The Butler Weekly Times Newspaper, February 2, 1887, Page 1

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BUTLER, MISSOURI, WEDNESDAY FEBRUARY, 2 1887 3 pe Indian Girl's Reply. to love you, to leave the green abandon this bright land of the lodge, and my dear trysting > Ms evergreen tree is a symbol of ‘ ¥ ted plains, lakes and rivers so . 5 varying scene thrills the heart Mein cogs. oo to flee from the wild woods paunts of fashion, false, gor- ‘4 ed pule face, the palace, ai stifles and passions enthrall, temple of mammon is held as di- Tei otdens of just is adored on its onrine. . may that you love me, that dream will ere — from tby heart like the nightin- [Lang moment, may flatter me fone ark locks that encircle my ‘Bite ats of the dance, in gay fasbion's Bed nie bright eyes of the Chippe- me I answer my home is the atare’s glad cradle to each forest torn ‘neath the cloud or the sun's rodiy gow orm or the (qmpest, the mist or the or the darkness, the light or the the grove is the wild Indian mu forest home is a] Eden to me, for the eoul, no forbidden-fruit ‘dwells, and the charm of love's onthe green-wood, the prairie, ‘otream; song bird is free and the wild deer has no pit-falis for innocent feet. ithe wild dove to forsake the green age in some parlor to pine and to ‘ag young fawn the gay forest to led boudoir to languish and ju not a maid of the forvat to flee \ains Of the city—the Indian is free. dvell in the wildwood where love is beart and the soul—not a myth, not a inaidevs are pure and affections are AS like hearts in the towns by the m teo me where nature has hallow'd ite wetere'eo bright, in the forest 00 etuares J. Beattie, in Inter-Ocean. _ SISTER NELL. ‘was & very meanly-furnished room, it looked bright and cheerful Mgnt, as the light of the single lamp 0a the table dispelled enough of puadows to voften and round every without disclosing the shabbiness Pe forniture, and the thinness of the carpet that covered the fe were a few books on a swing- over the table, a pot of ferns tude bracket in one corner of the of some cheap chromos tacked i of eighteen, in a faded calico Bthe sleeves of which were rolled her dimpled elbows, was just her hands on a coarse towel, ng answer to the questions of thin-faced child, with large eyes, and a tangled mass of gold- Pry hair, who sat, propped up by on the bed that occupied the ofthe room opposite that where were placed. fe you tired, sister Nell?” ) of the girl with the towel y brightened, and she laughed mrily. red? Not a bit, Essie, dear!” she d; “see, it is only eight o'clock,” fo the face of the cheap time- Pethat ticked on the mantel, “and are wash snd the room tlean, and the stove polished, and eto viele hours before me for tins, BE you rety to-night, Nell?” asked boa on the bed, with « half-sob in because”’— aud here the to the surface—*'1 wanted you mi me a story—a real -fairy the one told me last Your stories are better than any in the books, and you know 4 covers, and when I'm pat work You can sit here and yourself. mit We're rich, Nell. you won't to work,” said Eeme a little ad Nell, ~ s aven of ee round- aug’ in, and began: a time “there lived in a ! an ugly and very Ogre. following the fortunes of the ht who rded this in and Essie's brown é w last the tale ended happily, as stories da. she clavped her Tescued the imprisoned | hands gieefuiiy and fcii pack among | the pillows with a little sigh of content- ment. “Now you must go to sleep, Essie,” | said the story-teller. And she sat by the bedside until the pe eyelids of the little girl ropped in slumber. Then stealing softly to the table, she shaded the lamp, and unlocking the drawer of an old-fashioned bureau which stood against the wall, took from its depths a Tittle package of neatly- written manuscript, some blank paper, a pen, and a bottle of ink. “It will be a great surprise to Essie,” she murmured softly to herself. * And drawing the paper towards her, she wrote rapidly, ina hand as clear and distinct as copper-plate, until the clock in the church tower just round the corner tolled the hour of ten. “] timed myself accurately,” she mur- mured half aloud; “and"”—measuring with her eye the pile of manuscript on the table before her—‘‘the book is large enough. Some day I'll get out Volume Il. Now for the illustration. I had three-quarters of an hour of spare time to-day, when the press broke own, and inspiration enough to dash this off.” She arose as she finished speaking, and taking down her lunch-basket from a nail driven in the wall, lifted the cover and drew out a thin package wrapped in brown paper. It was a piece of bristol-board, on which was traced, with a bold hand, a icture that illustrated the story she ad told that night to her crippled sis- ter. Artistically speaking, it was a ve faulty step ac it Sad the merit mA originality, and there was a certain vigor and firmness about the lines that gave character to the faces of the giant ogre, the daring knight, and the im- prisoned princess. The girl, with her head supported in her hands, eyed the rough drawing with a contemptuous curl on her lip. “{t is very bad I know,” she mur- mured; “but ie will value it. Oh, if I were only rich, and could take draw- je fe oo poor hes = ractice composition, aps some day [ might wey me cemithing thet would catia Tie world to give a little bit of praise to Helen Gwinett!” She sighed a little despondently, but she pasted the drawing in position at the head of the story she had written out, and made all the manuscript into » compact bundle, which she wrapped in a brown paper, and placed in the bot- tom of her lunch-basket. Then, after a glance at the fire, to see that it was properly banked, she un- dressed and crept into bed beside her sleeping sister. Before sunrise the next morning, she was up and prepared the simple break- fast, and a noonday lunch for herself and Essie. When, presently, Essie awoke, she washed and dressed the child, and they ate breakfast together. At half-past six Nell kissed Essie freer, aid two or three well-worn ks within reach of the helpless child, and seizing her lunch-basket, tripped merrily away to work. Nell worked in a great printing and publishing house, and earned a pound a week. It seemed 2 pitiful sum; and she hard- ly kiew how she made ends meet with it; but she wasa rigid economist, and generally had a few pennies with which to buy delicacies for her little invalid sister, who had been her constant care since, two years before, they were left orphans. ell had day-dreams sometimes, but they did not interfere with the practical issues of life, and the foreman of the room where she worked considered her his best hand. On the floor above was the bindery. Nell knew the foreman, a middle- aged Scotchman, who had been in the employ of the firm since boyhood, and that day at noon she sought him out in his little office, railed off in one corner of the great room, “Mr, Carnagie,” she said, breaking the string that confined the manuscript of her book, “I want to ask a favor of “Well?” said the foreman interrega- tively, speaking with a strong Scotch accent. . . “T've ogg some manusctipt here— some little stories that I have written pout from time to time for m et ve sister’s benefit. . If I were rich P'd them printed, although I'm not fool — to believe they possess any merit except for her. I've made the manuscript as much like a book-pageas possible, with wide margins all around, and I want to know if you'll bind it for me in one of those gift-book covers, with these letters stampedin gold on the front, “Essie in -kairyland, by Sister Nell.’ I want to—”" “[ can’t do it!" said the foreman, a hittle gruffly, shaking his head; “it’s | contrary to orders. One of those gift- bindings is worth five shillings. Yoa'll have to see the manager down-stairs. He don’t hire me to give away his stock.” } “Very well,” cried Nell, snatching > ipo manuscript with a defiant toss her head. ‘I've done you many favors, and you can do this if you want to. It’s not likely that I'd ask the manager, but the book's got to be bound if it costs me a week's pay.” Stairs. “Whatll it cost to nave this bound in Luckily, | one of those fancy gift-book covers?” she asked of Mr. Johnson. the busi- ness manager of the house, not noticing that Mr. Cyril Cawthorne, the junior | member of the arene publishing house | of Cawthorne and Son, and the head of the literary department, was standing | close beside the business manager's high desk. r. Johnson picked up the package of manuscript, ou the first page of which was a picture done in water- colors, crude, like ail the rest, but drawn and colored by the same free band that gave to all her pictures life and char- acter, He glanced from it to the face of the girl. “You're one of our young women up- stairs, are you not?” he asked. “Yes. sir.” “It is not our custom to charge em- ployes anything for little jobs like this;” and turning to young Mr. Caw- thorne, he handed him Neil’s precious manuscript. “We won't charge one of our hauds hing fur binding this.” Mr. Ca 2k the manuscript, ring, began turn- The wensecor «cei away, leaving Neli still standing in front of the desk. Mr. Cawthorne seemed interested in reading what the girl had written down, and in examining her crude pictures, for the minutes passed away, and he neither looked at her nor spoke. When the hands on the clock above the desk indicated five minutes of one, Nell ventured to break the silence. “It you please, sir,’’ she began, “I—" “Where did you get these stories?” demanded Mr. Cawthorne with sudden earnestness, tapping the manuscript with his long foretinger, and raising his spectacled eyes to Nell’s face. “They are mine,” she answered. wrote them out.” “Do you mean to say that you com- posed them, and that these drawings are yours?” “Yes, sir. Iknow they are not very good, but my little iame sister thinks they are grand, and it is to please her that I put them in that shape, and want them bound, so that she can read them over whileI am at work.”’ “Abem! Miss——” “Gwinett.” “Yes; Miss Gwinett, I want to talk to you. Walk into my office, please.” And before Nell could realize what it all meant, she found herself seated in the publisher's private office, telling him the story of her life, and how the reo came to be written, and all her hopes and plans and ambitions. When at length she finished, the pub- lisher spoke with an earnestness that nearly took Nell’s breath away. “These stories,” he said. “are capital —at least, if [can judge from one that Ihave just read—and your sister isa most excellent critic. ir house has been wanting to publish a book like this for some time, and if you'll allow me, I'll make you an offer for the manu- script—including the sketches.” Bire” said Nellie. And she began to feel faint and giddy, and the room swam around her. “I'll give you one hundred pounds down, and, if the book proves the suc- cess that I venture to say it wiil, the usual royalty after all expenses have been paid. I make this offer without reading the manuscript. Amuse your- self, and I'll see if my judgment is cor- rect by a further perusal.” He turned to the manuscript, and Nell, left to herself, could only sit and stare straight ahead at the opposite wall, on which danced a thousand pictures, more real and life-like than they had ever been before to her: She did not back to work that afternoon, nor the next day, nor ever cD § iD. Young Mr. Cawthorne came to see her in the little shabby room, which never before had looked so shabby to her, and talked to her of a future so | glittering oud grand that several times she pinched herself, hardly daring to | believe that it was not a dream; but ; when he handed her the crisp bank- notes for the hundred pounds, and went away, promising to call again, she knew it must be real, and, with Essie’s arms around her neck, cried out her She has told, in her own inimitable way, this story of her first triumph much better than I have done it, and the thousands of little children ail over Ctrfiiendom who have read with pleas- ure the story of “Essie in Fairyland,” do not dream that “sister Nell,” now a staid matron, and the mother of chil- dren, known far und wide as the gifted and accomplished Helen Gwinett Caw- thorne—for she married the fairy prince just as they do in the story-books—was once a working-girl, who found time outside of work-hours to write the | most delightful stories of elf-land that | have ever been printed. Eee, of the human face represents different of human nature, man being a dual animal, with a double set of characteristics, On one side of the bronze face of Franklin Greenough hae | depicted the expression of the man of She flounced vut of the room, the| ®ience who drew the lightning from | amgry crimson dyeing her face, and | the clouds; on the other he has repre- went straight to the business- office | “¢ted the features of the author of the iy philosophy embodied 1m Poor | which seem absolutely to revel in the} ALL | omist, Lavater. It is that hor | tie wns Almanac. Boston newspa| man says that is worth studying, because it illus- a theory for which the sculptor the authority of the great physi- =k side The Butler Weekly Times. _ We regretto say thatthe new maga- zine guns ae not for the purpose of | shooting writers of way reminiscences, —Hittsburg Chronicle. After all Adam was a fortunate man. | Eve never observed to him: “0, I for- { got to tell you, mother’s coming to pay | us a visit next week.”"—New Haven | News. | In the quntry: ‘And is the air dhealthy in this village?” “Excellent, Monsieur, etcellent. One can become & centenarin here in a little while.”— | Frenth Fur Lady—I an give you a little more o. | that clam chowder if you want it. | Trémp—Think you, I’ve had all I want, | an’ besides you'll need what's left tc washithe dimes with.—Life. | Yogghfal Sostonian—Mamma, aren’t | Mr. Holmes snd Mr. Lowell both absent fromihe cit}? Mamma—lI believo they are; dear. ¥. B.—Well, can’t I call my | trousers ‘“‘fants,’’ just while they’re | aweye—Life There is nt so very much difference between a Nw York Alderman and a tramp; Onewalks the street wondering where:he wil tind bail, and the other where he ca get something to eat— Charleston dews. “I notice ‘that you call your fiancee | ‘Mag,’ Joggng. 1s her name Margaret?” “No, that iga contraction for Magnet, Fangle.” ‘Is tnat her name?” “Not at I cdl her that because she is so attractive.”"—N. Y. Mail. When therumble of the explosion at Bayside reiched the ears of a West- chester lady, she exclaimed: “John’s been al er pass that bad quarter again downter Purdy’s. He hit the road hard tiat time."’—Puck. Riley—‘‘pakin’ of religun, me wife, Mary Ann, 8 an infidel.” Rafferty— “Shure an’ hat’s too bad. Why don’t yez git a ditorce?” Riley—“On phat grounds, Raferty?” Rafferty—‘On the oe ra of infidelity, av coorse.”— A young vidow in mourning for her fai spotse who died some weeks before: “I: am very unhappy, she sighed, whenher friends came to con- le with her. ‘But then one consola- tion remains; I know where he passes his nights.”’"—French Fun. Jawkin—That was a rather sudden death of old §kinflint’s. What was the matter withiim? Hawkins—Economy. The two undetakers are running each other, and funerals are away down in price. Old Skinflint never missed a bar- gain it his lift.—Lowell Citizen. “Some men are very careless,” re- marked Dumbky. “I went into a cigar store this moming and on the showcase lay change for a $5 bill, which some oustomer hadevidently forgotten.” “I say, Dumley?’ whispered Featherly, “have you got it yet?” —New York Sun. Ayoung man found a handbag at Tuscola, ‘It contained $35, and longed toa widow in Antwood, and when the young man returned it she re- warded him by marrying him the next day. We hat to print this item. It is such a discoutager to honesty in young men. He (who thiaks he ought to say some- thing)—“‘Haw, by the by, have you evah-heard Miss Fitz-Morris twa! that little thing yon just played?” She (hav- ing just finished her favorite nocturne) —"No.” _He—“Haw, you ought to, she plays it so beautifully.”—Harper’s Bazar. Stage-struck lady (anxiously) —“Isn’t the expression a little sad?” —_Litho- phic artist—“You vos going to daig is Migado on der road, ain’t it? Stage-struck. lady — “Yes.” con hic artist—'Vell, dot raid vill ape like you in apout don veeks."” —tTrd-Bits. _ ae They were standing on the deck of a Cunarder that rans to the Hub, ‘And what is that shining so?” she asked. “That is the doe of the State-house. I was born fight in its shadow.” “You don’t say? And this is really America, thent” “O, dear no, this is Boston.” —Muw Haver News. Adak easy meiden hac married a gentleman ned Young. “Allow me wWevusra you ou the renewal of yuur yout said the jester after the ceremony. _ “Sir,” was the frigid, and «ignified response, “I fail to com- prekend yout meaning.” ~Why,” said the jester, “dea’t you know your mar- tiage has made you Young again?” — Pilisburg Dispaich. ——— A Wilkesbarre lady has begun suit against a marriage susociations at Read- ing, Pa., to recover $1,000. In 1883 she a contract with the associa- tion by which she was to receive if she married within a year, $500 if the doubling up came in two years and $1,000 if the event did not take place for three The insured lady re- maiped single for three years and then married. she sent in her claim it was refused payment Leaseps is thus ome td piotceraphed by a writer in the Wash- gton Post: Count was im the best of form. His gray mustache was well waxed and drawn out at the ends asfine as a needie-point. The Count | hasa nose which runs nearly the whole of his face like*a rabbit's nose, and when ne smiles much, which is very often, the nose overshadows | everything else, and his little eyes out als from a focus of wrin! fan which brings them into play.” BENNETT, WHEELER & C0. Spring Wagons and Top Buggies, Hardware, Groceries, Wagon Wood work. Iron Steel, Nails, ac. Northeast corner —_OnN OUR WINTER GOODS, —SUCH as— BLANKETS, FLANNELS,CLOAKS,| |} Boots and Shoes, RUBBER GOODS OF ALL KINDS,| |) CAPS, GLOVES, &C. | Than the Same Quality of Goods Have Ever Been Sold in this Market, A word to the wise is sufficent. | RESPECTFULLY. J, M. McKIBBEN., | —DEALERS IN THE— Celebrated Mitchell Farm Wagon, Cortland Steel Geari Halliday Standard ~~ warm => ETH Gee Wik Be and Iron Suction or Force Pumps. square, Butler, Mo. Hampdensilver stem winding watch- es, from $11 to higher prices. American ladies stem winding gold® watches from $25, up- All silverware, clocks, jewelrA, &c, at cost prices. Sole agent forthe Rockford and Aurora watebes, in Gold, Sjiver and Filled Cases, very caeap- JEWELRY STORE, Is headquarters tor fne Jewel: Watches, Clocks, Solid Silver and Plated Ware, &c. pecta 1 kinds and for all ages; also fine Opera Glasses. You . eroegien omar ae ra to visit his establishment and examine his splendid display of beautitul goods and the low prices, KINDS OF ENGRAVING NEATLY EXECUTED ’E,

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