil had bidden him to that forlorn tryst in the gulch.

The words of the note had been the result of Cecil's native necessity to be honest. "If it does harm," she had said to herself, worn out with self conflict, "I cannot help it. I will give up everything, but he shall know that I love him." She wrote: "My father has returned, and we leave town today. You must get well. I shall know, though I never see you, that your life will justify my love and

are not for each other in this world. Cecil's love had not enlightened her very deeply concerning the character of her lover, if she could imagine him restored to what he had been when she had first seen him, and yet passive under her gentle proscription. It served, however, as the tonic which his will required. It stung him into a passionate resolve to get control oncs^more of that good servant, his body, with which he had so lately been willing to part company.

CHAPTER XIV.

44Why

4 4

44It

is partly

mutual—that is—I'm not really in her confidence, but he is a great deal to heir. I am sure of that. It is a shock to her to see him like this. I don't know what influence she may have over him"—Sjy

was it called Littlo Rest?"

Cecil asked,1 as the carriage slowly climbed the hill from the station. She had known the name since childhood,' but its familiarity had dulled her ear to its meaning, which struck her now for the first time.

It was a half way stopping place for the stages on the old post road, Miss Esther replied.

4 4

They changed horses at

SuIliTan, two iniies'dh:' This long hill was hard for the tired horses they used to stop at the foot of the first rise to water and breathe them a little. First there was a blacksmith's shop, tod a box on the side of the big elm for letters and papers then there was a tavern called The Little Rest..*'

Cecil softly repeated the name to herself. The horses dropped into a steady,, hard pulling walk, after their first spurt up the long, steep grade, which was. broken at intervals by shallow, transverse hollow^ to lead oft the water.

The Hartwell' house stood at the' end of a broad, grass joined the main hilL

The driver calk raking the\dead

own lane, whi| at the tgp of the

yard. lie was an elderly man, and he came deliberately, first hooking his rake in the low boughs of a tree. He put his shoulder under the top bar of the gate and lifted it on its hinges before swinging it open. As the carriage passed through he stood aside and nodded silently in response to Miss Esther's greeting.

Miss Esther straightened the doormat with her foot before entering. She did not knock, but the heavy door stuck slightly and opened with a jar which set the brass laiockcr's teeth a-chatter-ing.

The interior of the hall was darkened by faded green silk shades drawn down over the side lights. The slender mahogany stair rail made a square turn at the landing, and, continuing upward, caught a strong gleam of pure white light from an uncurtained window above. A tall closet opened on the landing. Cecil remembered how her brother had been wont to conceal himself there and spring out upon her unawares, on her toilsome journeys up and down the staircase, with a doll under each arm and a doll's wardrobe in a broken bandbox in her hands. She had never, as a child, been able to pass that closet without thrills of acute terror even when the doors stood ajar the long, dark garments hanging within had been invested to her imagination with the mystery of which they were the sole proprietors.

Martha, the respect-able "help," warned by the involuntary noise of their entrance, met them at.the door of the $

"Where is that picture, Essie?" back parlor and informed them that Mrs. Hartwell was in her own room dressing after her afternoon nap. She looked deliberately and curiously at Cecil, glanced at the hard coal fire to see if it required mending, asked Miss Esther some commonplace question about their journey, and then retired to the region of the kitchen.

The two women, left alone, were silent. Cecil gazed about her, taking in the details of the room, with shocks of recollection, and Miss Esther followed wistfully the expression of her face. The presence of a young girl in the house made her realize its subdued life and remoteness and the lapse of time since her own girlhood.

A slow, heavy step was heard moving ibout overhead. "I will go up and see mother," Miss Esther said, and see if your room ia ready."

Cecil turned toward her aunt with a quick, affectionate gesture.

Every thing is just as it used to be— only then I did not know how lovely it was! If you only knew how different it is!" "Different?"

4'From

other places I have known.

4 4

Ah, my dear, if you had only come to us last summer!" Cecil did not echo this wish she could hardly have told why. She had put off her hat and wraps and knelt before the fire as she had often knelt in the glow of the great stone chimney of the Shoshone cabin. "I must be content!" she adjured her failing heart on the threshold of this new life of peace.

There was a rustle of thin silk behind her as the door opened and her grandmother entered. She greeted Cecil very quietly, almost coldly, and, to her exquisite relief, made no allusion to the circumstances connected with her present visit to Little Rest. She took the chair on the opposite side of the fire, rocking gently, while her eyes dwelt on Cecil's face with a prolonged and retrospective gaze. Her white, withered hands, with the purplish veins showing on their backs, were crossed over her pocket handkerchief and rested on the ample slope which the folds of her black satin apron took in their descent toward her lap. Clear white muslin bands encircled her wrists.

When Mrs. Hartwell spoke to Cecil of her brother, it was always of the little boy she had known long ago. The events of his life subsequent to that time she ignored, as if he had died in childhood. Cecil sometimes wondered at this silence, but she accepted it and was unspeakably grateful for it. It was a silence which covered more than the proud old heart would have permitted any one to guess. Grandmamma Hartwell had been enlightened in various ways as to Harry Conrath's development since the days of his childish sovereignty "over the household at Little Rest. As a trifling incident of this development he had borrowed sums of money of her from time to time, making little filial journeys down into the country for that purpose. Miss Esther had often recalled these visits with the pathetic appreciation with which elderly ^^tired gentlewomen dwell upon the disinterested attentions of their young male relatives

Mrs. Hartwell had received the news of her grandson's death with outward composure, but for many days she had been strangely restless. She had seemed more be&vy and silent since that time. Ohlyonce had she alluded to the family

Siss

a man w|io was es into hfeaps upof tl

ief. This was on the evening before Esther's journey to New York to meet Cecil. Miss Esther had come into her mother's room to cover her fire and arrange heir for the night., The old lady

4 4

mm-

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4 4

nsness

Nervous

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nightdress. She seemed nervous and watched Miss Esther's movements with impatience. "Why don't you let Martha attend to the fire: She does it perfectly well. What is the use of making your hands rough for nothing at all except a fancy that I'm more comfortable for it? I'm not. I can't bear to see you on your, knees before that grate. "Martha can do it when I'm away,'^ Miss Esther replied, mildly.

When she came to the bedside to say good night, her mother detained her by the hand. "Sit down a minute, Essie. Put that1 shawl around you." Mrs. Hartwell did not speak again immediately. She was rolling up her cap string, and her fingers were slightly tremulous. "I don't suppose he would let you bring her down here," she said presently. "He didn't say anything about it, but of course he couldn't say anythingin a telegram. Perhaps there will be a letter—or she may know what he wants her to do." "He cannot want to keep her in that hotel! Strange ways! Strange ways!" the old lady repeated.

He always seemed to be afraid the children would get—well—our ways," said Miss Esther. "I know he thinks we are very provincial down here.'' "Ho didn't seem to think your sister? was provincial—before he married her." After a moment's silence Mrs. Hartwell spoke again, in her deep voice. '4 Where is that picture, Essie—that picture of Harry?" "Mother, I put it away. I thought it would hurt you to see it all the time." "People have to get used to being hurt. I wish you'd bring it back.

CHAPTER XV.

Cecil had not been brought up in the habit of industry. To sit perfectly still and unemployed for an hour at a time was no affliction to her, as it would have been to Miss Esther— is it undeniably was to Miss Esther to see her thus listlessly drifting, day after day, with the tide of her thoughts. She spoke to her mother on the subject of her duty to the young girl in this respect, but Grandmamma Hartwell replied:

Let her alone for awhile. She doesn 't look like one who needs spurring." Cecil did not look unhappy in these days, but she was not able to bear the house life without long, solitary walks which had the effect almost of a voluntary religious exercise.

On rainy days sue would stand at the windows of the cold, unused parlor and watch the locust trees rock and strain iu the wind witli them, in spirit, she rode out the storm. At twilight she was is able to take her place at the piano, whose keys had a thin, sweet tinkle, like the melodies that had been played on it in its prime. The folding doors were parted, that her grandmother, sitting by the fire in the back parlor, might listen to

4'Joys

ed," and

Cecil had found a succession of harmonies that fitted the words| a*

Oh, me, oh, mel what frugal cheer My love doth feed upon, and sometimes in moments of weakness she gave them utterance, enunciating the perilous syllables softly, with a sense of self betrayal and of tampering with resolution.

Fair days or cloudy always found her afield, climbing the brown orchard-slope behind the house and fleetly following the path which led down through the gap in the stone fence to the level meadows, below the milldam. It was a country of abrupt heights and hoilows in the spring the half hidden water courses made a pleasant noise among the hills, but only the greater sfrpama onrvivftd t.llfi Summer.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

.-Hi

That We've Tast

4'Believe

Me, if All Those En

dearing Young Charms," until Martha came in with the lamp and announced that supper was ready.

agiief

EDITORIAL PHILOSOPHY.

Some people boast in order to convince themselves that they are all. right.—Galveston News. kt curiosity would be a man who ufotttfa shut and lived to regret ifc