The new Northwest., February 24, 1881, Page 6, Image 6

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THE NEW NORTHWEST, THUBSDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 1881.
DECLINED, WITH THaJtJCS.
''; t hatbaw n. run, J
. :"r Too vtIU aa yoa will b my friend"
' V- HeDeerorth a "toUr." aothlag more,
And m a to yofar letter end.
Wit eruel pity, otr u4 r.
As though jroa d(nd th pt s breath
rim IUV taliror dp aa4 bland,'
. TbM nothing of Ibt brwuher Mlth ,
When blotted by a Jeweled band.
. Bat pardon m If I deelln ';'
rriendahlp or later acred tie
With en who tboa rn da.h th win
Of lor that, mantled late o blf b,
And all the burning look that wm '.' '
" Above th beaker tqnr to naugh t, ''-
As polau for future epigram
: .;r To wblle na worldly afleMboufhU-
" " Jt, whll yoo fed any flam with sigh. .
ftoft-whlapered yow, by Mlese. given.
And nnder-lldded glance of eye.
Wbrwc lover hutld their hope f heai
- " Too merely meant to Idle by, . j
' Soma tedlou boar to "drawm out
- Forglva ma If your friendship 1 .
- nboald deem too llfbt to ear about. -
-Or, U a darker purpoaa ruled.
To take a heart by stratagem.
And then, aa your ainuement!coold.
iTo wring, to torture and contemn,
-j rorglT m aUII If I ahould not,
' In folding faaey broken wing,
' Cray sisterhood In deed or tbougbt
From Such a vile, revolting thing. '
-XXhaaka formy. letter f' llere are your,
With photograph and lock, of hair;
And. if tbelr memory yet endure
A aometblng that eoold ooo ensnare.
; Tlaunt them a rallying flag, I'pray, '
Y Abov tba long and reeling rank
Of tbbao who, at aom future day ,
Tour friendship may decline with tftanki.
THE TWO FISHERMEN.
V
I wm strolling along the. beach, one fine Sum
tser evening, amusing myself by picking up peb
fele and throwing them Into thertea, while mem
ory waa busily employed in retracing paat event,
when in y rererieg Were broken in upon by a
alight tap on the shoulder. I turned around and
... . . .. . . . .. . i .
beheld an oia aauor wnom i onen visited uar-
the Bummer months at his pretty cotttage In
What! all alone TV he sal J, with, his usual
" benevolent smile. ;,4Can you not nnd better em
pfoynnTHM atone Into the water T
I attempted to make some excuse for the foolish
: manner In which I waa wasting my tlmg.
'Do nofmake any apology.Annre. . I know
you of old. You will contrive to draw aorae grave
reflections from' your childish amusement, and
tell me that the ocean reminds you of time, and
' that the pebbles you cast into it resemble the fate
of man, making a stir for a moment, agitating
the bosom of the waters, then sinking forever and
leaving no trace on the surface."
It Is even so" said I, unconsciously dropping
the stones I had In my hand one by one on the
-beach.-. - : v -, -
The old man sighed deeply, and an expression
of sorrow almost amounting to anguish-convulsed
ill features. It was but a passing cloud ; his fine
countenance waa again illuminated bv his usual
placid smile, as, seating himself on a large stone,
Of mouoneu ma 10 oo ine same.
Cmuv, Atmie, alug tux? the titou ttiil .'LldeafiV
lore, and I, in return, will tell you alonpstory,
which you may turn to. what account you please,
"WO that yon TOnceal the name of the parties tn
cerned. : 7 ; - - -
I loved his storie they were alwavs told with
fnch simplicity and warmth of. feefing that he
ceased to be the mere narrator, and the hearer
Bight fancy him one of the principal actors In the
drama. The song he wished me to 'sing, and
which tie al way called his favorite, was a very
ad one.' - . '
I will not -singthat song," I said, "it Is so
Terr sad." .
The better suited to my perfect feelings, re
tamed Jhe old man. .
yow, X wished to hear this tale : curiosity con
I mTcnrrlefirantl Ltlidinr best
A long pause succeeded. At length, the old
man. passing his trembling hand over his eyes,
pointed Jo a small whit. cottage thftt stood on the
trow of the cli ft
Doyou see that cottage with the roses over
;thetrchr'
44 'Tis an old-fashioned looking place,' said I,
and would make a pretty picture;"
"Forty years ago' he continued, "that house
waa built by two brother, who rained a com
fortable liviug by engaging in the fisheries, which
were then carried on to a great extent In this
Tillage and the adjacent town. George and
Henry Gordon were early left to struggle with the
-world, Their faihrdud at satvi tWir tuotbr
did not long survive her Iom. The boys were
brought up in the house of an uncle who was the
father of two sweet little girls. The children ten
derly loved each other r time strengthened their
mutual attachment; the uncle, before his death,
consented to their union, and the brother
Jointly erected that dwelling to receive their
promised brides. ,
"The rising sun smiled upon their labor of love,
and the shades W evening could scarcely wile
them from it. George was grave in his deport
ment and plain in hi person. Henrv was gay,
passionate and thoughtless. The di'tTerence In
their dispositions often produced hot wonis.be-
r tween them, yet -th-brothers - were ifohdly
attached to each other. .'
The marriage Was a matter of rejoicing to the
Whole village. TImj bells rang forth a merrv peal,
and old and young came out to meet tbVbridal
party and welcome them to their new abode. Th
children strewed flower in their path, and
matron and maid wished that long years of hap-
i a a a a a a aa V, m
rjness mignt auenu meir weuea uie. .
"For, a while, the young people bade fair to
.linxl Rnp r.t t, J Vrl-n.t. ramiftntftl
Joyeus to contend with the ills and sorrows of
life. I see her now, the feelings of her Innocent
nean ugntlng un ner smiling ana oeauurui face.
round which her dark curls "wandered ilka the
tendrils of a vine. - How often have I paused be
side yon rose-bound Dorch of a Bummer evening:
to hear her gay laugh ring In th clear air while-
sne ilea up tne- nowers or piayiuuy wove mem
into wreaths for her flowing: tresses 1 Dear rirl !
There was musie in her step and gladness In her
eyeJ and both were combined in the witching
tones of her voice. I have heard It exerted to its
utmost pitch to reach the' ear of her husband Is
she stood upon the cliff watching the return of his
boat by the clear beams of -the ruoon." That voice
has oeen mute many a day, and the graas has
rrown old upon her rrave.
''Harry and Florence, after the' first months of
their marriage were over,' did not possess thati
happiness and unity or .minu that were so con
spicaously displayed In the domestlo felicity en
joyed ty tneir next-aoor neiguoors. i tarry wa
raah and obstinate, and often found fault with
every scheme that his mild partner devised in the
vain hope of pleasing hi in. All her endeavors to
fulfill his wishes were frustrated by his unfortunate
temper, lie loved her, it la true, but he loved
himself better, and viewed the happiness b of
George and Dora with a Jealous and discontented
eye, not. considering that it was his own fault
that he did not enjoy the same
A . - - I .
feed, Harry,
alike by brotherly and sisterly love and conjugal
fvtlnn, th har-Tnny trAt r. frH TI IhM llMlf
became the topic of conversation to the
-f-iliUnta-of the villa-.- Donv the- wife W
C,:zt9 Gordon, possessed a heart too gay and
'Von turir.. iMfm trsnl to ae m. Klornv
he would exclaim, as he threw, down In a corner
of the room the net he had been fishing with, 'or
sing such sweet songs to welcome my approach as
Dora does.' ; :
"'I have no voice: I cannot sing,' was the
meek reply of poor Florence : 'but indee
I am alwavs happy to see your
A Ay that's the old phrase ; Jut deeds show.
Dora Is gay and cheerful ; that renders George so,
and make his home happy while you greet my
return with upbraiding, which drive me from
mine.' . " ' ' '
, "'It's your' own fault, Harry said Florence,
bursting Into- tears, and leaving the room.
'Would you curb your temper, we, too, might be
happy.'
'tWldora a day passed without some dispute of
full 9 iiHiuir muM inv .luu-iimiim Avmvow miu
:rief that the fiend Discord had thrown her apple
nto their onoe hsppy circle.
?une evening iney naa met at ueorge's house
to while away a few hours by his cheerful .fire
side. i It was a wintry night, and the rain fell. In
torrents, and the wliyl roared without and shook
the cottar to the foundation. Harry had been
on the sea with the boat, which was their mutual
(roperty, In the earlier, part of, the day, and
Jeorge, hearing Xhe tempest rising to a pitch of
caution to draw her upon the beach: and secure her
against the violence of the waters which burst in
tremendous force against the cliff. - -
t-'l Iariynawered-harshly.intla.negativa..i-'1'Then
I must go and do it myself,' said
George, the color mounting to his cheek. . 'If you
are careless with regard to your own property,
you should have some respect for mine.'
" 'ijel me perish u you leave this house on such
a night as this on any fool's errand V said Harry,
rising and placing his bacic against the door.
fhe win take no barm, and is lust aa much my
property as yours.'
'ttand back from the door v said ueorge, giv
ing way to sudden passion. MM want to go, no
one shall uare to bar my passage in my own
house r
VI tell vou that vou shall not col' returned
Harry, 'and I will make good my words.' - -
' ou must do it in 'another place, then,
George aaldrwtthaTihiatenl ng air:
'With all, niy heart,' was the reply.
"The women now iuterpo!. and with tears
and entreaties endeavored to win the brothers into
"a reconciliation.- lora finally s ueceed ed, jot !
a a a a i a.ft a -"-a-;"-'!
nen am sne ever nieai ia tier misoanu s near, in
-K'l iixur-lm- .hp.dr nu.l nnlfUnff lir
fears, he turned to his brother, and, holding out
his hand in token of amity, said :
'Harry we have both acted hastily- I forgive
you for your Jate intemperate speeche and Tex-
pect you win extend to me the same favor. 1 here
Is mv hand upon It: and now let us assist each
other in securing the boat.'
"Harry, whose passion had not so soon subsided,
consented with a sullen air, and they left the
house together. . y ' " "v ' " ; ' '
"During their absence, Dora, continued to pace
the cottage witliTapid steps, and often hurried to
the door and listened to the howling of the ten)
pest with an expression of alarm and anxiety.
'"lite night, is dark and stormy,' .sne said.
The billows are-mountains high. Oh, how I
wish mv-husband would return !'
" Don't alarm yourself,; my dear sister re
turned Florence, rising and approaching the open
door. They .will doubtless return, in a few min
ute. But' see, she continued, 'your clothe are
wet through with the rain. Consider your situa
tion, and be more careful for your husband's
sake.' ' . ."' : ......
" 'I can see a dark figure advancing along the
brow of the cliff,' replied Dora, disregarding her
sister's caution. 'It 1 helt Is my husband V
' .'In spite of Florence's efforts to detain her,
she sprang from the cottajre and sank almost
fainting into the arms of Harry Gordon, who,
without undeceiving her, carried her gently back
Into-tha-Trottage. . " : . i
'When Dora perceived ler mistake, lier fears
reached a climax of agoay. Turning with a de
gree of fierceness Quite foreign to her nature to
ward Harry, she demanded of him what he had
done with her husband.
"'Is the woman mad?" he exclaimed, in an
angry tone. 'Am i accountable for her husband's
actions? ,
"'You are! You are! shrieked Dora. 'He
left the house with yoo, and should have returned
withyott.- There's blood upon your hand your
clothes are dyed with it ! Almighty God! You
have murdered my husband T
"She sank senseless at hi feet, and Florence,
turning toward him with a face a pale a death,
said: N
"1-peak, Harry! Tell me what Is this you
have done ? What are these fatal stain ? Where
is your brother? '
V 'LX me tie cursed to all eternity If I know T
said 1 the fisherman, stamping furiously on the
floor. Theae women, with-their suspicions, are
enouch to drive a man out of hi sense !
""Seeing his wife trembling from head to foot.
" 'I left him with the boat : he will t here in a
IfcW mlnntrtlqjajogh
rDurinar this speech. Dora hadlbalfnarnTroaT
ih floor, anl ahe-caogbt hiaarmrlUily, -
" 'It may be true. FergiT Harry, a wife
agony, Come and help me look for him 1 she
"This Idea appeared to lnsp(r her fJ-n.'rwJ
hopes, and, springing to her feet, she darted
thfourh the doorway and fled with theTapldltv ot
thought toward th cliff. The wind did not Im
pede her course, nor the drenching torrents that
beat on her uncovered head ; one dreadful "UPP
sitlon alone possessed her mind ; the uproar of the
elements waa congenial with the'feellnes Jt pro
duced In her distracted . breast, And, she never
paused till she reached, the spot where the boat
was generally moored. The moonr which had
been obscured, now struggled . through the hare
and cast, a wan, uncertain light on the surround
ing objects. Khe stood alone on the sands; no
sound of human voice reached her ear, no living
creature met her eye Hbe called in frantic tones
on the name of her husband.
'George ! George 1 Where are you V .
"The hollowyclllla .returned ner voice, ami me
wind and waves alone answered. i
"Harry now arrived on the spot with a lantern,
accompanied by several' fishermen from the
neighboring bouses. -iThey found the unhappy
wife of George Gordon In a state of almost uncon
sciousness. Two of the men carried her back to
the cottage,.whlle the rent proceeded to search for
her husband. On examining the boat, they dis
covered the Pebbles all around It stained with
blood, and the sand deeply I ndented by the press
ure of contending feet, the men looked at one
another, and then at Harry. r "
' "'What are those stains on your face. and gar
ments; messmate? said an old man, eyeing the
young fisherman, with a glance of peculiar mean
ing. '
"'It is blood,' he returned, in a sullen ; voice;
but It Is my own. In drawing the boat higher
up on the beach, I had the 111 luck to-cut my
finger with a sharp flint, and the blood is still
oozing.' , - ' ' I. ' ; S;.. .
" oa will have to irive a more satisfactory ac
count of the accident if your brother is not forth
coming,' replied the old man. . 'In the meantime,
1 shall -consider it my auiy to retain you in cus
tody until he is found, or you confess what has
become of him.' 1
'"Of what do you accuse me?' exclaimed the
agitated young man. ..
.or murder j' .
"He uttered a scream of agony, and, raising his
hand toward heaven, made the most solemn asser
tions of his innocence, and called on God to attest
their truth. - f
'The men pitied him, but no one in bis sober
reason could acquit him of the deed. He then Im
plored them to let him take a last farewell of his
wife before they hurried hlm'off to, prison, and
this mercy was not denied him.: .
"Unconscious of , the horrors of her situation, or
the trials that awaited Jier, Florence was standing
by Dorata; bed, watching In unspeakable sorrow
the last fluttering of expiring life. Sorrow had
pressed, but nncfi on that younggav. heartland
the cord of life was severed in the contest. Her
anxletyof mind hurried the event df.roptherhood,
and she died In giving birth toa male infant, who
survived the loss of its unhappy parents.
"She had Just performed the last melancholy
task, and closed the fair did that shrouded for
ever the once joyous glance of her sister's radiant
dark eyes, when her husband spranir into the
room, and, catching her arm, exclaimed in a wild
tone:' - .
" 'Look on me, Florence ! Tell me that you be
Heve me Innocent of the horrible crime they have
taio to my cnarge ,
'The low wailing oi an infant met his ear, and
his bloodshot eyes fell on the pale, inanimate form
of the once beautiful Dora. ,
-"Ahrahe-is-dead And they will say that I
murdered her, too !' he cried, as he threw himself
on the floor and wept aloudnlnt the paroxysm of
nisuespair. .
"rlorence knelt by him, and raised his liead
tenderly. Hers was" a misery too deep-for tears;
sjie'klswed with trembling, pp t swHlfn -'titit
in wnica tue veins teemel burstings and said, in
a faltering voice:
"l)h, my husband ! I know not what to think.
but ! will not believe you gu 11 ty r" "'"'w-"
'uod oiess you ror tnose words, my poor MMie :
Heaven will prove my innocence: for I swear io
you, rlorence, by llim who made me, I am as
ignorant of my brother's destiny as you are. We
parted friends, and never in ray wildest fits of
passion could I have raised my hands against his
life.'
" 'I believe you !' exclaimed Florence, throwing
herself into his arms.
VThe officer of the law entered and tore them
apart..-
"We shall. meet again,' 'Harry,, she cried, as
they bore him from the room, 'both here and In
another world. ": . ,y ,.,"'
"As the village bell smote on her ear, she turned
toward the pale, crushed flower, over whom her
tears flowed unceasingly. . -
: "'Poor Dora V she said, stooping and kissing the
cold brow of her sister. Thy sorrows are over
thy heart la at rest. That gay, gladsome 'olce is
hushed forever. I shall never again envy Its
tones of melancholy, or hear 4hy bounding step
spring forth to meet him who has vanished from
among us like a dream. Oh, that I could lie down
and steep like thee, and bury In the dust the
anguish of a broken heart V - - -.
"Days, weeks, months, rolled away, but George
never returned. . Harry was tried for the murder;
the resumptive evidence was too strong to admtj.
of a doubt as to the perpetration of the crime, and he
su ffered the penal t y at t he age of t h ree-a nd-t wen ty.
"Florence remained a lonely Inhabitant of the
cot tare, pitied and respected by all her neighbors.
She found a melancholy pleasure In bringing up
the orphan her unfortunate sister had in dying
bequeathed to hr care. - She bore her dreary lot
with a meek and lowly spirit, patiently submlt-
.1 l l. A .1.. n 1 rti. -
however, wore a different aspect. The roses than
had been trained up by the hands of love were un
bound, and floated on every breeze. The pretty
garden, once the scene of Dora's rural labor, was
overgrown with weeds, hem and there a solitary
lily rearing Its sunny crest to-bring back to Flor
ence the memory of departed Jiours. . When the
moon shone down in beauty on the spot, she
would lean her head pensively on her hand and
fancy she heard the sweet voice of Dora singing
in the porch as she playfully shook the dew out of
thgt rjosee on the dark locks ami sunburnt cheek bf
ber husband,
" 'Ah I they were happy days, would the soli
tary mourner aay, 'but they are gone forever V
'rMi years had rolled on. and the little or
uaa r ruwu iuio a uuc, iuuut ooj
era lovely amlie am
marked his growth '
i roueu on. anu tne little orphan
fluf, ruddy boy, witftTrnniioUT
i and sparklihg beauty. Florence
rth with melancholy pleasure, and.
he became more dear to her from the resemhi...
he bore to her sister. 7 . - remblance
"One bright Bummer evening, aa the rosy chiu
was swinging on the front gate and watchine thi
restless billpws as they slowly rolled against th
cliff a woe-worn mnd weather-beaten ,man
preached the gate. The child, frightened at hlT
haggard looks, would have fled, but the strand
Caught him in his arms. ranger
" Tell me, he cried, in a hurried voice. ".
little boy are vou ? ' 4 . h0
. " 'Mother t lorence'
In his grasp. 'I don'
ce's,' said the child, stnjgKlTnr
t know you: please let mem
" 'Do your father and mother live here V
, "'My mother does, but I have no father Vu
the boy. 'He died before I waa born.' ' 7 -
4 4 11k S 1 Aft A
-roor Jiarry i tie i gone, men T said the -
eirauvr, KirBiijra(iiait.-M. cn me, uear Child
If your aunt, Dora Gordon, is living.' ,
"'Aunt?' said the child, looking earnestly n
ins iace.' "i naa onoe.ney leu me. a
.1 . II 1 1
moiner, uui cue lies tu iue ciiurciiyant. never
taw herr but mother Florence always makes me
pray for her and my father, too.- . -
"0 my child ! my child I exclaimed the stran-
frer, pressing the child wildly to his heart, M hlle
ils tears fell fast on the glitteringi ringlets r.f the -cherub
boy. , J. ' ' .
"At this moment Florence advanced from'ithe"
cottage. Afthe sight of the stranger she uttered
a terrible scream, andy Catching his arm,' cried out
in a trembling voice: rr --- . .T-,: .
"Speak to roe, in Owl's name, George "Tell "
me you are still of thirworld !' Ji., .,
. "JAJas to my misery !' groaned forth the un
fortunate man., ' .
"Florence clasped lier hands mournfully, and
raised her streamlngeyesrtoward heaven.
V'My wife my brother!' he exclalmedrdash
ing his hand against his head. This is a horri-
ble dream it cannot be true that they both died
for me !'
' "After the first burst of feeling had subsiied,
Florence entreated him to reveal the cause of his
long absence. N. - .
" 'Harry's tale was true,' he said. 'We dragged
the boat. which was nearly afloat in the surf, high
up on the beach In doing so Harry cut his finger
severely with a' large flint, and I begged-him to
leave me to fasten,. the boat, while he ran home
and got the wound which I considered danger
ous bound up. .Thank God, we parted friends!
He had not left me many Tninutes lfore a band
of smugglers emerged from a cave In the cliff, and,
observing me Imprudently turn my head and look
earnestly at the place of their retreat, they sur
rounded and threatened me with Instant death if
I dared to reveal heir hiding-place. I promised, -nay,
even bound myself to secrecy by the most
powerful oaths that language could suggest. "Do
not trust him," said one of the crew. "Kill him r
and throw his body Into the sea. We shall then
be. sure of his silence.!' My wife rushed across
my. mind. I implored their mercy! "If any of
you arehusbands and fathers," I said, "havecomrr
IaisTon onTme." l liave leinnhaTToltage a wile
on the eve of confinement with her first child s
wife whom I adore. Do not commit a double .
crime by .destroying both." , The leader of the
band relented.1 "I have thought of a better
scheme," he said, noddlng to his companion.
' We. will not take his lifeJUJustat this moment
I heard approaching footsteps. I strugglel des
perately to regain my liberty, and was thrown
with such violence to the ground that the blood
gushed copiously from my. nostrils; a handker
chief was tied over my mouth, and I was forcibly
dragged to the cavern. O Florence, Imsglnejny
feelings when I heard the voice of Dora callingod
me In tones of despair, while I, bound hand and
fiKt, was denied' even the power of utterance!; .-.
Were I to live for eternity, I should hevWrjret
the horrible presentiment of . approaching.. Ills
jvbich crowded on my .mind during that dreadful
night. . . " " " -.'-'.:"
" Toward niorning'the smugglers got their ves
sel under way, and they put me on board, and in
.the cour-e of three days we were landed in Hol
IwniT' VV'iTliollf n 11111 f in" if ii In my pnrlfrt.artr
least knowleIge of the language. I was reduced tr
the necessity of oliciting the. charity of the"
piMny'ButtheauxictyLjnlndJbrouglit on
a violent fever. I was-picki up In the street
and convevel to the hospital, where I languished
for upward of twelve mohths,"and, wherr restored
to health and liberty, new miseries awaited me.
Luckily, I fell in with the captain of a trading
vessel, who, pitying my forlorn condition, agreed
to take me with llim to England. Just as mT
hopes were nearly realized, I was again plunged
into despair. Our vessel became the prize of a
privateer, and I was carried a, prisoner to Francef
where I remained until the exchahge.which took
place a few weeks ago. We had a quick passage u
and arrived safe in old England. My Joy was rxr
greal on once more beholding nry nalIvecountry
that It was some time before I could moderate my
feelings. I begged my way hither, anticipating
the kind . welcome I should . receive froni my
wife and family after so long and -painful an ab
sence. And wJmt have I found ? My wife lnjjj
grave, and my brother executed for my supposed
murder.'" . " , -
- Here the old seaman' pa died,- and seemed sff
deeply affi-vted that it was some time before I
could summon up resolution to address him.
"And what became of poor Florence ?' "
"As though she had lived only to deliver up that
boy Into his father's care, she soon after jslckenea
and died, and we buried these two sisters of nils' .
fortune' in the samegrave The boyrAnaier yo
have often seen He is the gaj', hlgh-splnted
young officer who is frequently the companion oi
your eyenlng rambles." - -
"How ?" I crTeil, starting from my seat. "Her
bert Clinton ? . He is, then, your son?" f
"Yes, Annie; I was once the happy husband oi
the beautiful Dora Gordon." - .
He pressed my hand to his lips, and v'
slowly toward the deserted cottage. I o9ivZ
after him; my heart waaTiillT tears blinded my
eyes ; I could not follow him. . f. -
A priest was addressing his flock In I,,'n;1
the dangers of Intemperance, and concluded JU
haranguewith these wonlTIWk,myilld7'l,r-:
makes you beat your wives, starve-your famiuer
"hwi juui lauuiunw c,
and
I . P.
, When yo see a man occupying four scats In .
railroad car console yourscli wit ht he thoHgni
that the average age of the hog Is only fl"'
years. '..''..-. i -
gn(T
anerat nrfl0l.P. t' TO rMWoM,'
she will reside with his family in the B
rigajid boar a Jewelry eruUcms are oecll
log. So, too, are pigs and bore In tree "-
4 f.: