Nappanee Advance-News, Volume 2, Number 52, Nappanee, Elkhart County, 31 March 1881 — Page 3

Jtappanec |fap. NAPPANEE. : : INDIANA. STEPPING IN FATHER'S TRACKS. All through night’s wearying darkness, snowy In eddying whirls had filled the wintry air; *\ As noiselessly as Time oUr blossoms takes, / They drifted here and there. And when the glowing, rosy-hearted morn * Awoke earth ssleeping denizens anew, Behold! The snow upon the night-winds borne Hud buried streets and lanes from view. The city hosts assailed the crested snow. And as the Red Sea waves of old rolled back. Foam banks on every side loomed up, and 10l All walked a solid track. But yonder farm-house, like a ship at sea, Becalmed, with all sails set, awoke to hear The low of kino, tloefe bleating to bo free, The while the day drew near. The farmer, anxious for his troubled henl, With sturdy stride the trackless snow-drifts parsed; By their great need to strong exertion spurred, He reuchcd the told at last. His gladsome son, exulting, darted on. Swift as an arrow from an archer’s bow: “I'll go,'’ he shouted, “where my father’s gone! I care not for the snow!" Ho stumbled, struggled, fell: yet still ho tried: For pride or courage stayed his turning bade. Until anew thought dawned: “I’ll go!” he cried; “ I’ll stop in father’s track!" How many glorious victories have been won. How many from temptation have turned back. Defying evil, just because a son Would step in father’s track. How should you walk, O fathers, lest too late You strive to call some erring wanderer ... back' For precepts best on tho?c examples wait That leave the brightest track. So live that when the deepeningsuows of age Shall hold your failing strength in bondage —back. Your children’s best and noblest heritago Shall be your shining truck. And when the household ami llie heart*, are gone, . *• And tender looks and tonc3 may not come back. Your mantle long may rest upon the son Who steps in “ father's truck." —Louise <S. Upham.in Youth * Companion.

ACANTIIA’S (OMEDY. Undoubtedly Mr. Clabaugh ought to have been wiser, after twenty-nine years 1 knowledge of his nephew, than to have been at all annoyed or impatient because that nephew was late to breakfast. Hut Mr. Clabaugh had important business on hand, and was eager to transact it ’ “Does Jasper think that I telegraphed to him to-journey five hundred miles to meet me hero to-day without a motive? Has the boy no curiosity?" muttered he to himself, as lie slowly stirred his third cup of codec. / The long dining-room of the Pequot House was quite deserted, save Mr. Clabaugh and one or two waiters, when Mr. Jasper Surridge eventually made his appearance. “I seem to be a little late,” Jasper coolly remarked, after exchanging salutations with his uncle, “I am sorry you waited.” “If you knew why I desired to meet you here, what my business with you is, you would not wonder that I watted! I ■> think I was the first person to sit down to breakfeast, and no ,v the room is deserted.” “So it appears!—has quite the air of a ‘banquet hall deserted.’ £, But that is all the better for us if you are anxious to discuss business at once; therfe will be no eavesdroppers.” “Quite true!” remarked Mr. Clabaugh, cheerfully, half inclined to be grateful to Jasper for being so late that no chance fellow-boaruer could hear his secret. “I think my news will give additional delicacy even to those tender biscuits. You remember hearing me speak of that eccentric old Philander Edliffe, for whom I have made so many wills?" “The man who lived in Medac?” “ Yes, the same. Well, he is dead.” “Somebody—or some charitable society—is to be congratulated. The old beggar left a pot of money, didn’t he?” “You can hardly call a man who had amassed half a million, a beggar, I think.” “Not literally, of course—only figur-atively—-a bit of slang.” “Oh!” And Mr. Clabaugh was appeased; he would not willingly insult even the ghost of a rich man. “ Who has got the property? -one of the old maid cousins, or a hospital?” “Neither. A person of whose existence I hever heard until I made his last will; his only grandchild, Acantha Edliffe.” “What an outlandish name! I thought he was a bachelor—a misogynist!” “So aid I, but he was married in his young days, and had one son, Pablo, whom he drove from home by his ill temper and his miserly ways. This son also married and died, leaving one daughter, Acantha; as this girl is his legal heir, none of the many' aspirants can even olaim the property." “Curious! But why telegraph for me?” “This girl is young, rich—and unmarried" “Ah, I understand! I, too, am young and unmarried, but alas! not rich. You think there are possibilities foi me?” “Certainly 1 do! You are good-look-ing—" “I inherit my looks from my mother: the Clabaugbs are all presentable.” “Nonsense!” but the uncle was flattored. “Yon have always been successful with women—but by the way," and Mr. Clabaugh’s tone change from complacency to anxiety, “is there any entanglement between you and Lottie?” “Oh, no, nothing serious, only a

flirtation; I have not committed myself." “That is lucky. It wouldn’t do, you know, for my nephew to be caught in any thing dishonorable; it would injure both of us." “Don’t you worry, uncle! I am too ’cute to leap before I look. Lottie is very sweet, and if she were old Edliffe’s heiress there would be some sense in my spooning on her. However, she is almost as poor as 1 am, so that match will not be made. But about this Edliffe girl, is she—is she at all passable?” “Os her looks I know nothing; but as she has been a teacher in one of the grammar scools in Clarendon for the. last two years, she must have’some sort of an education. Now my plan is that you start forClarendonto-night—” “No. no, to-morrow! You forget that 1 have just come post-haste from Ohio! Do give a fellow time to breathe.” “I presume a few hours’ delay will do no harm, so we will say to-morrow. When you reach Clarendon look in the directory for the name of Edliffe; it Is not a common one, and make Acantha’s acquaintance as well as you can. Here are letters of introduction to three .of my friends there, but don’t use them if -you can help it; it will be better for you to fall in love with the girl without knowing who she is; then no one can ever accuse you of, having married her for her money. Do you understand?.” “Oh, yes! But will not she, or some one, smell a rat? My advent ill Clarendon just as she becomes an heiress--” “ She will not know she is an heiress until 1 see lit to tell her. ' I intend to give you from one to three weeks’ start: I am not well; my physician has ordered me hero to the mountains to recuperate; how can I attend to business now?" “ I see! I must make hay before the sun shines. Miss Acantha will have first a lover, then a fortune; which is rather reversing the usual order of things.” “You aro serious, Jasper? You will really try to win this girl?” “ I am seriously—very seriously—in want of money, and as for trying to win this rural damsel (for Clarendon is hardly more than a village), well, I think I can do it,” answered Jasper Surridge, complacently, as he arose J from the table and sauntered out to tho j hotel piazza. Young Surridge had good grounds j for his oonlidence in his own attraci tions. He was tall, handsome, graceful and devoted to ladies’ society, could I quote poetry or utter delicate compii- | ments by the hour; and some of iiis half-envious admirers declared that lie had been stern enough to refuse two offers of marriage from rich widows! When he made his appearance in church the morning after his arrival in Clarendon, there was quite a flutter among not a few of the tender young hearts, and at least a score of bright eyes looked the question, “ Who is that handsome man?” With his mind concentrated upon the unknown heiress, Jasper carefully surveyed the congregation and sighed for some fairy to whisper to him, “That is she.” Presently the organ pealed forth, and a clear, sweet, mezzo-soprano voice sang an anthem, “Come unto mb all ye that labor.” Regardless of the ! place, Surridge turned to his next neighbor and whispered: ! “ Who is that charming singer?” I “ Miss Edliffe,” was the startling 1 reply. i The directory had already shown ! him there was but one family !of that name in the town, “Mrs. ! Jane Edliffe, 17 Willow street; Acantha Edliffe, school teacher, 17 Willow I street;" evidently this was the heiress. “What does she look like?” was his I next thought. So he turned round and took a good long look at the singer; resuming His mental conversation he said, “Medium height, slender, dark eyes and hair, good complexion, decently though plainly dressed; she will do!”

To make sure that this was the person he sought, he discreetly followed h home, and when he saw her enter 17 Willow street he was satisfied. He delivered one of his letters of introduction the next morning, and as soon as he could he began to rave over the “exquisite voice, the most delightful voice,” he had heard in church, and innocently asked the singer's name; then, finding that bis new friend knew her, he bagged him to present him to her. Chuckling at his good lu<&, he began to make delicate but assiduous love to Miss Acantha, and was charmed to find that she did not repulse him; on the contrary, after a few days she seemed to give him some little encouragement —not boldly, however, but timidly and innocently. Mrs. Edlifle was not so cordial as he could have wished, but still she was not actually inimical, and there was no one else to interfere—at least, no one of whom he knew anything. “Acantha Edliffe’s conduct is really disgusting!” whispered the gossips within a week after Surridge’s arrival in Clarendon. “Before this stranger appeared she aoeepted Hubert Luttrell’s attentions with avidity, but now she quite ignores him.” “He hasn’t been to Willow street since last Sunday,” responded another gossip, “while this Mr. Surridge is there every evening, takes Acantha to drive every afternoon and sends her books and flowers every morning.” “Well, he is rich, probably, and.very stylisn, while poor Hubert is neither.” Acantha’s oonduot in this matter oaused plenty of talk; Luttrell himself was the only silent one; when some venturesome person tried to “inteivie w” him on the subject he simply set his teeth together and mutteredr ~ ‘ “Popinjay!” But popinjay or not, Surridge com-

pletely distanced Luttrell in two weeks. At the expiration of that period he might have been heard whispering to Acantha: “Oh, my darling, if you knew how much I loved you, you wotlld not be so coy; you would at least try to love me in return!” “Perhaps 1 may fry,” Whispered she, hesitatingly, but quickly added, warding off a threatening embrace; “but how can I be sure that you are true? You have known me so short a time!” "Fourteen long days! After all, what is time to those who love? The moment I saw you I knew that you, and you alone, must be my wife!” Which was true, but not as he would have had Acantha understand it. “ You have loved before, of course—” “Never! Never! I may have had my passing fancies, but you are the first girl whom I have wished to marry.” “But J am poor and insignificant.” ‘.•Not the latter, my sweetheart. And as to poverty , do you suppose I care for that? We will manage to live, I assure you.” “Youknow nothing of my family.” “Your mother, you say, is your only relative; I am sure she would grace any station.” “Dear mother, I am sure she would! If I should consent to—to try and like you, you must promise and not listen to any nonsense about Mr. Luttrell. 1 did love him, really love him, I thought, until—until—” “My darling! Your sweet confession has entranced me!” “No, no! I have confessed nothing! (live me until to morrow to think of it; and mamma’s consent must be gained.” Os course Surridge promised to do anything Acantha desired; and when he returned to his hotel that evening ho telegraphed to his uncle: “Come on at once. The fates are propitious.” The fates are proverbially eccentric; so Surridge realized when, on calling at 17 Willow street, he was told that Acantha was too ill with nervous headache to see any one. In the meantime Mr. Clabaugh arrived and congratulated his nephew warmly on his success; but also in the meantime, simultaneouslywith Mr. Clabaugh’s arrival came the rumor of gld Mr. Edliffe’s death; and the next morning it was announced in the local newspapers with the addition: “This gentleman was unknown to our townsmen; nevertheless his large fortune is to come to us, Miss Acantha Edliffe (teacher in Oak streetgramroarschool) being his heiress.” “ Confound these newspapers! The fat is in the lire now,” was Jasper’s savage exclamation when lie read those lines: “ What possessed the girl to have a headache last night!” “No matter. You are virtually accepted. You can still make a good point; show her the notice and say that of course she will not want you now that she is rich, that you cannot submit to be called mercenary; that will fetch her.” And so it did. The uncle and nephew called together that morning, and after the former had told Acantha of her grandfather’s bequest tho latter carefully withdrew His proposal. “Oh, Mr. Surridge, what a poor opinion you must have of me! Do you think that I would permit tho wealth of the Indies to come between me and the man I love? No true woman ever weighs lovo against money.” “ Miss Edliffe, you overwhelm me You are nobler —” stammered Jasper. “ Nobler than you are?” said Acantha, sarcastically, with a sudden change in voice and manner. “ 1 might easily be that! Gentlemen,” continued she, slowly, opening the door that led into the hall, ana laying her hand within the aim of Hubert Luttrell, who stood there with a smile on his face, “let me present to you my hus-’ band, he who loved me when I was poor, and to whom I was married this morning!” __ The two plotters gasped and turned pale. Jasper was the first to recovei himself; he exclaimed: “ Miss Edliffe, your conduct has been unwomanly! You encouraged me—” “Why did I encourage you?” she asked, quietly interrupting 'him. For your own good, to teach you a lesson. Mr. Surridge, your conduct has been most unmanly! You jilted Miss Lottie solely for my money; you would have married me with a lie on your lips! Ah, you both look surprised; you wondei who revealed your secret? Mr. Clabaugh was my informant,” “I was not” Mr. Clabaugh retorted. “Yes, ypu were. I was an unnoticed listener to’port of your conversation a< tho Pequot House, and your dilatoriness, Mr. Surridge, gave' me the one day’s start needed to come home and instruot my mother and Hubert as to my plan. Perhaps you remember that the waiters at that hotel were all young ladies; sevoral of us school-teachers needed both money and change of air, so we “hired out” during vaoation as waiters at the Pequot, and gained some money, plenty of exercise, mountain air, and a little fun.”— Godey's Lady't Book.

—Seth Green says there is always great mortality among fish in ice-locked waters. He says; “After every long, steady winter like this many more Am die than anybody supposes. People have an idea that all fish float when dead, and that the only dead flak they see are those on the surfaoe of the water. The fact is that in the case of dead fish but one in ten comes tp the top. We have determined that by actual count at the state ponds.” This mortality Is easily prevented, Mr. Green says, by ehopping hOles here and there in the ice, and thus giving the fish fresb air.

A New Departure. An advertising agent for one of the great circus combinations has been in Detroit for a week past, and yesterday sat down long enough to answer a few questions. The interview started off as follows: “How many diamond pins will you wear this summer, and what will be their value?” "I shall not wear any. Our show has made anew departure in that matter, and nobody except the man in the ticket-wagon will be allowed to wear diamonds. lam just going up to the express office to send my seven pins four rings and sleeve buttons home to my brother.” “How many consolidated shows do you advertise?” “Only thirteen, but we have exactly sixteen. We do not intend to do any blowing this summer, but will practice tho modesty dodge. We have twelve clowns, but advertise only ten. We have ten elephants, but advertise only eight, and so on right through.” “Have you the only man in the world who can turn a double somersault over sixteen horses?’ “No; there is another man who can do it, and although he is in State Prison we didn’t waqt to say we had the only one. We shall'practice no deception and carry no humbugs.” “Have you the only baby elephant?” “Yes, sir, but we don’t advertise it. We don’t want to bo mean towards other combinations. . 4 ‘Have you twice as much capital invested as any other traveling show?” “Yes, sir, but we don’t say so on the bills. The public don’t oare about the capital, but want to see the animals.” “Will your street parade be a mile long?” is Two of them, sir, but we don’ t advertise that fact. We let people come and be agreeably surprised.” “ Have you got an elephant that has killed seven men?” * “ Seven! Why he’s laid out eight this very winter! I think the list foots up thirty-two, but wo don’t advertise it. An elephant is an elephant, and what’s the use of blowing about it?” “You have two or three man-eating tigers, of course?” “ Os course—seven or eight of them, and we also have a list of the names of people who have been eaten by them, but we make no blow about it.” “Have you a boa-constrictor fortyeight feet long?” “ We have obe sixty-two feet long. He’s the longest and largest sifakc eVer imported, but we give him only one line on the bills.” “ Have you the sacred cow of India?” “ Yes, sir, and the sacred ox of Japan, and a sacred calf and a sacred pig, but we don’t blow over ’em. We let the public come in and separate the sacred from the unsaered themselves.” “ Will you have two circns rings?” “We shall have four, but we don’t put it on the bills. As I told you at the start we are making anew departure. We shall not exaggerate. We shall not even tell the plain truth. No diamonds —no trumpets—no snide challenges—no humbug offers—no field of the cloth of gold. We are going to sail along in a gentle, modest way and give the people five times the worth of their money. That’s all—children half-price and no lemonade sold in the tent.”— Detroit Free Press. *

A German on Emigration. A German scholar, well known in literary cirolos here, and formerly connected with the Board of Emigration in New York, Dr. F. Kapp, has just published an address on emigration, delivered in Berlin to the Congress of German Economists. Like most of Mr. Kapp’s writings, the address is full of good sinse and fortified by thorough historical knowledge and experience in practical affairs. The speaker admits the great loss to Germany of so many ablebodied young men and women drawn overy year to a foreign country. According to former estimates of the money value of every workman to a country, he sets down tho capital value of each emigrant to the United States at about SBOQ, or. at the lowest estimate, including women and children, as, say, 500 thalers, and his money property at 100 thalers more, making, with 100,000 emigrants every year, a loss to Germany of 60,000,000 thalers, or from 1820 to 1860, with 4,000,000 emigrants, a loss to the Fatherland of 2,400,000,U00 thalers, or almost half as much again as the enormous French indemnity. — N. Y. Times. Directions for Planting Strawberries. For the garden one of the best methods is to plant in beds about four feet in width, leaving a walk between. Three rows may be-planted in each bed set fifteen inches apart each way, the outer row being nine inches from the walk. By this method the beds need never be trodden upon. If large berries are desired, runners should be out out appear during the season. Thus new crowns are formed in the old plants for next year's fruit. Keep the ground clear of weeds and the surface mellow. Just before the fruit begins to ripen, oover the ground betw eenthe plants and about them with straw or freshlymown grass. This will protect the plants against drought and the fruit from the sand and soil which are spattered over them by tho rain. For field culture, the matted-row system Is generally adopted, a 8 the cultivator and horse perform the labor. The rows should not be less than four feet apart and the plants eighteen Inches apart in the row.— Rural Neui Yorker.

Witkle and HU Wife. The other night old man Wickle and his wife, while walking along the street, going home from a mite society, ear gaged in a quarrel. “I’m not gpin<r out with you any more, Samuel, said Mrs. Wickle. “You are too old a man to cutup the way you did to-night. The idea of an old man who has the rheumatism so bad that he can't put his socks on mornings, going to a mite meeting and cavorting and romping as you have done to-night. I say that it*is a shame.” “ I may have rheumatism,” replied the old man, “but I haven’t got dyspepsia. I don’t growl and snap at everybody. You have been growing worse lor the last ten years. If you didn’t have me to pick at, I believe you'd die.” “I won't walk with a man that acts like a rhinoceros.” “ How does the rhinoceros act?” asked the old man, thinking that he would catch her on natural history. “ Acts likeafool, that’sliowhe acts,” and Mrs. Wickle walked rapidly away, leaving the old man several paces behind. He finally caught up, just as a young man came walking along. “ You are walking pretty fast,” said the old gentleman. His wife didn’t say anything. “It’s clouding up,” he remarked; ‘‘must be going to rain.” The old lady tnadffno reply, but tho young man took in the situation. “ You old villain!” he exclaimed, addressing Mr. Wickle, “what do you mean by attempting to thrust your company on a lady who does not want you! It’s becoming too frequent in Cleveland for ladies to be insulted on the streets by loafers. Get back!” The young man struck at Wickle. Mrs. Wickle clubbed her umbrella, and, exclaiming, “That's my husband,” struck the vonngman an undignified blow. The old man, encouraged by his wife’s strike for the uiijon, jumped on the young man and heliKhim while the rattling ribs of the umbrella fell on the youtlvs head with a noise like the falling of hail stones. “ Samuel, nobody can break up our domestic felicity,” said the wife, after the battle. “No, sir,” answered Samuel. “When a man tries to destroy the domestic happiness of my household, he catches my consolidated power of wrath.”— Cleveland Leader.

Romances of Arizona Mining. Six months ago a middle-aged man, a former resident of Gospel Swamp, had to borrow money to buy a burro to go to Santa Catarina Mountains, prospecting. He sold, tho other day, a mine for SIMR)O, and has better mines still for saWZ Another, former resident of Los Angeles discovered a mine in the Dragoon Mountains, and kindly placed a friend in the claim. After a while he was oftered $75,000 for it, and on find- , ing the other half owner, discovered he was in an advanced stage of intoxication. The whisky-eyed individual,'Who had not put a dollar in the claim, concluded: “Worth a million, if it’s worth a cent. Won’t sell for $75,000. Our wives will be dressed in silk down in Los Angeles.” The result was the parties bought out the sober partner, and are now engaged in freezing out the would-be millionaire. Another instance and I will leave mining matters. A certain miner here owed a merchant sllO, and on to pay his note had only sloo.’ The merchant tore up the note, remarking “that it was all right. Put me on some claim that you discover.” The miner did it, and the claim has since been sold for $40,000. — Los Angeles Herald. The White Alligator. Writing to the New York World from Ca-Manos-Alto, at the foot of the great rapid of the Rio Negro, Brazil, the explorer, Mr. Ernest Morris, says: “Over one of the camp fires the crew are roasting with boisterous merriment a live alligator (Jacare tinga), about five feet long.' When I asked why they did not kill the animal before roasting, =the pilot, who is always the spokesman of the party, answered that it would b spoil the meat. The white alligator is highly relished by both whites and Indians. It differs entirely from the Jacare assu, or large alligator, rarely attaining five feet in length, and is distinguished from the larger species by its pointed nozzle, somewhat rounded tail, white color and its freedom from the acalinga (or smell). Though it is found throughout the .whole course of the Amazon, it abounds more in clearwatered rivers and creeks. I have often found this alligator in streams of the high hills, miles away from any river or lake, and have frequently seen the skulls and bones in the forest. That it travels far and Well on land there can be no doubt; and the Indians say that its eggs are deposited in the forests. The flesh resembles veal in appearance and has a fishy taste.” Tongue-Tips. One very ancient Greek ceremony, strangely enough, has survived to our times. It is the cutting off the tip of a tongue at the dinner-tame and keeping it “for luck.” The origin of this, which is mentioned in Homer, Sophocles and Aristophanes, seems to nave been the symbolical offering to the gods of the organ of voice, the interpres lingua through which even animals, birds especially, were thought to utter sounds communicating to “the knowing” (<• to the impostors, the priests) the will of the gods. These “tongue-tips,” which last for many years, and become in time as hard as a pleee of wood, I f have known to be kept in families who could never be induoed to throw them away as “ rubbish!’’—Eraser’s Magazine. '